Grace North - Meg of Mystery Mountain

But even yet the matter was not decided.

That Thursday night, after the younger members of the household were asleep, Mr. Abbott and his mother talked together in his den.

“Julie was the happiest child in this world when I told her she was to go with Dan.” The old lady smiled as she recalled the hoppings and squealings with which the small girl had expressed her joy. “Luckily I’d washed and ironed her summer clothes on Monday and Tuesday, and this being only Thursday, she hadn’t soiled any of them.”

Then her tone changed to one of tenderness. “Dan,” she said, “Julie and Jane aren’t much alike, are they? That little girl didn’t hop and squeal long before she thought of something that sobered her. Then she told me, ‘I don’t like to go, Grandma, and leave Gerald at home. He’s been wishing and wishing and wishing he could go, but he wouldn’t tell Dad ’cause he wants to stay home and earn money to help.’”

To the little old lady’s surprise, her companion sprang up as he exclaimed: “Mother, I won’t be gone long. Wait up for me!” Seizing his hat from the hall “tree,” he left the house. “Well, now, that’s certainly a curious caper,” the old lady thought. “He couldn’t have been listening to a word I was saying. He must have thought of something he’d forgotten, probably it’s something for Jane. Well, there’s nothing for me to do but wait.” She glanced at the clock on the mantle. Even then it was late. She was usually asleep at ten. There had been time for many a little cat-nap before she heard her son returning. His expression assured the old lady that he was satisfied with the result of his errand.

“Why, Dan Abbott,” she exclaimed, “whatever started you off in that way? ’Twasn’t anything I said, was it?”

The man sank down in his chair again and took from his pocket a telegram. “That’s what I went after, mother,” he told her. “I wired Bethel for one more pass, as I had a small son who also wished to go West, and this is his answer:

“‘Glad indeed to accommodate you, Dan, and I’m sending one more, just for good measure. Happened to recall that you have four children. Let me do something else for you, old man, if I can.’”

The grandmother looked up with shining eyes as she commented: “Bert Bethel’s a true friend, if there ever was one. Won’t Gerry be wild with joy?

“But, goodness me, Danny, that means more packing to do. There’s room enough in Julie’s trunk for the things Gerald will need, and I do believe I’ll go right up and put them in while the boy’s asleep.” Then she paused and looked at her son inquiringly. “Will it be quite fair to Mr. Peterson to have Gerry leave his store without giving notice?”

“I’ve attended to that, mother,” the man replied. “While I was waiting for an answer from Bert, I walked over to the grocery and told Jock Peterson all that had happened, and he was as pleased as he could be. He wants Gerald to come over there first thing in the morning to get a present to take with him.

“He didn’t say what it would be. I don’t even suppose that he had decided when he spoke. I was indeed happy to have him praise Gerald as he did. He said that he would trust our boy with any amount of money. He has watched Gerald, as he always does every lad who works in the store. He said that nearly all of them had helped themselves to a piece of candy from the showcase when they had wished, but that Gerald had never once touched a thing that did not belong to him. Mr. Peterson was so pleased that he asked Gerald about it one day, saying: ‘Don’t you like candy, lad?’ And our boy replied: ‘Indeed I do, Mr. Peterson! I don’t buy it because I want to save all my money to help Dad.’

“Gerald hadn’t even thought of helping himself as he worked around the store.”

“Of course, Gerry wouldn’t,” the old lady replied emphatically, “for isn’t he your son, Daniel?”

“And your grandson, mother?” the man smilingly returned. “But we must get some sleep,” he added, as the chimes on the mantle clock told them that it was eleven. “Tomorrow is to be a busy day.”

It was also to be a day of surprises, although this, these two did not guess.

Grandmother Abbott had indeed been right when she prophecied that Gerald’s joy, upon hearing that he could accompany Dan and his sister Julie, would be unbounded. She told him before breakfast while they were waiting for the others to come down. They had planned telling him later, but when his father saw how hard the small boy was trying to be brave; how the tune he was endeavoring to whistle wavered and broke, he could stand it no longer, and, putting a hand on each of the boy’s shoulders, he looked down at him as he asked: “Son, if you could have your dearest wish fulfilled, what would it be?”

The lad hesitated, then he said earnestly: “There’s two things to wish for, Dad, and they’re both awful big. I want everything to be all right for you, but, oh, how I do want brother Dan to get well.”

Tears sprang to the eyes of the little old lady, and placing a hand affectionately on the boy’s head she asked: “Isn’t there something else, dearie, something you’d be wishing just for yourself?”

It was quite evident to the two who were watching that a struggle was going on in the boy’s heart. He had assured himself, time and again, that his dad must not know how he wished that he could go with Dan. He even felt guilty, because he wanted to go, believing that his dad needed his help at home, and so he said nothing. His father, surmising that this might be the case, asked, with one of his rare smiles: “If you knew, son, that I thought it best for you to go with Julie, to help her take care of Dan, would you be pleased?”

Such a light as there was in the freckled face, but, even then, the boy did not let himself rejoice. “Dad,” he said, “don’t you need me here?”

“No, son, your grandmother has decided to stay all summer. She has found a nice family to take care of her farm. Indeed I shall feel better, knowing that you are with Julie, if Dan should be really ill.”

For a moment the good news seemed to stun the little fellow. But when the full realization of what it meant surged over him, he leaped into his father’s arms and hugged him hard, then turning, he bolted for the stairway, and went up two steps at a time.

“Hurray!” he fairly shouted. “Dan, Jane, Julie, I’m going to Mystery Mountain!”

This unexpected news was received joyfully by Julie and Dan, but Jane, who was putting the last touches to her traveling costume, merely gave a shrug, which was reflected back to her in the long mirror. “Well, thanks be, I’m not going,” she confided to that reflection. “I’d be worn to rags by the end of the summer if I had to listen to such shrieking. I’m thankful Merry’s Aunt Belle has no children. They may be all very well for people who like them, but I think they are superlative nuisances.”

The entire family had gathered in the dining room when Jane descended, and, after the grace had been said, the two youngest members began to chatter their excitement like little magpies. Dan, who sat next to Jane, smiled at her lovingly. “I suppose you are going to have a wonderful time, little girl,” he said. “I have heard that Newport is a merry whirl for society people in the summer time, with dances, tallyho rides, and picnic suppers.”

Jane’s eyes glowed, and she voiced her agreement. “I’ve heard so, too, and I’ve always been just wild to have a wee taste of that gay life, and now I can hardly believe that I am to be right in the midst of it for three glorious months.” Then, as she saw a sudden wearied expression in her brother’s face, she added: “You’re very tired, Dan, aren’t you? If only you were rested, I should try to plan some way to have you go with me. I’m wild to have you meet Merry. I do believe she is just the kind of a girl whom you would like. You never have cared for any girl yet, have you? I mean not particularly well?”