The days were lonely for her; their simple housekeeping was soon done, and she could not play with the children all the time. So in desperation, one day, she took the cover off the box of articles saved from their old home, and hunted through until she found Jack’s first year high school books.
“If I can’t go to school,” she decided, “I can at least study a little by myself. I won’t bother Jack now, but later he will help me over the things I can’t understand.”
After that, the days did not drag so slowly.
The doctor kept an eye on Jack, and at unexpected times dropped into the yards to see him. In spite of the difference in their ages, the two became good friends; and both were genuinely sorry when the end of their companionship arrived.
“The doctor wants me to be on the lookout for a certain kind of ox on the way back to Halifax,” said Jack, the night before they broke camp.
“Halifax?” said Priscilla. “I thought we were going to Bridgeriver.”
“Bridgewater,” corrected Desiré, laughing.
“Well, a river is water,” persisted Priscilla, who was always reluctant to admit that she had made a mistake; and disliked very much to be laughed at.
“Sometimes it is red mud,” suggested Jack mischievously. “Eh, Prissy?” drawing a feathery grass blade across the back of her neck as she sat in front of him sorting shells and stones.
The children had gathered a bushel or more of beach treasures that they “simply must take with them,” but Jack had decreed that only one small box could be incorporated in their luggage.
“I thought it best to get back to Wolfville as soon as possible,” explained her brother seriously when she did not respond to his good-natured teasing. “It’s not so very warm now nights.”
“What about the ox?” asked Desiré.
“A friend of the doctor’s, in fact the man who came out here after Dolly, has lost one of his—”
“Lost!” exclaimed Priscilla disdainfully. “How on earth could one lose an ox?”
“The way we nearly lost Dolly,” replied Jack briefly, before continuing his explanation to Desiré. “And naturally he wants to buy a perfect match for the remaining one. He has been around the nearby country, but for some reason—I believe his wife is ill, or something like that—he can’t go far to hunt one up. So the doctor is helping him, and he thought I might just happen to see one on the way to Halifax.”
“How would you know if you did?” demanded Priscilla, with some scorn, still annoyed at having to abandon so many of her marine souvenirs.
“Dr. Myers took me to examine the surviving animal, and I looked him over closely and wrote down a description besides.”
“Read it to us, Jack,” suggested Desiré; “and then we can all be on the watch.”
So Jack read his notes, and when they went to bed they were all hopeful of finding the required animal on their trip back to Halifax.
A couple of days later they were driving along the edge of St. Margaret’s Bay, when Desiré clutched Jack’s arm.
“Look!” she cried.
“Where, and at what?”
“Away over there, in the far corner of that field. Aren’t those oxen? And so many of them.”
Jack stopped the horses and stood up, shading his eyes with his hand.
“Yes, I think they are.”
“Hadn’t you better go and look at them—that is, if they are for sale?”
“Suppose I had, but I wonder how one gets there.”
“There must be a road.”
“I’ll go and see,” offered Priscilla.
“Me too,” chirped René.
“No,” said Jack, “we’ll drive on a bit first.”
A little farther on, a narrow road led far back in the direction of the field in which the oxen were located, and from that side, farm buildings could be seen.
“I don’t believe I’ll try to take the wagon in there,” decided Jack, surveying the road doubtfully.
“You might make a sale,” suggested Priscilla, always with an eye for business.
“And break an axle in one of those holes. No, I’ll walk.”
The children clamored to go too, but Jack refused all company; so they watched him pick his way carefully along until he reached the end of the road which evidently terminated in a barnyard. It was tiresome waiting; so Desiré let the children get out to gather some cat tails which were growing along the edge of a tiny roadside stream.
They were so busy that Jack was right upon them before they were aware of his approach.
“Guess I’ve found what we’re looking for,” he announced jubilantly when he came within earshot.
“Really, Jack!” cried Desiré, almost falling off the seat of the wagon in her excitement, while the children threw themselves on him, flinging the cat tails far and wide.
“As far as I can see, he’s a perfect match. The man raises them for sale. I gave him the doctor’s address, and he promised to get in touch with him at once. However, I’ll write a letter too, and mail it in the first town we come to.”
“Isn’t it nice,” said Desiré, when they were once more on their way, “that you were able to do something for the doctor in return for his kindness to you?”
“Yes; and do you know, Dissy, people have been most awfully kind to us all summer.”
“They surely have. I never dreamed we’d make so many friends.”
“Huh!” said Priscilla bluntly; “some of them weren’t very nice. Those folks in Halifax were just horrid!”
“Hush!” ordered Desiré severely; for she had never repeated to Jack her unpleasant experiences in that city.
Jack looked searchingly at her flushed face, but said nothing more about it until they were alone that evening; then he insisted on hearing the whole story.
“Never again!” he decreed, “shall you or Prissy try to sell things on the street.”
“But we’re all peddlers, Jack dear; you can’t get away from that fact.”
“Dissy,” said her brother, smiling, “you’ll get to be as much of an arguer as Prissy if you’re not careful.”
Halifax was wrapped in a chilly grey fog when the Wistmores drove in a couple of days later. The monotonous tones of the bell buoy in the harbor sounded continuously through the city, and buildings and pavements dripped with moisture.
“Guess we’d better push right on,” decided Jack, “and try to find before night a spot where it is dry enough to camp.”
“This certainly isn’t a very pleasant place today,” shivered Desiré, peering over his shoulder at the gloomy streets.
After they got beyond the limits of the city, the fog lifted somewhat so they could see the road quite clearly, and even some distance on either side. About ten miles outside of Halifax they caught sight of something dark under a tree ahead.
CHAPTER XX
GOOD SAMARITANS
“Maybe it’s a bear!” exclaimed René hopefully.
“Somebody’s old ragbag,” suggested Priscilla.
“No,” concluded Desiré, “it’s a man.”
“Must be sick, or dead tired to sit there on such a day,” observed Jack.
Just as he spoke the words, the interested watchers saw the man attempt to get up, and fall heavily back upon the ground. Urging the horses to greater speed, Jack soon brought the wagon abreast of the unfortunate creature. Face down, he lay perfectly motionless.
“Must be unconscious,” said Jack, as they all got out and stumbled up the bank upon which the man was stretched.
Desiré held her breath as her brother was rolling the figure carefully over. There was something strangely familiar about that heavy form. No mistake, it was their old enemy.
Brother and sister faced each other across the quiet body.
“Oh, it’s him!” said Priscilla, in disgust.
“He’s the man Jack fought with!” squealed René.
“Must be badly hurt,” said Jack; “wonder what we can do for him.”
“D
o! Do!” exclaimed Priscilla; “why, leave him here and go on as fast as we can.”
“Prissy!” reproved Jack and Desiré with one accord.
“I’m afraid I can’t carry him to the wagon,” said Jack slowly. “He’s so heavy.”
“Don’t want him in our nice wag’n,” declared René vehemently.
“I can help you,” offered Desiré, striving to conquer her aversion to the man.
At that moment, the object of their concern groaned and opened his eyes. Unseeing, at first, they soon showed recognition of the faces above his.
“What’s the trouble with you?” asked Jack.
“Cracked up somewhere,” was the sullen response.
“How did it happen?”
“Fell over those stones in the fog.”
Desiré turned to glance at the big pile of sharp rocks nearby, and felt that a fall on those could do almost any damage in an unexpected encounter.
“Where can we take you, or what can we do for you?” asked Jack briskly.
“Nothin’.”
“That’s ridiculous! You can’t stay here. Could you walk as far as the wagon if we helped you?”
“Can try.”
With the aid of Jack and Desiré, one on either side, he managed to get up. One or two promptly stifled groans broke from him, and he swayed precariously as he tried to stand.
“One foot’s no good,” he muttered, holding it up and throwing all his weight on the other.
“You two children go back and get into your places in the wagon,” ordered Jack. “Push your stools as close to the front seat as you can.”
Reluctantly they obeyed, hanging over the seat to watch the little procession. Slowly, painfully, stopping often to rest, the injured man was finally helped as far as the wagon.
“Lean on the wheel a minute,” directed Jack, “so my sister can get things fixed for you.”
Desiré opened the back doors, pushed the tent as far to the side as it would go, and arranged a couple of blankets on the floor.
“This is going to be the hardest bit,” observed Jack, when all was ready, “but we’ve got to make it some way.”
“Prissy and I can help him from the wagon, if you can manage out here,” suggested Desiré.
“All right, get in.”
The two girls, Priscilla under protest, grasped the man’s shoulders and pulled, while Jack eased his body and legs up from the ground to the floor of the wagon. Half fainting with pain and exertion, the patient was finally settled on the blankets.
“Where are you going to take him?” asked Desiré softly, as Jack took his place and picked up the reins.
“Back to Halifax, where he can get a doctor. I think his ribs as well as his foot are injured; and Heaven only knows what else.”
They were all very quiet as they re-covered the ten miles to the city. Priscilla was sullen; René somewhat awed; Desiré compassionate, and Jack thoughtful.
As they entered Halifax, Jack turned toward their passenger and asked—
“Any special place here you want to be taken?”
“Wharf. Pal there who’ll look after me.”
Over the cobblestones, down the steep hill to the docks they rattled.
“There he is. Tall fellow beside that pile of crates,” said the man who had been peering out the crack between the doors, which had been propped partly open to give him more air.
“Bill!” he shouted.
The fisherman turned at the sound of his name, and Jack beckoned. With three or four strides he was beside the wagon.
“What’s wanted?”
Before the boy could reply, the injured man called out—“I’m in here, Bill. Had a smash.”
The newcomer, without a word, stepped to the back of the wagon and stuck his head in. After a short conversation, during which the Wistmores stood beside the horses’ heads, he slid the invalid part way out, put his powerful arms under him, and picked him up like a child.
“Much obliged to you for bringing him back,” he said awkwardly to Jack; then strode away down the wharf; but before they were out of earshot, the injured man called back over the other one’s shoulder—“You’ve won!”
“Well, of all strange experiences,” exclaimed Desiré.
“Whatever did he mean?” asked Priscilla.
“Perhaps that he wouldn’t bother us any more,” replied Jack slowly.
“An’ he didn’t give you any money, nor nothin’,” grumbled René, as they started out of Halifax for the second time that day. “I thought if anybody helped anyone else they always gave ’em a—a—re—reward.”
“We did get a reward,” said Desiré softly, “but not the kind you mean.”
“Where’s his wagon?” demanded Priscilla.
“Probably he left it in Halifax,” replied Jack carelessly, as he wondered just what harm to themselves the pile of stones might have thwarted.
Progress on the way back toward Wolfville was necessarily slow; for housewives all along the route were preparing for the coming winter when indoor occupations must replace the activities of the warm months. Thread, wool, and notions of all kinds were in great demand; for the women folk must keep busy with more feminine tasks, the hands that during the summer had helped in gardens and farmyards, as well as in picking blueberries to be shipped to the States. Daily great trucks stop at the scattered houses along certain sections rich in that fruit to gather up supplies and take their loads to the seaports where ships are waiting for them. The average tourists en route from Nova Scotia to the States little know, when they are pacing the decks of the comfortable steamers, that far below are crates and crates of berries which will later be consumed by themselves at home or in hotels.
Several times Jack had to replenish his stock as best he could from some town through which they passed; and Desiré daily rejoiced at the steadily increasing number of coins in their little iron bank.
“We’ll be rich yet!” she exulted, shaking it merrily as they drove away from Mount Uniacke.
“Sorry to destroy your hopes,” said Jack, half under his breath, so as not to be overheard by the two children on the floor behind them, playing a hotly contested game on the board which Mrs. Auberge had given them. “Had you thought that we’ll have to get some kind of furniture for the Godet house?”
Desiré looked at him wide-eyed with surprise and dismay.
“Why, Jack, how stupid I am! I never once thought of it.”
“Nor I, until today. I don’t know what was the matter with our brains.”
As if stunned by the discovery, they drove for some time in utter silence. In the protection afforded by an upturned coat collar, and a hat pulled far down over her curls, the girl let fall a few tears. Jack, gazing fixedly ahead, half buried in a coat at least two sizes too large for him, was apparently oblivious of her distress.
The day was grey and cold, with a brisk wind whirling the golden leaves of the birches in all directions, scattering the piles of brushwood collected and left beside the road by some native for firewood; rolling the pine cones merrily along in the dust, and making the great firs and balsams toss their branches ceaselessly. Its chill warned of the near approach of snow and ice.
“Jack,” began Desiré at last.
“Yes?” untangling himself from his problems with a start, and turning toward her.
“I’ve been thinking about expenses for the winter. Of course food will cost more, because while we were on the road we had fish and berries to help out; but in regard to the furniture, we could get only what is absolutely necessary for now, and add other pieces as we were able to. We could doubtless pick up used articles at low prices. Think how little we got for our own things when we sold them.”
“But you and the children have got to be comfortable, and warm,” said Jack decidedly. “Camp life in the summer is all right; but too much makeshift doesn’t work in the winter time.”
“You must be comfortable, too,” added Desiré affectionately; “but we can do with a couple
of mattresses on the floor, and a table and four chairs for the present. Maybe we could buy those from someone in Wolfville who had more than they needed, and get them cheaper that way.”
“We must have a stove, dishes, and bedding,” added Jack.
“The fireplace will do for heating; and I can cook on the camp stove. We’ve had enough dishes and bedding for the summer; so a couple of extra blankets will be all that we’ll have to buy in that line.”
“But I don’t want you to live like that,” interrupted her brother; “we should have been more comfortable if we’d stayed in Sissiboo—”
“Oh, Jack! With you killing yourself trying to pay off a big debt, and no prospects for years and years! As it is, at least we’re not in debt; we’ve had a lovely summer, in spite of a few unpleasant spots; we’re all healthy and together; and we’re going to live in the Godet house this winter.”
“You’re a cheerful little partner, Dissy,” said Jack, looking at her so admiringly that she flushed with shame as she recalled the tears so recently shed.
“Of course we have money enough to get actual necessities for the winter,” he continued, shamed by his sister’s courage into taking a more hopeful view of their situation. “And I’m hoping that I’ll be able to pick up something steady in Wolfville, or even Windsor, for the winter.”
“Perhaps the judge will be able to help you.”
“He might.”
“So don’t get all blue and discouraged again, Jack dear; we’ll come out all right.”
Late in the afternoon of another dull day, they stopped in front of Judge Herbine’s house.
“Guess we got here just in time,” observed Jack, as he got out, pointing to a few stray flakes of snow idling aimlessly through the air as if they didn’t care whether they stayed up or floated down.
The judge himself opened the door.
“So here you are at last!” was his pleasant greeting. “Come in—have a cup of tea—before you go—to look at your own place. Work’s all done.”
They were all cold and tired, and very glad to accept his invitation. His housekeeper, Madam Lovemore—for the judge had never married—bustled around preparing a substantial supper instead of “tea.” She was a sociable, motherly creature, who loved to have company at any time; but the thoughts of these poor young things driving so many miles in the cold, and going to live in that old house, so touched her heart that no effort was too great, and no food too fine to be placed before them.
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 51
