Part 15 (2/2)
”Here's a note from Miz' Drugg. Said for me to give it to ye,” said the boy, as he clattered down the steps again.
CHAPTER XI
”MEN MUST WORK WHILE WOMEN MUST WEEP”
Janice brought the letter indoors to read by the light of the kitchen lamp. Her heart fluttered, for she feared that it was something about Nelson. The Drugg domicile was almost across the street from the Beaseley cottage and the girl did not know but that 'Rill had been delegated to tell her something of moment about the young schoolmaster.
Marty, too, was eagerly curious. ”Hey, Janice! what's the matter?” he whispered, at her shoulder.
”Mr. Drugg has to be away this evening and she is afraid to stay in the house and store alone. She wants me to come over and spend the night with her. May I, Auntie?”
”Of course, child--go if you like,” Aunt 'Mira said briskly. ”You've been before.”
Twice Mr. Drugg had been away buying goods and Janice had spent the night with 'Rill and little Lottie.
”Though what protection I could be to them if a burglar broke in, I'm sure I don't know,” Janice had said, laughingly, on a former occasion.
She went upstairs to pack her handbag rather gravely. She was glad to go to the Drugg place to remain through the night. She would be near Nelson Haley! Somehow, she felt that being across the street from the schoolmaster would be a comfort.
When she came downstairs Marty had his hat and coat on. ”I'll go across town with ye--and carry the bag,” he proposed. ”Going to the reading room, anyway.”
”That's nice of you, Marty,” she said, trying to speak in her usual cheery manner.
Janice was rather glad it was a moonless evening as she walked side by side with her cousin down Hillside Avenue. It was one of the first warm evenings of the Spring and the neighbors were on their porches, or gossiping at the gates and boundary fences.
What about? Ah! too well did Janice Day know the general subject of conversation this night in Polktown.
”Come on, Janice,” grumbled Marty. ”Don't let any of those old cats stop you. They've all got their claws sharpened up.”
”Hush, Marty!” she begged, yet feeling a warm thrill at her heart because of the boy's loyalty.
”There's that old Benny Thread!” exploded Marty, as they came out on the High Street. ”Oh! he's as important now as a Billy-goat on an ash-heap. You'd think, to hear him, that he'd stole the coins himself--only he didn't have no chance't. He and Jack Besmith wouldn't ha' done a thing to that bunch of money--no, indeed!--if they'd got hold of it.”
”Why, Marty!” put in Janice; ”you shouldn't say that.” Then, with sudden curiosity, she added: ”What has that drug clerk got to do with the janitor of the school building?”
”He's Benny's brother-in-law. But Jack's left town, I hear.”
”He's gone with Trimmins and Narnay into the woods,” Janice said thoughtfully.
”So _he's_ out of it,” grumbled Marty. ”Jack went up to Ma.s.sey's the other night to try to get his old job back, and Ma.s.sey turned him out of the store. Told him his breath smothered the smell of iodoform in the back shop,” and Marty giggled. ”That's how Jack come to get a pint and wander up into our sheep fold to sleep it off.”
”Oh, dear, Marty,” sighed Janice, ”this drinking in Polktown is getting to be a dreadful thing. See how Walky Dexter was to-night.”
”Yep.”
”Everything that's gone wrong lately is the fault of Lem Parraday's bar.”
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