“The dog won’t hurt you,” said Curlin in a low almost contemptuous tone. “Bruce, go back to the house and lie down!” he ordered the dog.
Bruce uttered a low menacing growl, that in a man would have sounded like swearing, and slowly made his way back up the hill.
The girl watched the dog fearsomely until he rounded the corner of the house and was out of sight. Then she turned to Curlin, and perceived that he was a personable young man.
“Who are you?” she said insolently. “What do you have such a beast as that around for?”
Curlin gave her a steady glance.
“My name is Grant,” said Curlin. “I’m sorry my dog frightened you, but at that I don’t see that he behaved any worse than you did. We don’t often have such insolent guests as you are, insulting one of our best friends.”
“Grant!” said the girl, assurance swiftly returning to her voice. “Any relation to Steve?”
Curlin gave her a swift keen look.
“I have a brother Stephen.”
“Well, where is he? Just tell him a friend of his is out here! That’s what I came for, to find Steve.”
Curlin surveyed her with a firm look on his pleasant lips and unfriendly withdrawal in his eyes.
“My brother is not at home!” he answered haughtily.
The girl frowned.
“When will he be home?” she asked.
“I can’t say,” answered Curlin. “He is away indefinitely on business.”
“Well then, give me his address and telephone number. I’ve got to talk to him right away. It’s important!”
“That’s quite impossible!” said Curlin firmly. “He wasn’t sure just where he was going first, and I don’t have an address at present nor a telephone number. But even if I had one I should not give it to you. Now, would you like to go up to the house and wash your face before you leave? It seems to be rather the worse for wear. McRae, would you take her up to the house? Mother is in bet with one of her sick headaches today or I’m sure she would have been down to offer assistance.”
“Oh, no!” cried the girl. “I can’t go up to that house where that awful dog is. I want to get away from here at once. Where is my other shoe?”
Curlin proffered the heelless shoe.
“I’m afraid it’s rather the worse for wear,” he said. “Ah! Here is the heel. If you will come into the house I can take it down to the village and have the heel put on.”
“No!” said the girl. “I will not go into that house! I’ll manage to get into the bus, somehow—” Her voice trailed off perplexedly.
“Come over to my house,” said McRae pleasantly. “You can wash over there, and perhaps we can find a pair of my shoes you can wear.”
The ungracious guest finally agreed to that and ended by taking off both shoes and going barefoot.
“On,” she said looking at Curlin as she turned to leave, “I want Steve’s address, and I want it might quick too!”
“Sorry,” said Curlin firmly, “that’s something I can’t give you.”
“Well, you’ll be good and sorry if you don’t, that’s all I’ve got to say. I can give information that will connect him up with a gangster’s crowd and a big holdup, quick as a wink! How would you like that?”
“You don’t say!” said Curlin looking at her steadily. “What a very good friend you must be to Stephen!”
“Well, I can do it, and I will if there are any more double crossings from Steve. I think you ought to know that I’m a very special friend of your brother’s. He’s engaged to marry me!”
“Indeed!” said Curlin. “How interesting! But he hasn’t mentioned it to his family yet, you see.”
“No, I asked him not to, until my divorce went through. But it’s all okay now, so I came out to tell him. Now, will you tell me where to find Steve?”
“No,” said Curlin, “I will not! Not now, nor at any future time when he lets me know where he has decided to stay. You are definitely out of the picture as far as I am concerned.”
“Well, you’ll be sorry!”
“Yes? I’m sorry now that you ever met my brother.”
“Yes, and you’ll be sorrier yet!” warned Mysie.
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised!” said Curlin. “From the little I have seen of you this afternoon I should suppose that you wouldn’t be a person who could make anybody very glad as a friend or in any other relation. Now, can you walk or do I need to carry you?”
“I’ll walk!” said the girl fiercely. “But I’ll see that you get yours pretty suddenly if you don’t give me that address. I know one other place where there’s somebody who might know it. If I don’t get it there you’ll begin to understand that you’ve been monkeying with a buzz saw.”
McRae walked silently down to the gate with the girl, and Curlin stood for a moment and watched them, his eyes full of trouble. It was terrible that McRae had had to go through this scene, unfair that she had to come into any sort of contact with a girl like this one. It was all Steve’s fault of course. How could he have had anything to do with a girl like this when McRae had been his friend for years? And how sweet McRae had been, offering her shoes. It was not mere politeness that had made McRae so kind, it was Christian grace. After those disgusting things the girl had said to her!
But was it possible that there was anything to that? Did McRae love Steve? It would be a wonderful thing for Steve of course if she did. That is, if he knew enough to appreciate it. But it would be a mistake for McRae. She would have a hard life if she ever married Steve. Fun-loving, spoiled, handsome Steve! His beloved brother, yes. But spoiled. Could God somehow take the spoil away and set Stephen right?
He watched the two girls cross the road together and go up to the Silverthorn house. He waited out of sight until he saw them return to the porch and hurry down the walk just in time to catch the bus returning to the city. He noticed that the alien girl was wearing shoes of some sort, and carrying a neat bundle. McRae had fixed her up.
Then the bus went on its way, and McRae went back into the house. Curlin drew a heavy sigh and turned back to his evening duties in the big old stone barn. Bruce stole near, with a wistful questioning motion of his tail, and drooped along beside him, until at last his cold wet nose touched Curlin’s fingers with affectionate pleading. Curlin’s hand came lovingly down about the dog’s big silky head, and petted him.
“Hard lines, old fellow!” he murmured tenderly. “You have to be careful about a lady, you know, even when she’s not a lady. I’m afraid you were a bit rough, even allowing for the circumstances. Next time perhaps you’d better just stand and bark, keep a safe distance back, you know!”
Bruce yearned toward his master with a low breathing sound that seemed to say he understood, and the two walked together in sober understanding up to the barn. Solemnly Bruce went about nosing the calf into place, standing guard over Curlin, sitting alertly, but subdued, near Curlin as he milked the cows. Sliding affectionately up to Curlin’s riding horse, and rubbing his nose against her fetlock. All the little gestures that were a loving part of the day’s work between his master and himself.
After the work was done at the barn Curlin went in and got ready a nice tray for his mother. Beautifully browned toast and a little old silver pot of scalding hot tea, a tiny pat of butter. He knew just how she liked it. He had done it before. Dear mother! She had had those headaches so many times, especially since Stephen had been growing up and getting out away from home.
Not that mother knew anything definite about Mysie. He had tried to keep that from both mother and father. But somehow mother must have sensed there was something wrong. Mother knew life. She had imagination enough to work out the possibilities whenever Steve stayed out very late. So often she would be in her room quite late in the morning after father had gone to the city, and would come out with her eyes all tired and red around the rims. She had been praying for Steve, he was sure, because one morning he had been hunting her and had softly turned the knob of he
r door to make sure she wasn’t there, and opening the door just the faintest crack, had seen her down upon her knees beside the bed, with her dear face buried in the old brown bedquilt. Curlin had watched and agonized with her after that, and had done everything he could to save Steve. But he wasn’t at all sure about Steve yet. Neither was mother. The only difference between them was that mother knew she could absolutely trust God to take care of Steve, even though she shouldn’t live to see Steve safe, while he, Curlin, wasn’t so sure but a lot of the responsibility belonged to himself.
And in a way it did of course. What did God give boys brothers for, if not to help watch over them? Look at what God said to Cain, “Where is Abel, thy brother?”
Curlin stirred up the fire and put some potatoes in to roast. His father would be coming home on the next bus. There was just time for the potatoes to get done. There were meat balls for supper, too. Mother had prepared them before she went to lie down with her headache. There was a can of tomatoes on the kitchen table, and a nice apple and nut salad in the refrigerator. A rice pudding also, ice cold in the refrigerator, rich and creamy with fat raisins in it. Mother never humored even a sick headache until she had her family’s needs all provided for. She knew that Curlin could do all she had left to be done.
And while Curlin worked away, getting out the pan for the meat balls, the butter, cutting the bread, starting the coffee in the percolator, he kept on with that thought: “Where is Steve, thy brother?” If was as if God was asking that question of him.
It wasn’t the first time of course that the idea had come to him. The night McRae had called up for them to come to her party it had taken the greatest hold on him, and he had been ashamed that his own hasty temper had prevented him from insisting that Steve should not go away to a night club instead of coming home with him. Even then he wouldn’t perhaps have thought so much about it if that girl hadn’t come into the picture, telephoning to Silverthorn’s. But from that night on, when he had talked with McRae about it he had felt a definite responsibility laid upon his soul to do something for Steve. Perhaps because McRae had seemed so troubled about him, and the suggestion had come to his mind that perhaps McRae was in love with Steve.
It had wrenched his heart terribly, and had revealed to himself that his own heart was involved there also. But he had definitely put it aside, realizing once more that if Steve had set his heart upon McRae, Steve would probably get her. He always got what he went after from everybody.
So, if for no other reason, he must look after Steve for McRae’s sake. He could not see McRae suffer, when a little trouble on his own part might save her peace of mind, and help Steve to be a man worthy of a girl like that.
As the days had gone by Curlin had grown more and more into the feeling that Steve must be saved for his own sake, as well as his mother’s and father’s, and the girl who might be loving him. Even if it meant a painful sacrifice of his own heart’s wishes, there must be no risk that McRae should suffer through a lack of diligence on his part. And so, tenderly, he had come to care for his brother as a sacred trust. And little by little Steve had noticed it and began to realize a stronger bond between himself and Curlin than he had ever felt while they were growing up.
And now, today, with the coming of this extraordinary girl into the picture, Curlin felt that Steve must be protected at all costs.
He could not get the Mysie girl out of his thoughts. How terrible for mother if Steve was really involved in any serious way with a girl like that.
Of course all that talk about gangsters had been only so much baloney. Steve had never been away from home long enough to get involved in anything such as she had hinted. He had kept pretty thorough check on his brother’s movements of late, and had planned a number of lures to keep him in safe surroundings. But a girl like the one who had visited them this afternoon was equal to anything. She probably was after money. She could threaten Steve with blackmail. Well, that would be something to think about, to pray about. But the whole thing had left his heart anxious and troubled. What would be the immediate outcome of all that they had tried to do for Steve? Would it do any good, or would Steve just find some new way of going astray in the new venture which he had entered upon that morning?
Curlin heard the bus stop and pass on again, heard his father’s steps coming up the flagging, rather slow, elderly steps. Dad wasn’t quite so spry as he used to be. A quick anxiety stabbed him with possibilities. Life seemed so awfully full of things one didn’t dare look in the face!
Curlin turned the meat balls over again to be sure the other side was just the right brown, lifted the percolator from the grill, gave the coffee a stir with the silver spoon mother had left in readiness, and set it down on the kitchen table.
“Hello, dad! Dinner’s all ready!” he called cheerfully. “Mother had a bit of a headache this afternoon and I made her lie down. But she feels better now. I took her a tray. Go up and see her a minute, but hustle for these meat balls are just ready to eat!”
A quick anxiety passed over the older face.
“Oh, I was afraid she wasn’t feeling so well,” said the father. “She didn’t sleep much last night of course, Steve starting so early. Well, I hope it’s going to turn out to be the best for Steve.”
He hung up his coat and hat and hurried up the stairs.
“Hurry up, dad. I don’t want my dinner spoiled. My honor as a cook is at stake.”
“Oh, steak for dinner?” grinned the father. “I’ll be right down.”
“Only hamburg steak, dad,” laughed Curlin, and turned out the stewed tomatoes into the china dish set ready. Then with a silver fork, and a dry dish towel he began taking out the crusty roasted potatoes, giving each one a scientific squeeze to let out the steam and keep them dry and fluffy as his mother had taught him.
He brought the salad, and he dished out two helpings of rice pudding. Then he rang the bell good and loud at the foot of the stairs, and his father came laughing down the stairs.
“Coming!” he shouted. “You dinner smells good. I told mother she was missing out on it, and she declared she was coming down as soon as she finished her toast, but I forbade it. Told her I’d come up there and read to her all the evening if she would be good and stay in bed, so she promised. I think she feels better tonight, says the pain in her head is all gone, but it’s just as well for her to be careful. How have things gone today? All right?”
“Okay!” said Curlin, thinking of the afternoon visitor and thankful that there was such an indiscriminate word as “okay” to use on occasion.
There was silence for a full minute while the two began to eat, and then the father said:
“Well, Steve got off all right this morning. The pilot said the air conditions couldn’t be better. I suppose we’ll hear from him tomorrow sometime!”
“Yes, probably, although he told me he would give us a call tonight if there was any opportunity. But I told him he’d better hold off till morning or mother wouldn’t sleep all night waiting to hear from him.”
“Well, I hope we did the right thing,” sighed the older man, “letting him go off that way, so far!”
“I think you did, dad! You know Steve always did do better when he was absolutely on his own.”
“Yes, I suppose it’ll do the lad good to take a few burdens on himself,” sighed the father.
Curlin made short work of washing the few dishes and putting things to rights, all in readiness for breakfast the next morning, and then he cleaned himself up quickly, and went in and kissed his mother.
“I’m just running over to Silverthorns a few minutes,” he explained as he saw his mother’s questioning eyes on his freshly combed hair. “I won’t be long. Everything’s all ready for breakfast, mother, and you don’t need to get up early. Take it easy a few days and get back your pep.” He smiled, as he departed.
The mother’s eyes smiled a benediction upon him as he left. Mother was very fond of the Silverthorns.
But Curlin wasn’t so sure h
e would stay even a few minutes at Silverthorns. It depended on who was there. Paul often came out with Link to spend the evening, or McRae might have some girls overnight. If so there was his new farm magazine that he wanted to read. It would be all right. To tell the truth he didn’t just know why he was going, only that he somehow wanted to speak to McRae again, perhaps tell her how sorry and ashamed he was that she had had to have a part in that disgraceful scene of the afternoon. Perhaps he was only going over there like a little boy who wanted to be comforted a bit. And McRae was always good at comforting.
Chapter 14
But there were not lights in the great front room of the Silverthorn house where company was usually entertained, just the two reading lamps in the library and the comfortable outlines of Father and Mother Silverthorn sitting around the library table, both of them reading. Then as he drew nearer the house he could see a dim figure in a white dress sitting alone over on the wide comfortable hammock know as a “glider.” That was McRae and she was by herself! His heart gave a happy bound. At least he might have few words with her alone, before anybody else came.
So as he drew nearer the steps he was whistling softly, though there wasn’t any definite tune to it at all. He hadn’t been coming over here lately as often as in past years and he almost felt shy about it.
“Hello!” he called, as he came up the steps, “is that you, McRae? Link anywhere about?”
It was the old question he had used so much during the years that it hardly seemed strange on his lips, though it was really Link’s sister he wanted to see. But he wanted to make McRae feel utterly at her ease, and if McRae had her heart full of Steve, and was worrying about him, he didn’t want to obtrude himself into the picture.
“Oh! Curlin!” said the girl springing to her feet, “I’m so glad you came over. I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Come over here and sit down awhile with me. No, Link isn’t home yet. He telephoned at six o’clock that he had a man to see at eight-thirty and would come home as soon as he got free from him. I guess it won’t be long now.”
By the Way of the Silverthorns Page 14
