Now then, here is the
box. Drop it in like a good child, and then you shall shoo the fowls,
and have your plumcake, and look in the microscope."
"But, Aunt Church--" said Tom. He planted himself right in front of the
old lady. He was a tall boy, well set up, with a sandy head, and a face
covered with freckles. He had rather shallow blue eyes and a wide mouth,
but his whole expression was honest and full of fun. "I am desperately
sorry, and so is mother."
"Eh! What?" said the old lady. She put her hand to her ear. "I am a bit
hard of hearing, my dear; come close to me."
"Mother's awfully sorry, but she can't pay you to-day."
"Oh!" said Mrs. Church; "can't pay me to-day! But it's the first of the
month, and she was never behindhand--I will say that--in her payments
before."
"She's fretting past bearing," said Tom. "She'd give all the world to be
able to pay you up, but she ain't got the money, and that's a fact. We
have had a robbery in the shop, Aunt Church, and mother has took on
dreadful."
"A burglary?" said Mrs. Church. "Now tell me all about it. Stand here
and pour your words into my ear. I am very much interested about
burglaries. Was there attempted murder? Speak up, boy--speak up."
Tom quite longed to say that there was. Had he been able to assure Mrs.
Church that burglars with masks on their faces had burst into the shop
at dead of night and penetrated to his mother's bedroom, and had held
pistols to her throat and Susy's throat, and a great bare, glittering
knife to his; and had he been further able to tell her that he himself,
unaided, had grappled with the enemy, had wrested the knife from the
hand of one, and knocked the loaded pistols from the hands of the
others--then, indeed, he would have felt himself a hero, and the mere
fact of not being able to return the money on the appointed day would
not have signified.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163