Sonnie-Boy's People Part 1

Sonnie-Boy's People.

by James B. Connolly.

The man with the gold-headed cane had been headed for the cottage, but espying the boy at the water's edge, he changed his course. He crept to within a few paces of the lad before he hailed: "Halloo, little boy!

I'll bet I know who your papa is."

The boy looked casually around. Seeing that it was a stranger, he faced about and stood respectfully erect.

"Mr. Welkie's little boy, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. But I'm 'most six."

"Oh-h, I see--a big boy now. But what have you got there?"

The boy held up the toy steamer with which he had been playing.

"Oh-h, I see now. What are you going to do with it?"

The boy looked sidewise out to where in the bay a fleet of battle-s.h.i.+ps were lying to anchor.

"Load it with sugar and pineapples, and s.h.i.+p 'em to the States, are you?"

"But it's a gun-s.h.i.+p. See--where the turrets 'n' the fighting-tops will be when papa makes them."

"Oh! and so you want to be a great merchant?"

"I want to be a fighter"--articulating slowly and distinctly--"on a big gun-s.h.i.+p."

"Well, if ever you do, little man, I'll bet you'll be a game one, too.

Is your papa home?"

"No, sir, but Aunt Marie is."

"And is Aunt Marie busy, do you think?"

"I don't know, sir, but she's making a battle-flag for my gun-s.h.i.+p."

"That so? I think I will call on Aunt Marie, then."

Swinging his cane and advancing leisurely, the stranger headed for the screened veranda door.

Marie Welkie, because of having to keep an eye on her nephew from the veranda, could not avoid noticing the stranger. The clothing, the jewelry, the air of a.s.surance, had disturbed and half amused her; but the kindly tone with the boy, the parting pat of his head, were more pleasing. She answered his knock herself.

"Good evening--Miss Welkie?" That Southern "good evening" in the middle of the afternoon likewise pleased her.

"Miss Welkie, yes."

"I'm Mr. Necker." From a gold-mounted case he drew out a card. "I'm looking for your brother."

"He won't be home for some time yet. But won't you step in, Mr. Necker, from out of the sun?"

"Thank you. It is warm, isn't it? Warmer than ordinary?"

"No, I shouldn't say so. It's usually hot here."

"Then it must be hot here when it is hot. It wasn't so bad out in the Gulf. I just got in--from Key West. Not many pa.s.sengers come here, Miss Welkie?"

"Only somebody especially interested in the works--usually from Was.h.i.+ngton. Do you mind if I go ahead with this ensign for my nephew, Mr. Necker?" She held up a partly finished American ensign. Above the top of it the visitor could see part of the very white forehead and a front of dark straight hair. "I promised to have it ready for my nephew surely by morning, and after my brother gets home there probably won't be much spare time. But were you the only pa.s.senger for here, Mr.

Necker?"

"There was one other. He got off at the new fortification landing.

Twenty-nine or thirty perhaps he was--a well-made, easy-moving kind."

His voice was casual, but his gaze was keen enough. It never left her face. "A tall man came running down to meet him," he resumed. "They seemed terribly glad to see each other."

"That must have been my brother to meet--Mr. Balfe, was it?--your fellow-pa.s.senger."

He hesitated a moment. "Mr. Balfe--yes, that was it. The captain--or was it the captain?--said that there was a Mr. Balfe who went on special missions for the government, but whether this was the Mr. Balfe or not he could not say."

She sewed serenely on. "I've heard that that steamer captain is developing into a great gossip. Our Mr. Balfe is my brother's dearest friend and G.o.dfather to my brother's boy--the boy you were speaking to on the beach--and if he ever found himself in this part of the world without calling on us, I don't know what my brother would think."

This time Miss Welkie looked up, and Necker smiled with her. Also he peered smilingly through the veranda vine. "So that is your brother's boy out there? Well, well! And a fine boy, too! A beautifully shaped head. Bright, I'll bet?"

"Naturally"--with a tender smile--"we think so."

"I'll bet he is. And of course your brother is laying great plans to a.s.sure his future?"

"I'm afraid you are not well acquainted with my brother, Mr. Necker."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "And of course your brother is laying great plans to a.s.sure his future?"]

"Not personally, Miss Welkie, but surely he won't neglect his own child's future?"

"I'm afraid that would not be his way of looking at it."

"And his way is a fine way, no doubt, Miss Welkie--if a man had only himself to think of. But can, or should, his family--" he paused.

"His family? Young Greg and I are his family, Mr. Necker, and I'm sure we're not worrying about the future." Her head bent lower to her sewing, but not too low for Necker to see the little smile, half of humor, half of something else, hovering on her lips.

"Because you're too young--and too unselfish."

This time her head came up and the smile developed into a soft laugh.

"No, no, nothing quite so fine as that, nor quite so awfully young. At twenty-three----"

Necker tried to meet her eyes; but the eyes were not for him, nor for the boy on the beach this time, nor for the brave war-s.h.i.+ps at anchor.

Her eyes were for something farther away. Necker, twisting in his chair, could distinguish through the haze the fortification walls on the other side of the little bay.

There was another little smile hovering. Necker waited hopefully. She, catching his eye, flushed and returned to her sewing. "We're all very happy here," she added after a moment, and, still flus.h.i.+ng, resumed her needle.