Janice Day Part 38

"But I _do_ mean it. Why not? Do you suppose the old gentleman comes into the reading-room without being interested in it?"

"Say!" drawled her cousin. "I'll be the goat all right, all right!"

Janice was indeed cultivating the old Elder's acquaintance. She would not have done it to benefit herself in any way; but to help the library----

"You young folks need a balance wheel," Elder Concannon once said to Janice. "Youthful enthusiasm is all very well; but where's your balance?"

"Then why don't you come in with us and supply the balance?" she rejoined, briskly. "Goodness knows, Elder, we'd be glad to have you!"

Then came a red-letter day for Janice Day. She had almost lost hope of getting her "heart's desire"--the little motor car that Daddy had spoken of. Although his letters had been particularly cheerful of late, he had said nothing more about his promise.

Marty brought her home a thick letter from the post office and gave it to her at the dinner table. When she eagerly slit the flap of the envelope and pulled out the contents, there was flirted out upon the tablecloth a queer-looking certificate.

"Hullo! what's this?" demanded Marty, with all the impudence of a boy.

"Put that down, Marty," commanded his mother.

"By jinks! What's this in the corner?" he yelled. "A thousand dollars?

_A thousand dollars!_ Janice Day! you're as rich as cream!"

"Hi tunket, boy!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed his father. "Le's see that? It can't be!"

"It is!" shrieked Janice, jumping up and dancing around the room. "It's for my gasoline runabout! I'm going to have it--I certainly _am_!

Hurray! hurray!" and she kissed her aunt heartily and then danced another war dance with Marty around the table.

"Wal, I snum!" exclaimed Uncle Jason, still staring at the bit of paper, which was a Wells-Fargo express check for the sum named.

Janice could scarcely eat any dinner, she was so excited. What was mere eating to the possession of this check and the knowledge that all was going well once more with dear Daddy? Her most particular friends must share the joy with her.

She hurried into her jacket and hat, and ran across town to see Miss 'Rill; for, after all, the little spinster was her dearest and closest friend in Poketown.

But was this Miss 'Rill--this frantic, wild-eyed creature, hatless and with her hair flying, who came running down High Street just as Janice reached the corner of the street on which Hopewell Drugg's store was situated? _Could_ it be 'Rill Scattergood?

"Oh, Janice! Janice! have you heard about it? They just sent for me,"

gasped the little spinster lady.

"What do you mean, 'Rill? _Who_ sent for you?" Janice demanded.

"It's poor little Lottie!" cried the other, dragging Janice along with her. "She's fallen. I've been expecting it. She moves so quickly, you know, in spite of her blindness. And now she's fallen into the cellar----"

"Whose cellar? Oh! is she very, very badly hurt?" cried Janice, equally anxious.

"Hopewell had the trap door open. She came running into the shop and went straight down on her poor little head! Oh! she's all cut and bruised----"

Miss 'Rill could say no more. Nor did Janice need to ask, for they were at the store and pus.h.i.+ng through the little group of helpless but sympathizing neighbors. Dr. Poole was already there. They had Lottie in bed, all bandaged and white.

"Just a bad cut over the forehead--right across the crown," Dr. Poole a.s.sured the waiting neighbors. "She's had a bad shock, but she's in no particular danger. Only----"

He looked at Janice and shook his head. Then he whispered to her: "It's a terrible shame Hopewell can't send the poor little thing to a specialist and have her eyes fixed up. My soul and body, girl! If I'd only been able to go in for surgery myself--If I'd only learned to use the knife!" and he groaned, shook his head, did this old-school family pract.i.tioner, and departed.

Janice did not remain long. Miss 'Rill would sit by the child for the remainder of the afternoon; and even her mother was anxious to help and promised to come over and stay all night at Hopewell's.

"I ain't got nothin' ag'in the poor child, that's sure," Mrs.

Scattergood told Janice. "It's only Hopewell that's so triflin'--he an'

his fiddle. Jest like his father before him!"

But the storekeeper's fiddle was silent a good deal of the time now; only when Miss 'Rill or Janice urged him did the man take up the instrument that had once been so much his comfort--and little Lottie's delight.

But now, on this sorrowful afternoon, Janice went back slowly toward home with a very serious mind indeed. On the way she met Nelson Haley coming from school.

"Congratulations--and then some!" he cried, shaking hands with Janice.

"Whatever are you talking about?" she asked, puzzled.

"Marty has been telling everybody the great and good news!" he said, staring at her. "Why! what makes you so solemn? Do you mean to say that you can't decide what kind of an auto to buy, and that is what has soured our Janice's usually sweet disposition?"

"Oh, Nelson!" gasped the girl, suddenly clinging to his arm, for she really felt a weakness in her knees.

"Hold on! hold on! bear up! What's the matter?"

"I forgot about poor Daddy's check. Of course--that's the way out."

"What's the way out?" he demanded.

"Haven't you heard about poor little Lottie?"

"What's happened to her?" he asked, anxiously.

She told him swiftly. Then stopped. He demanded:

"What's that got to do with the auto, Janice?"

"Don't you see it has _everything_ to do with it, Nelson?" she returned, gravely. "Of course, I could not buy a car when Lottie needs some of my money so much. She shall start for Boston just as soon as she is well enough to go--and of course Miss 'Rill will go with her. Hopewell cannot leave the store. Lottie shall go to the specialist, Nelson."

For a minute the school-teacher was silent. He looked at the girl's s.h.i.+ning, earnest face in a way she had never noticed before. But at last he only smiled a little queerly, and said:

"Why--Well, Janice Day, there's no odor of gasoline about _that_!"

CHAPTER XXIX

JANICE DAY'S FIRST LOVE LETTER

In a week, although little Lottie's head was still bandaged, she was driven over to Middletown with Miss 'Rill, Walky Dexter being the driver, of course, and took a train for Boston.

Before the day of departure Janice Day had a good deal to contend with.