CHAPTER XVII
The mischief was done; no use to stand there by the smoking ruins ofwhat had been his one real hope for himself and his life. After a whileBarry roused himself. There seemed to be nothing to do at the moment,no more to be said. He and Billy walked up River Street to their owngate, but when they reached it, Barry, obeying an irresistible impulse,merely left his coat and suit-case there, and went on through the Hallgateway, and up to the house.
The sun was coming out bravely now, and already he felt its warmth inthe garden. Everywhere the fog was rising, was fading against the greenof the trees. He followed a delicious odor of wood smoke and the soundof voices, to the barnyard, and here found the lady of the house, withher inevitable accompaniment of interested children. Sidney wasmanaging an immense brush fire with a long pole; her gingham skirtpinned back trimly over a striped petticoat, her cheeks flushed, herhair riotous under a gipsy hat.
At Barry's first word she dropped her pole, her whole face grewradiant, and she came toward him holding out both her hands.
"Barry!" she said eagerly, her eyes trying to read his face, "how gladI am you've come! We didn't know how to reach you. You've heard, ofcourse--! You've seen--?"
"The poor old MAIL? Yes, I'm just from there," he said soberly. "Can wetalk?"
"As long as you like," she answered briskly. And after some directionsto the children, she led him to the little garden seat below the sideporch, and they sat down. "Barry, you look tired," she said then. "Doyou know, I don't know where you've been all these days, or what youwent for? Was it to San Francisco?"
"San Francisco, yes," he assented, "I didn't dream I'd be there solong." He rubbed his forehead with a weary hand. "I'll tell you allabout it presently," he said. "I had a letter from my wife's motherthat worried me, and I started off at half-cock, I got worrying--but ofcourse I should have written you--"
"Don't bother about that now, if it distresses you," she said quicklyand sympathetically. "Any time will do for that. I--I knew it wassomething serious," she went on, relief in her voice, "or you wouldn'thave simply disappeared that way! I--I said so. Barry, are you hungry?"
He tried to laugh at the maternal attitude that was never long absentin her, but the tears came into his eyes instead. After all the strainand sleeplessness and despondency, it was too poignantly sweet to findher so simply cheering and trustful, in her gipsy dress, with thebrightening sunlight and the sweet old garden about her. Barry couldhave dropped on his knees to bury his face in her skirts, and feel themotherly hands on his hair, but instead he admitted honestly to hungerand fatigue.
Sidney vanished at once, and presently came back followed by her blackcook, both carrying a breakfast that Barry was to enjoy at once underthe rose vines. Sidney poured his coffee, and sat contentedly nibblingtoast while he fell upon the cold chicken and blackberries.
"Now," said her heartening voice, "we'll talk! What is to be done firstabout the MAIL?"
"No insurance, you know," he began at once. "We never did carry any inthe old days and I suppose that's why I didn't. So that makes it a deadloss. Worse than that--for I wasn't clear yet, you know. The safe theycarried out; so the books are all right, I suppose, although they saywe had better not open it for a few days. Then I can settle everythingup as far as possible. And after that--well, I've been thinking thatperhaps Barker, of the San Francisco TELEGRAM might give me a start ofsome sort--" He rumpled his hair with a desperate gesture. "The thing'scome on me like such a thunderbolt that I really haven't thought itout!" he ended apologetically.
"The thing's come on you like such a thunderbolt," she echoedcheerfully, "that you aren't taking it like yourself at all! Thequestion, is if we work like Trojans from now on, can we get an issueof the MAIL out tomorrow?"
"Get an issue out tomorrow!" he repeated, staring at her.
"Certainly. I would have done what I could about it," said Sidneybriskly, "but not knowing where you were, or when you were coming back,my hands were absolutely tied. Now, Barry, LISTEN!" she broke off, notreassured by his expression, "and don't jump at the conclusion thatit's impossible. What would it mean?"
"To get an issue of the MAIL out tomorrow? Why, great Scott, Sid, youdon't seem to realize that there's not a stick left standing!"
"I do realize. I was there until the fire was out," she said calmly.And for a few minutes they talked of the fire. Then she said abruptly:"Would Ferguson let you use the old STAR PRESS for a few weeks, do youthink?"
"I don't see why he should," Barry said perversely.
"I don't see why he shouldn't. I'll tell you something you don't know.Night before last, Barry, while I was down in the office, old Fergusonhimself came in, and poked about, and asked various questions. Finallyhe asked me what I thought the chances were of your wanting to buy outthe Star. What do you think at THAT?"
"He's sick of it, is he?" Barry said, with kindling eyes. "Well, we'veseen that coming, haven't we? I will be darned!" He shook his headregretfully. "That would have been a big thing for the MAIL" he said,"but it's all up now!"
"Not necessarily," the lady undauntedly rejoined. "I've been thinking,Barry," she went on, "if you reordered the presses, they'd give youplenty of time to pay for them, wouldn't they? Might even takesomething off the price, under the circumstances?"
"I suppose they might." He made an impatient gesture. "But that's justone--"
"One item, I know. But it's the main item. Then you could rent theoffice and loft over the old station, couldn't you? And move the oldStar press in there this afternoon."
"This afternoon," said Barry calmly.
"Well, we don't gain anything by waiting. You can write a manly andaffecting editorial,"--her always irrepressible laughter broke out,"full of allusions to the phoenix, you know! And my regular Saturdaycolumn is all done, and Miss Porter can send in something, and there'sany amount of stuff about the Folsom lawsuit. And Young, Mason andCompany ought to take at least a page to advertise their premium dayto-morrow. I'll come down as soon as you've moved--"
Barry reached for his hat.
"The thing can't be done," he announced firmly, "but, by George, Sid,you would give a field mouse courage! And what a grandstand play, if weCOULD put it through! There's not a second to be lost, though. But lookhere," and with sudden gravity he took both her hands, "it'll take somemore money, you know."
"I have some more money," she answered serenely.
"Well, I'll GET some!" he declared emphatically. "It won't be so much,either, once we get started. And so old Ferguson wanted to sell, didhe?"
"He did. And we'll buy the STAR yet." They were on the path now."Telephone me when you can," she said, "and don't lose a minute now!Good luck!"
And Barry's great stride had taken him half-way down River Street, hishands in his pockets, his mind awhirl with plans, before it occurred tohim that he had not told her the news of Hetty, after all.
The Rich Mrs. Burgoyne Page 17
