“All right, I’ll get the car.” And Paige hurried home. He was back just as June came out the door and hurried down the walk.
As if they were old friends going on an errand of mutual interest they settled into conversation.
“I left a note for Mother,” she said, as he helped her into the car, “so they won’t worry.”
“That’s good!” said Paige. “And what about a doctor?”
“Oh, yes. They said he was up at a clinic in the hospital, and I got him and told him. He said he’d get some other doctor to take over and he would be out there almost as soon as he could get out of his uniform.”
“So, he’s that kind of a doctor is he? Ready to go to a poor family, even though they haven’t paid their bill. He must be a pretty good man to tie up to.”
“He is,” said June. “I haven’t been here so long myself, but from what I’ve seen of him, he seems to be grand. Dad says he’s always ready to go, day or night, if anyone is in distress.”
“That sounds wonderful. And is he also skillful?”
“He certainly is. They tell me he has been practicing around here since before the war, and he worked wonders in the hospital overseas. But he certainly was wonderful with little Nannie. We suspected she was undernourished, and that proved to be the case. The doctor gave strict orders what she should eat, but I just don’t believe they have been kept. You see, families are in reduced circumstances. I think they have been trying to buy their house, and they have let everything else go to that end. I tried to tell Nannie’s mother how important it was that she should have the right food, and sometimes I’ve taken things over for her. They are always very grateful of course, but really quite embarrassed to take it. That is why they have not sent for the doctor again. The father is very proud and terribly discouraged.”
“Well, that’s a sad tale, and their attitude makes it harder to help them in any way.”
“Yes, that’s true. Daddy has tried his best to get near to the father, especially now since he has been so ill himself, but he can’t seem to get anywhere. There! There is the house, down that little road. See the light at the end of the road?”
“Yes,” said Madison. “It seems a neat little house. Could stand some painting, but on the whole looks very well.”
“Yes,” said the girl wistfully, “but with mortgages and sickness, I don’t suppose there is much money left for paint.”
“No, of course not. Well, now, what’s the order of the day? I don’t imagine my presence will add to the picture. What shall I do? Just stay here till you come out? And will you let me know if I can be of any assistance?”
“Yes, I suppose that will be best. The doctor’s car has not come yet. Perhaps you’ll stay here and explain to him just what happened, and tell him to come right in. I’ll take this soup and milk in. It may be needed at once. I have an idea that poor kid hasn’t had a thing to eat all day.”
“Why, here, I’ll take those things in. Do you want this basket, too?”
“Yes. I brought some oranges and bread and a Thermos of coffee.”
“That sounds good. Which door do we use?”
“This back door. The kitchen table is at the right. Put the things there. And listen, I think I hear the doctor’s car.
“That’s right. I’ll go right back and meet him.”
The girl vanished inside the house, and Paige returned just in time to meet the doctor.
The doctor seemed to understand thoroughly the situation without explanation.
“I should have been sent for before, of course,” he said, “but the father has that inhibition about bills. Poor soul! He is desperately sick himself. See if you can find him, and I’ll be around to look him over when I get through with the child.”
The doctor vanished into the house, going with the sure tread of one who thoroughly knows the situation, and Paige began a cautious survey of the premises. It was very still out there in the soft growing darkness, and there were no lights in the house to guide him, no sounds of moving feet or voices except those quiet ones in the room where the girl had gone.
Cautiously, he approached window after window and glanced into the dark rooms, but only darkness met his searching gaze.
At last, as he went around the shed behind the kitchen, he thought he heard a groan, but in trying to trace it to its source, he came on the small figure of a young boy, flat on his face in the grass, doing his best to stifle the sobs that were shaking his frail shoulders.
Paige stepped quietly to his side and softly kneeling, laid a gentle hand on the bowed head.
“What’s the matter, kid? Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked in the tone of one young fellow to another.
The sobs stopped instantly. The shoulders were suddenly quiet. It was as if the boy had been frozen into suspended animation for an instant. But Paige remained kneeling there, his hand in kindliness on the stormy young head. Suddenly the boy raised his head, turned, and sat up.
“Who are you?” he growled, glaring through the half-darkness into the young man’s face. Then without waiting for an answer, he demanded, “Is my sister dead? And are you the undertaker?”
“Oh, no!” said Paige half amusedly. “I’m just a fellow that brought your sister’s Sunday school teacher up to see her. They said your sister wanted her to come. You see, she didn’t have a car she could use, so I brought her in mine.”
The boy relaxed limply.
“Oh!” he said wearily. “But she’s dying, isn’t she? I heard my mother tell my father. And we can’t have the doctor because our bill isn’t paid.”
“Don’t worry about that, kid. The doctor has just come. It’s going to be all right.”
The boy looked at him with unbelieving eyes.
“Where is your father?” asked Paige. “Is he over there in your sister’s room?”
The boy shook his head.
“No! He wouldn’t go over there. He said he couldn’t stand it there. He’s sick himself. He says he’s been an awful failure, and he’s likely going to die himself before my sister does, and anyhow he’s gonta lose the house and we won’t have any place to go but the poorhouse after he’s gone!” The boy’s shoulders began to shake again, in great, deep sobs.
“Now look here, kid, that’s no way to react in a situation like this. Straighten up, and let’s see what we can do about it.”
The boy sat up half angrily, and his voice shook hoarsely.
“But there isn’t anything we can do! My father said so. Tomorrow is the last day to make his next payment on the house, and we haven’t got the money, and the man at the bank said if he didn’t bring it before noon tomorrow, we’d lose the house. All my father has worked so hard to pay! And it’s all paid now but two last payments, too, and he’s goin’ to lose it all, and he just can’t bear it! It’s too much!”
“Well, now mop up and let’s see about this,” said Paige comfortingly. “The end of the world hasn’t come yet, and there are always things that can be done. You take my handkerchief and dry those tears. We’ve got important things to do. If that money’s got to be paid by tomorrow noon, we’ve got to get a hustle on and find the money. How much is it, do you know?”
“Uh-huh! It’s seventy-five dollars interest, and a hundred on the principal. And Dad’s been everywhere all day tryin’ ta borra some. He’s only got forty-five himself, an’ some o’ that he had ta use ta go places to try an’ borra, but nobody had enny ta spare, an’ dad came home so sick he couldn’t stand up. He went off without even a bite ta eat.”
“Well, now that’s too bad,” said Paige, “but look here, we’ve got more important things to do right now than bother about that money. I know places where we can get money. But what we need first is to see that your father is looked after. Has he had anything to eat yet since he came back?”
“Nope,” said the boy, “he said he never could eat again. Hadn’t any right to eat ’cause he was a failure.”
“There now, kid, don’t begin that b
awling again. Where is your father? We’ll see what we can do about it.”
The boy at first wouldn’t answer. Then he said: “Dad won’t like it ef I tell ya.”
“That’s all right, kid. I’ll make it right with your father. Where is he? He doesn’t need to know you told me. Show me where he is.”
“He’s over on the old couch in the back shed,” said the boy, with a shudder.
“Okay, kid! Show me where that is. We mustn’t waste any time. Your father needs something to eat, and we brought some soup and hot coffee. That’ll brace him up, and then we can talk about the other troubles. Hurry! We haven’t any time to lose.”
At last the boy was induced to lead the way to the forlorn little bare shed behind the kitchen where the man was stretched despairingly on a broken-down sofa, partially covered with a worn Brussels carpet.
Paige turned on his flashlight, and the motionless figure stirred and looked up.
“Hello, brother. There you are! I’m hunting you to see if you wouldn’t like a good hot cup of coffee. Then you’ll be in better shape to help us get things straightened out.”
“Is my—little—Nannie gone?” asked the man’s weak, anxious voice.
“Why no, man. What gave you that idea? The doctor’s just gone in to see her. He’ll bring her round, and you’ve got to brace up and get ready to help us.”
“There’s—nothing—I can—do!”
“Oh yes, there is,” said Paige. “Wait till you’ve had a cup of that nice coffee. Does this door open into the kitchen? I thought so. Kid, suppose you get me a cup and saucer, and we’ll have your father fixed up in no time.”
Paige threw open the old wooden door to a bare kitchen where a single candle burned on a mantel shelf. The baskets he had brought in were still on the table where he had put them. He could hear the doctor’s cheerful voice across the next room, in the bedroom beyond, then a feeble child’s voice and a mother’s sobs. Just then June Culbertson came quickly out and went efficiently to work preparing a cup of broth from the other Thermos bottle. This was some girl, taking hold of a situation like this and carrying on efficiently!
He went back to the father with the hot coffee and an old cushion he had picked up from a chair.
“Now, brother,” he said cheerfully, “suppose you let me raise your head a little higher so you can drink this.”
In spite of the man’s protests, Paige was able to lift him into a comfortable position and coax him to swallow a few spoonfuls of the hot liquid, after which he seemed to revive a little, and finally sat up and drank the rest of the coffee.
“Oh, that’s good,” he said. “That’s heartening. But I ought not to have taken it. My wife needs it more than I do. She’s been up day and night nursing our little girl.”
“There’s enough for your wife to have some, too,” assured Paige cheerfully.
“But my little girl’s going to die!”
“Oh, no, she isn’t, not just now,” said the heartening voice of the doctor who had just come out of the sickroom. “All she needed was a little cheering up and some of that good hot soup Miss June brought along. Do you know what’s the matter with this household? You’ve all been sitting around weeping and wailing. No wonder little Nannie thought she was going to die. No wonder your wife is almost dead on her feet and everything is all wrong. Do you know where we found your son? Out in the grass, crying because he thought you were going to die, too. Now, brother, let’s see what’s wrong with you.” And the doctor stepped determinedly over to the father and laid a professional hand on his wrist and then on his forehead.
“I thought so,” he said, getting out his thermometer. “You’re way below normal. What are you trying to do, arrange for a family funeral on the town? That’s no way to do.”
“But I can’t pay you, Doctor. I’ve been out all day hunting a job and trying to borrow money, and it’s no go! I can’t get a thing!”
“Yes? Well, if my bill is all you’re worrying about, forget it. Things aren’t always going on this way for you. You’ll get a job. We’ll all help you.”
“But that isn’t all, Doctor. I’m going to lose this house, and there won’t be any place for us to even die in.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks. Here! Take this pill, and I’ll give you another before I go. You talk your troubles over with young Madison, here. He’s a bright young man interested in finance, and ten to one he’ll find some solution for your difficulties. Now, I’m going back to see how Nannie is. And Madison, I leave this man with you to find some solution for his trouble. He can’t go on carrying all this burden and then get up and do a man’s work besides. It isn’t possible. There’s some way out of this, and we’ve got to find it, or I’m not a doctor.”
“Of course!” said Paige cheerily. “Now come, we’ll get you a bite more soup, and some bread and butter, and then you can give me the details.”
The doctor’s eyes twinkled as he looked back on the two and noted the expression on the discouraged father’s face.
Paige lost no time in producing the soup, and saw that every drop of it was swallowed before he said a word about any troubles. Then he put the dish over on the table and came back, drawing up a chair to the old couch.
“Now,” he said, getting out a pencil and paper, “just what is it that’s worrying you most? This house? What makes you think you’re going to lose it?”
“Because they told me that if I missed another payment, that was the end. I’d got to pay up interest and all, or they’d have to close me out. And tomorrow’s the last day. Twelve o’clock they close, tomorrow.”
“Have you got any papers to show for all this?”
“Yes. Over in the drawer of that old desk in the corner of the dining room.”
“Mind if I see them?” asked Paige.
“Oh, sure, but it’s no use to try anything with those folks. They haven’t any hearts. They don’t care if we all die. And I’m dead sure there isn’t anybody would lend a red cent to a poor old failure like me.” The man drew a heavy, discouraged sigh and bowed his head in his hands.
Paige went to the desk and brought back a bundle of papers. To his surprise he saw that they were drawn in the name of Harrison Chalmers and Company, and his heart sank with indignant fury. So this was the kind of thing that his delightful bosses were carrying on under the guise of benevolence and righteousness! Now, what was he to do?
“Well, now look here,” he said to the discouraged man, “you mustn’t give up this way. I know where I can get this money for you.”
“Oh, yes, you think you do, but just wait till they find out who wants to borrow it. Wait till they see my old rusty coat and the down-and-out-ness in my face. And wait till you find out the awful rate of interest they’ll want to charge for it. Interest I could never pay, even if I did get well and get a job.”
“No,” said Paige firmly, with a strange feeling that he was somehow being directed from above, and must say these things. “No, there won’t be anything like that, because I’ll get the money for you myself. It’ll be loaned to me, and I won’t charge you a cent of interest. Not till you get on your feet and have plenty to spare. Then, if you want to pay me back, you can do it. But just at present you won’t have anything to pay, and you won’t have to sign any contracts. Your business is to get well, see? Now, let me look over these papers. I am sure I can arrange this for you. You’d better brace up and see if you can get the strength to take your payment in. Do you think you’re up to that? Wait, we’ll ask the doctor whether you can. Of course, it could be mailed in if it would reach them in time.”
“Oh, yes, I can take it,” protested the sick man. “I’d rather. They’ll think I’ve failed again if I don’t come myself. But I can’t let you do this for me.”
“Oh yes, you can. We’re brothers, you know. And if you don’t like to let me do it for yourself, then I’ll do it for your family’s sake. Now if you’ll show me about these different papers, I’ll try and get things in shape for you. I’ll have t
o give you the money in the morning, as of course I don’t have that much with me, but if you can be ready to go back with me, I can make the trip that much easier for you. I’ll have to get back to the office where I work by nine o’clock. Will that be too early a start for you? And then about your getting back. I could pick you up at the noon hour and bring you home. But we’ll have to see what the doctor says about your going at all, first.”
The doctor had been standing just outside the door of the sickroom, and now he came over to them, smiling.
“Sure! Go and get your troubles off your mind! That’ll be better for you than all the medicine in my chest. And if you’ve got any more of those financial troubles, let’s get them out in the open and get rid of them. Are there any more debts bothering you, brother?”
“There’s your bill,” sighed the man. “I guess that comes next.”
“Well, we’ll just forget that for the present. Let’s get the other things out of the way first. How about the grocer’s bills? Are they all paid?”
The man shivered as if a cold blast had struck him, and he groaned.
“Yes, I thought so!” said the doctor. “Nothing like a lot of unpaid bills to put a person down sick in bed and ready for the undertaker. Let’s get them off your chest.”
“Are these all your bills, Mr. Shambley?” asked Paige, holding up a bunch of papers he had brought from the drawer in the dining room where he got the mortgage papers.
The sick man looked up with a start and then sank back.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Those are all of them. But if I could get a job I’d soon have those out of the way.”
“Well, it’ll be time enough to talk about that when you get well and have a good job so you can take care of your family. Let’s get these out of the way now. Madison, you add those up, and I’d like to chip in and help with them. I want to see this man get well. Here’s a milk bill. Twenty dollars, and it’s dated two months ago! Is that why Nannie hasn’t been drinking milk anymore? Well, we’ll see about that. I want her to have plenty of milk, and you, too. The whole family needs milk. I’ll just take this bill along and settle it up and see that they send some milk over right away tonight. And you get the other bills together.”