Part 59 (1/2)

CHAPTER FIVE

_The Time Limit_

”What is the total, Constance?” her brother inquired wearily, as his sister poured over a long list of figures on a balance sheet before her.

”In a minute,” she said and continued her figuring. Presently, with a sigh she straightened up, and handed him a sheet, showing a list of names, at the right of which was registered various amounts.

”Seven thousand six hundred fifty-nine dollars and fifteen cents,” he repeated, half aloud. He looked at his sister, and saw in her tired eyes, failure staring them in the face. Unless something extraordinary occurred, the chances of securing a Y.M.C.A. for the colored youth of the city was doomed to failure. He laid the sheet down, and picked up another piece of paper--a letter. He had read it several times, but now he read it again. He didn't want to believe what was written upon it, and signed by the Jew philanthrophist. But it was before him in plain, typewritten words, and was to this effect:

_Mr. Wilson Jacobs_, _Secretary Y.M.C.A._

MY DEAR SIR: Receipt of your letter of December 1, is here acknowledged. I note carefully what you say in regard to your efforts in relation to the securing of funds for the Y.M.C.A. for the colored youth of your city.

You are of course aware that my offer, made five years ago, in which I agreed to give the sum of $25,000 to any city, where an additional sum of $75,000 was forthcoming from other sources. The time I made that offer was five years ago January of the coming year. Therefore, the time will expire at twelve, December 31, this month.

With regard to extending the time limit on these gifts, I regret to say that I have made no such provision. Moreover, with the present condition of the financial outlook, I cannot see my way clear to do so. However, all cities that report favorably up to that date, I will fulfill my agreement.

Regretting that I cannot write you more favorably, but hoping it will be possible for you to comply with my offer, I beg to remain,

Very truly, J. ROSENTHAL.

He laid the letter aside. He had known before he wrote, what to expect, for announcements had come from Grantville, that the philanthropist would not extend the time on his gifts for this purpose. Hard times had spread over the country, until not enough was being collected to maintain the cost of the office and advertising, notwithstanding the fact that they secured it at the smallest possible rate. Both were compelled to acknowledge now that a failure seemed imminent. To secure the gift of the Jew, it was necessary for them to raise still more than twenty-seven thousand dollars.

Could he raise such a sum in view of prevailing circ.u.mstances?

”Have you received a decision from the railroad president, who personally contributed five hundred dollars, Wilson?” Constance now inquired.

”The hoped for appropriations for such purposes have been deferred indefinitely,” he replied. ”So there is no hope now, only from the local interests, and they, I fear, are hopeless.”

”And you see no place where such a sum might be raised--in so short a time?” she asked again, a trifle nervous.

”Only to go north, and try to enlist the sympathy of other philanthropic persons.”

”And--will--you go?” She looked at him now, anxiously.

”Yes, I will go,” he returned.

”May G.o.d be with us!” she sighed, and picked up the afternoon paper. She glanced over it, and saw the usual accounts relating to the shutting down of various industrial concerns, and, as she looked further, there were the same accounts regarding the colored people. The business of fighting and stealing and getting drunk went on more actively than usual, if such were possible. She laid it aside presently, and picked up her subscription list. She was still selling the book, and had a great many sales for the holiday trade.

When she paid the charges on a consignment of books a few minutes later, and unwrapped them, she thought of her dear friend who had brought her attention to the work. How much she would have liked to see her, she did not conjecture; but she was glad now she had taken up the work. The returns from the sale of it, had meant a great deal to the home in the past months. Wilson, who usually made some money otherwise than what he received from the church, which was small, had been unable to look after or give his time to anything but the work of the Y.M.C.A. Therefore, the money from the sale of the book had come in at an opportune time.

As for Mildred, the earth seemed to have swallowed her, insofar as they had been able to ascertain. Wilson had worried to a point where he now looked ten years older than he had six months before. Grantville had given up in despair. Five thousand dollars was all they had been able to raise, and, therefore, realized how useless it was to continue the effort, which had subsequently come to an end. She believed in her brother; she was confident he could raise the amount necessary, if he had the time. If the gift from the Jew could have been possible a year hence, she was confident he could raise the balance; but, with less than four weeks, it seemed hopeless.

And yet, ”as long as there is life there is hope!” He would go north the coming Monday--this was Friday--and she hoped he would be successful.

Until he returned, she would not despair. She made preparations for his departure, by packing his steamer trunk, washed his handkerchiefs, purchased many little necessities from her own purse, and placed them along with the rest of his belongings.

”Will you go to New York or Chicago?” she inquired as they sat at dinner.

”I suppose the chances are better beyond New York. I shall, of course, go directly to New York, but from there I will go into New England. I have credentials from several well known white people, as well as letters from the secretary of the white Y.M.C.A. here, and at Effingham and Attalia, so I think that part is quite sufficiently looked after.”