CHAPTER XVI
WHAT HALE HAD TO TELL
The door of the bookstore opened with a loose old-fashioned latch,and one fell down two steps without warning into a long, narrow roomlined with books. Betty went first, and Bobby, stumbling, would havefallen if she had not caught her.
"Gracious! I'm a little bit scared, aren't you?" Bobby whispered."It seems like such a spooky place."
It was certainly very quiet in the shop, and for a few moments Bettythought they must be alone. Then some one stirred, and, looking downthe room, they saw an old man bent over a book open on a table near adusty window. He wore big horn spectacles and was evidently extremelynearsighted, for he kept his face so near the book that his nosealmost touched the pages.
"That must be Mr. Hale," said Betty. "I wonder if it's all right tointerrupt him?"
"I should say the only way to make him understand you're here, wouldbe to go up and take that book away," rejoined Bobby.
"He can't be very anxious to sell anything, or he'd pay moreattention to his store," giggled Betty.
"I'll wait here," said Bobby hastily, as Betty moved toward the rearof the store. "I'd probably say the wrong thing anyway. Let me see,I'll be reading this fat brown book. They all look alike to me, butthis may be thrilling in spots."
Betty approached the motionless old man, whose lean brown forefingertraced the curious black characters in the book before him so slowlythat it did not seem to budge at all.
"I beg your pardon?" she said tentatively.
No response.
"I want to ask you----" Betty began again, a little breathlessly."I want to ask you about a boy named Bob Henderson."
"Name's Hale," said the old man, without looking up and speaking ina cracked, hoarse voice. "Lockwood Hale, dealer in new and secondhandbooks. Just look around on the tables and you'll likely come acrosswhat you want. I'll wrap it for you when you find it. Just now I'mbusy."
Betty looked desperately at Bobby, who was listening over the top ofher book, and stifled a desire to laugh.
"I don't want a book," she insisted gently. "I want to ask you aquestion. About Bob Henderson. You know you were interested in therecords of the Oliver County almshouse, and you thought you mightknow something of his people."
The old man pushed his spectacles up on his forehead fretfully andregarded the girl impatiently from a pair of near-sighted blue eyes.
"The books weren't worth anything," he told her seriously. "I spentnear a day going over 'em, and there wasn't a volume worth bringingback with me. Folks get the idea in their heads that a book's worthmoney just because it is old. 'Tain't so--I could fill my tables andshelves with old trash and still not have any stock. Jim Turner don'tknow a valuable book from a turnip."
Mr. Hale gave every indication of returning to the absorbing volumebefore him, and Betty plunged in hastily with another question.
"You know a boy named Bob Henderson, don't you?" she urged.
"Yes, he was in here some time last week," answered Hale calmly."Was it Wednesday, or Tuesday--that load of old almanacs wasdelivered that same afternoon."
"Well, I'm a friend of his." Betty almost stuttered in her eagernessto explain before the old man should be lost again in his book. "Heworked on the farm where I spent the summer, and he told me about youand how anxious he was to see you and find out about his people. I'vebeen anxious, too, to learn if he reached Washington and whether heis here now. Do you know?"
Now that the shopkeeper's mind was fairly detached from his printedpage he seemed to be more interested in his caller, and though he didnot offer to get Betty a chair, he looked about him vaguely as thoughhe might be seeking a place for her to sit.
"I don't mind standing. I mustn't stay long," she said hurriedly,afraid to let him fix his attention on outside objects. "Didn't BobHenderson say where he was going? Did he mention anything aboutleaving Washington?"
"Well, now let me see," considered the old man. "Bob Henderson? Oh,yes, I recollect now how he looked--a manly lad with a frank face.Yes, yes, his mother was Faith Henderson, born a Saunders. That'swhat caught my eye on the almshouse record book. Years ago I tracedthe Saunders line for a fine young lady who was marrying here inWashington. She wanted a coat of arms, and she was entitled to one,too. But there was a break in the line, one branch ending suddenlywith the birth of Faith Saunders, daughter of Robert and Grace. Inever forget a name, so when I read the almshouse record and saw thename of this lad's mother there I knew I had my chart complete. Yes,the boy was interested in what I could tell him."
Betty, too, was interested and glad to know that Bob had succeededin finding the old bookseller and learning from him what he had totell. But if Bob was still in Washington, she wanted to see him. Hecould doubtless tell her what to do in case she did not hear from heruncle within a few days--and Betty was growing exceedingly anxious asno answer came in reply to her telegram. And above all, she wanted tosee an old friend. The Littells were kindness itself to her, but shecraved a familiar face, some one to whom she could say, "Do youremember?"
"Didn't Bob say where he was going?" she urged again.
"Going?" Mr. Hale repeated the question placidly. "Oh, I believe hewent to Oklahoma."
Oklahoma! Betty had a sudden wild conviction that her thoughts hadbeen so centered on that one locality that she was beginning to loseher mind and imagine that every one repeated the word to her.
"Did you--did you say Oklahoma?" she ventured. "Why, how funny! Ihave an uncle out there in the oil fields. At least we think he is inthe oil fields," she added, a sudden look of worry flashing into hereyes. "It seems so funny that Bob should go away off there."
The old man peered up at her shrewdly.
"Aye, aye, funny it may be," he croaked. "But suppose I should tellyou I advised the lad to go there? Would that seem funny, eh?"
Betty stared in complete bewilderment.
"Oh, it isn't always in the story books, sometimes it happens toreal boys," he nodded exultantly. "Suppose I told you, in strictestconfidence, young lady, for I think you're a true friend to him, thathe has relatives out there? His mother's two sisters, both of 'emliving on the old homestead? Neither of 'em married and without nearkith or kin so far as they know? Suppose I tell you that the oldfarm, as I locate it, is in the oil section? Suppose the lad isentitled to his mother's interest in the place? Eh? Suppose I tellyou that?"
He made a question of each point, and emitted a dry cackle afterevery assertion.
"I told the lad to go out there, and if he had any trouble provingwho he was to come back here to me," said Hale importantly. "I canhelp him straighten out the tangles. I've untied many a knot forfamilies more tangled up than this. So he may be back, he may beback. Drop in any day, and I'll tell you whatever I know."
Betty thanked him warmly and he followed the girls to the door,repeating that he would be glad to tell them everything he knew.
They were going to one of the large shops to do a few errands forMrs. Littell, and since their visit to the bookstore had taken solong they agreed to separate and each do one or two commissions andthen meet at the door within half an hour.
Betty's mind was busy with the astonishing revelations Lockwood Halehad made, and as she deftly matched wool for a sweater, she turnedthe information over in her mind.
"I don't believe Bob has gone so far West at all," she said toherself firmly. "He wouldn't have money enough, I'm sure. I supposehe has written to me, but my mail will go to the farm, of course, andMr. Peabody would be the last person to forward it. I must write thepostmaster to hold and redirect my mail--when I know where I am to be."
Although she had promised herself not to worry, Betty was becomingvery anxious to hear from her uncle. She had written to the Bendersin Laurel Grove and to Norma Guerin at Glenside, explaining hersituation and asking them to let her know as soon as the quarantinein Pineville should be lifted. She knew that she could visit friendsthere indefinitely. But that did not much lighten the burden. Anxietyfor her uncle and
growing fear that she might never again hear fromhim, it had already been so long a time since his last letter, attimes oppressed her.
Their chopping finished, she and Bobby were reunited and were gladto enter the car and drive quietly home to luncheon. It was stillraining, and they found the other girls impatient for their return.
"We know all about beaten biscuit," boasted Esther. "And I stirredup a gold cake every bit myself."
"Practising all done," reported Louise. "And I'm just aching for agood lively game. No wedding stuff, Libbie, I warn you. I can see aromantic gleam in your eye."
Libbie said nothing then, but after lunch when they were debatingwhat to do, she had a suggestion.
"Let's play hide-and-go-seek," she said enthusiastically.
"Well, I didn't know you had that much sense," approved Bobby, whowas blunt almost to a fault but undoubtedly fond of her youngercousin. "Come on, girls, we'll have one more good game before thefamily begin to hint I'm too old for such hoydenish tricks. We'll goup to the attic and make as much noise as we can."