Betty Gordon at Bramble Farm; Or, The Mystery of a Nobody Read online

  CHAPTER XV

  NURSE AND PATIENT

  WHEN the next Sunday came round the shrill song of the locusts beganearly, foretelling a hot day. The heat and the flies and the generaluninviting appearance of the breakfast table irritated Betty more thanusual, and only consideration for Mrs. Peabody, who looked wretchedlyill, kept her at the table through the meal. Lieson and Mr. Peabodybickered incessantly, and Wapley, who had taken cold, coughed noisily.

  "Guess I'll go over and see Doc Guerin an' get him to give me somethingfor this cold," Wapley mumbled, after a particularly violent paroxysm."Never knew folks had colds in summer, but I got one for sure."

  "You take some of that horse medicine out on the barn shelf," advisedPeabody. "The bottle's half full, and I'll sell it to you for aquarter. The doctor's stuff will cost you all of a dollar, and thathorse medicine will warm you up fine. That's all you want, anyway,something to kind of heat up your pipes."

  Betty hoped fervently that the man would not follow this remarkableprescription, and it was with actual relief that she saw him comedownstairs an hour later arrayed in his best clothes ready to walkto town. She had her camera ready and stood patiently in the sun forfifteen minutes till she had taken the promised pictures. Wapley wassnapped alone and with Lieson, and then a photograph of Lieson alone,and then it was Bob's turn. That usually amiable youth was inclined tobe sulky, but finally yielded to persuasion. Betty was anxious to senda full set of pictures to her uncle, and while Bob's "Sunday best" wasexactly the same as his week-day attire, still, as she pointed out, hecould wear his pleasantest expression for a "close up."

  The cause for Bob's crossness was revealed after Lieson and Wapleyhad started for Glenside. His sore finger was swollen and gave himconsiderable pain.

  "Why didn't you go with them and see the doctor?" scolded Betty. "Gonow. I think the cut should be opened, Bob."

  "I'm not going," said Bob flatly. "Where'd I get any money to pay him?"

  "I have some----" Betty was beginning, but he cut her short with thecurt announcement that he was not going to let her do everything forhim.

  "Well, then, go over and let Doctor Guerin examine your finger andoffer to work it out for him in some way," urged Betty. "Don't be sillyabout money, Bob; any doctor does his work first and then asks abouthis pay. Won't you go?"

  "No, I won't," retorted Bob ungraciously. "I'm too dog-gone tired towalk that far, anyway. Let's take books out to the orchard, and if youhave any crackers or anything, we won't come back for dinner. I hatethat hot kitchen!"

  This was very unlike Bob, and Betty noticed that his face was flushedand his eyes heavy. She was sure he had fever, but she knew it wasuseless to argue with him. So, like the sensible girl she was, shetried to make him comfortable without further consulting him. She hada new parcel of magazines he had not seen, and without asking Mrs.Peabody, she took a square rug from the parlor for him to lie on andthe pillow from her bed. Mrs. Peabody she knew would not object to therug being used, but Mr. Peabody was shaving in the kitchen, and if heheard the request would instantly deny it.

  On her last trip to the town Betty had bought a dozen lemons and apackage of soda fountain straws, and when Bob complained of thirst, shesurprised him with a lemonade. Fortunately the water from the spring inone of the meadows was icy cold.

  Bob's "Gee, that's good!" more than repaid her for her trouble and theheat headache that throbbed in her temples from her hurried journeysdown to the spring.

  There was a faint breeze stirring fitfully in the orchard, and it wasshady. Betty read aloud to Bob until he fell asleep. After he wasunconscious, she looked at him pityingly, noting the sore finger heldstiffly away from its fellows and the pathetic droop of the boyishmouth.

  "His mother would be so sorry!" she thought, folding up a paper toserve as a fan and beginning to fan him gently. "I wonder how hehappened to be born in the poorhouse. He has nice hands and feet,well-proportioned, that is, and mother always said that was a mark ofgood breeding. Besides, I know from the way he speaks and acts that heis different from these hired men."

  Betty continued to fan till she saw Mrs. Peabody come out of thekitchen and go to the woodshed. Then she ran in to tell her that Bobwould probably sleep through dinner and that would be one less for thenoon meal. Sunday dinner was never an elaborate affair in the Peabodyhousehold, and Betty insisted on helping Mrs. Peabody to-day, since shecould not induce her to go away from the kitchen and lie down. The menhad said they were going to stay in town till milking time, and onlyMr. and Mrs. Peabody and Betty sat down to the sorry repast at oneo'clock. There was little conversation, and Mr. Peabody was the onlyone who made a pretense of eating what was served.

  "Now you go upstairs, and let me do the dishes," said Betty to Mrs.Peabody, as her husband put on his hat and went out at the conclusionof the meal. "If you'll undress and go to bed, I'll get supper and feedthe chickens. You look so fagged out."

  "It's the heat," sighed Mrs. Peabody. "Land, child, I've crawledthrough a sight of summers, and won't give out awhile yet, I guess.You're the one to watch out. Keep in out of the sun, and don't run yourfeet off waiting on Bob. I'll show you something, though, if you won'tlet on."

  She beckoned Betty to one corner of the kitchen where a fly-speckedcalendar hung.

  "Look here," said Mrs. Peabody. "Nobody knows what these pencil marksmean but me--I made 'em. Now's the second week in July--there'sseventeen days of July left. Thirty-one days in August. And mostgenerally you can count on the first week of September being hot--thatmakes fifty-five days. Three meals a day to get, or one hundred andsixty-five meals in all."

  "Then what?" asked the hypnotized Betty.

  "Oh, then it begins to get a little cooler," said Mrs. Peabodylistlessly. "I've counted this way for three summers now. Somehow itmakes the summer go faster if you can see the days marked off and knowso many meals are behind you."

  Inexperienced as Betty was, it seemed infinitely pathetic to her thatany one should long for the summer days to be over, and she realizeddimly that the loneliness and dullness of her hostess' daily life mustbe beginning to prey on her mind. She helped dry the dishes, wentupstairs with Mrs. Peabody and bathed her forehead with cologne andclosed the shutters of her room for her. Then, hoping she might sleepfor a few hours as she resolutely refused to give up for the rest ofthe day, Betty hurried to put on her thinnest white frock and wentback to the orchard. She found her patient awake and decidedly feelingaggrieved.

  "I've been awake for ages," he greeted her. "Gee, isn't it hot! Youlook kind of pippin' too. Do you know, I've been thinking about thatriding habit of yours, Betty. What are you going to do with it?"

  "Keep it till I go somewhere else where there'll be a chance to learnto ride," answered Betty. "Why?"

  "Oh, I was just thinking," and Bob turned over on his back to stare upthrough the branches. "You'll get away from here sooner than I shall,Betty. But, believe me, the first chance I get I'm going to streak out.Peabody's got no claim on me, and I've worked out all the food andclothes he's ever given me. The county won't care--they've got morekids to look after now than they can manage, and one missing won'tcreate any uproar. I'd like to try to walk from here to the West. Theysay my mother had people out there somewhere."

  "Tell me about her," urged Betty impulsively. "Do you remember her,Bob?"

  "She died the night I was born," said Bob quietly. "My father waskilled in a railroad wreck they figured out. You see my mother was alittle out of her head with grief and shock when they found her walkingalong the road, singing to herself. All she had was the clothes on herback and a little black tin box with her marriage certificate in it andsome papers that no one rightly could understand. They sent her to thealms-house, and a month later I was born. The old woman who nursed hersaid her mind was perfectly clear the few hours she lived after that,and she said that 'David,' my father, had been bringing her East to ahospital when their train was wrecked. She couldn't remember the datenor tell how long before it had happened, and after s
he died no one wasinterested enough to trace things up. I was brought up in the baby wardand went to school along with the others. Many is the boy I've punchedfor calling me 'Pauper!' And then, when I was ten, Peabody came overand said he wanted a boy to help him on his farm; I could go to schoolin the winters, and he'd see that I had clothes and everything Ineeded. I've never been to school a day since, and about all I needed,according to him, was lickings. But if I ever get away from here I meanto find out a few things for myself."

  Bob paused for breath. His fever made him talkative, and Betty hadnever known him so communicative.

  "Where is the tin box?" she asked with interest.

  "Buried, in the garden. I had sense enough to do that the first night Icame to Bramble Farm, and I've never dared dig it up since. Afraid oldPeabody might catch me. It's safer to leave it alone."

  Presently Bob went off to sleep again and Betty mused silently till hewoke, hungry, and then she gave him bouillon cubes dissolved in hotwater, for Mrs. Peabody was getting supper and Bob refused to go to thetable. The men came back and did the milking, grumbling a little, buton the whole willing to save Bob's finger. They had a rough fondnessfor the lad.

  When the heavy dew began to fall Betty had to appeal to Leison to makeBob go into the house. He declared fretfully that the attic was hot,and Betty knew it was like an oven, but it was out of the question forhim to lie in the damp grass. She dressed his finger freshly for him,Mrs. Peabody looking on, but offering not a word, either of pity orcuriosity. Betty wondered if she had grown into the habit of keepingstill till now it was impossible for her to voice an emotion.

  Bob's finger dressed, Lieson bore him upstairs despite his protests,and before the others went up to their rooms, Betty had thesatisfaction of hearing that Bob had already gone to sleep.

  Betty herself was extremely tired, for she had worked hard all day,waiting on Bob and trying to save Mrs. Peabody in many ways. Shebrushed out her thick hair and slipped into her nightgown, thankfulfor the prospect of rest even the hardest of beds offered her. She wasasleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.

  She had been asleep only a few minutes, or so it seemed, when somethingwoke her.

  She sat up in bed, startled. Had some one groaned?