“Okay with me,” said Bob heartily. “Boy, you don’t know how it feels to have you say that. I can’t ever thank—”
“Cut it out, pard!” said Alan huskily. “Here, have some more lemonade.”
They had a merry time and ate up every scrap of sandwich and every crumb of cake, drinking the lemonade to the last drop. Then suddenly Bob Lincoln sprang up.
“I must go!” he declared, looking at his watch. “It’s awfully late, and I’ve got a lot of work cut out for me tomorrow. First I’ve got to hand in my resignation to the Rockland Canning Factory, which same I shall enjoy doing; and then I’ve got to get all that junk in that list together and pack. There’s a few things in that list I don’t believe I can compass, but I don’t reckon it matters. I’ve learned pretty much to get along without things lately anyhow,” and he laughed a careless little ripple, the kind he had been used to giving to cover his angry feelings.
Sherrill and Alan looked at him with sudden comprehension. This was the old Bob they had not liked. Had it been that he covered up his loneliness with this attitude and they had not understood him?
Then Alan spoke quickly. “Look here, old man,” he said, “you and I have got to have a good talk fest tonight. Suppose you come home with me for the night. Then we can get everything thrashed out. You know we’re partners. You’re taking my place, and it’s sort of up to me to see that you have everything in your outfit you need. Yes, that’s my part. Come on, old boy, let’s get down to brass tacks!”
Bob looked at Alan with sudden wonder.
“You’re great!” he said, with deep feeling in his voice. “What a fool I was! I used to think all that church going you did was just a pose. I called you a hypocrite once right in the school yard! And I believed you were. But now I see— Well, I can’t tell you how I feel about this. I’m not going to let you do anything more for me of course, but—it’s awfully decent and fine of you to talk that way.”
“Come along, pard!” said Alan laughing. “We’ll settle our differences in private. Come, we haven’t any time to waste.”
Alan gave him a push toward the door, but he paused before Sherrill.
“Good night, Sherrill,” Bob said earnestly. “You’ve given me an awfully nice evening, and I shall always remember it. I used to think you were a snob, but now I see you’re real. I can’t thank you enough for letting me in on this pleasant evening.”
Sherrill went to the door with them and called a happy good-night, watching them go down the walk, Alan’s arm flung across Bob’s shoulders as if they had been comrades for years.
Suddenly Alan turned and sprang back toward her.
“I’m carrying some of your property, Sherry.” He laughed, handing her a handkerchief. “You dropped this under the hammock when we came into the house, and I absentmindedly put it in my pocket.”
Their fingers touched as Sherrill took her handkerchief, and she heard Alan’s low whisper, “It was great of you to do that, Sherry. He thinks you’re wonderful, and I can’t thank you enough.”
“Oh, I was glad to have a part in it, Alan,” whispered Sherrill, “and say, Alan, I’ve been thinking. I shouldn’t wonder if, after all, this would turn out to be the chance of your lifetime. I think you’ve gone a long way toward saving Bob!”
He gave her fingers a squeeze and sprang back to Bob and they walked down the street, whistling together an old school song, a thing they never had done before.
“Who was that other boy, Sherrill?” asked her mother, looking up with pleasant curiosity in her face.
“That was Bob Lincoln, Mother.”
“What! Not the Lincoln boy that Alan dislikes so much? Not the boy that made so much trouble in school and was always doing wild things? Not the one that Alan fought with?”
“Yes, Mother,” laughed Sherrill. “The same boy, but you’d be surprised how nice he is, and how grateful he was for the sandwiches and cake. He hadn’t had much supper. You know his sister died not long ago, and he has to get his meals almost anywhere.”
“Well, but, my dear! How did he come to call on you? I’m sure he’s not the kind of boy you would want to have for a friend. I hope he isn’t going to start in now and bother you coming here. I’m sure your brother would not like it at all. Keith is very particular about you, you know.”
“Oh, he didn’t come to see me at all, Mother; he just ran in to speak to Alan a minute—on business—and we asked him in.”
“Well, but, my dear, it isn’t wise to get too intimate with a boy like that. He will think he can come here again. I’m surprised that Alan didn’t take him away at once. It’s all well enough to be kind, but I really couldn’t have you asking a boy like that here regularly. Sherrill, you never stop to think about things like that——”
“Listen, Mother dear. You needn’t worry about Bob. He is going to Egypt day after tomorrow, to be gone three years on an archaeological expedition with Professor Hodge. So, you see, there’s nothing to worry about at all. He came to ask Alan something, that was all, and we were just being kind to him. We found out he has been awfully lonely, and Mother, he was so pleased to have somebody a little friendly! You ought to have heard him. I felt so ashamed I didn’t know what to do.”
“Is that the red-haired Lincoln boy that used to drive by here in that old rattlely Ford?” asked Sherrill’s grandmother, looking up with sudden interest. “I always liked that boy’s looks. He reminded me of a cousin of mine that ran away and joined the navy. He came back a first-rate man, too. I always thought his aunt that brought him up never understood him. She fussed over him a lot.”
“Now, Mother!” said Sherrill’s mother with a tender smile. “You always were a romantic dear. Who would ever have thought you noticed a boy going by on the street?”
“Well, I did!” said Grandmother Sherrill. “And I’m glad you were nice to him, Sherrill. If he’s going to Egypt he can’t do you any harm, and anyway, I’ll bank on your good sense to take care of yourself anywhere.”
“Now, Mother! You’re spoiling Sherrill!” The mother smiled. “However did a boy like that get a chance to go on an expedition of that sort? That is a great honor. Professor Hodge must have approved of him or he never would have asked him.”
It was on Sherrill’s lips to tell about Alan, but remembering his request that she keep it to herself, she closed her mouth and turned away smiling. By and by, when it didn’t matter, she would tell Mother what a wonderful boy Alan MacFarland had been. She said good night and went singing up to her room.
“She’s a good girl, Mary,” said her grandmother.
“Yes, she is, Mother. I didn’t mean that about your spoiling her.”
“Humph!” said Grandmother, folding away her sewing and taking off her spectacles. “Yes, she’s a good girl, and that Alan MacFarland is a good boy. I’m glad they made that other boy have a good time. He never looked to me as if he was very happy.”
Over at the MacFarland house, the two boys entered quietly, Bob protesting that he ought not to go in lest it might disturb the invalid. They took off their shoes and went silently up the stairs, but not too silently so that Alan’s mother heard him and came out to the landing to smile at him and give him a good-night kiss. She wore a pretty blue robe, and her eyes were bright and more rested looking. Bob watched her in wonder, as she reassured her son about his father.
“He’s resting very well,” she whispered. “The doctor thinks he may have a better day tomorrow.”
Alan introduced his friend, and Mrs. MacFarland