“Not for sale, I’m afraid,” sighed Mrs. Steele, shaking her head. “We’ve gone over that whole block. The owners are all living in their homes, it seems, and one can’t just go and ring a doorbell and ask people if they won’t get out and sell you their home. Besides, one would have to pay more that way, and we can’t really pay much for the property, because that would take away too much from the auditorium building. The gift was”she lowered her voice and mentioned the sum given under her breath so that Thurlow couldn’t be sure of the exact sum, but he distinctly heard the next sentence“so that we could scarcely afford to pay more than twelve or fourteen thousand for the lot and whatever buildings it contained. We really ought not to pay more than twelve, of course, but we might stretch a point if it was in the right location. In fact, I think we would have given more for that Lockwood place if we could have gotten it. Its location is so central and so desirable.”
Thurlow sat there fairly weak with astonishment and fearsome delight. Was he in a dream, or was he hearing aright? The Lockwood place was just next door to their own. In many ways it was not as desirable as the Reed house. Could it be possible that a miracle like this had happened right at his side just when he was in despair?
And what should he do about it? Lean forward and snap it up at once? They were almost at the station now where he should get off. He did not know where this Mrs. Steele lived, though he could probably find out. But would it be wiser to wait till evening and go to her home? No. She might be going away somewhere or be having a dinner party. There might be a delay, and every minute now counted so desperately. Yet something fine and wise in him told him that in a matter of such great importance he must not act in a hasty, childish frenzy. He must go about it in a businesslike way. And it would not do to let her know he had overheard her conversation. It would prejudice her against him at once and might spoil the whole thing. He tried to be calm, to close his eyes and think. He remembered the figures he had heard the lady quote. It would not do to let her know that he knew what she was willing to pay. No, he must wait; even in his desperation he must be calm and take every step cautiously. He must try to follow her if possible, at least to see in which direction she went. Would she be the Mrs. George Steele of whom there was so much talk, the woman who was so philanthropic? Surely he had heard his mother speak of her.
Then, as if in answer to his thought, the lady spoke again.
“I am expecting the car to meet me at the station. Couldn’t I drop you somewhere on the way? I’m sorry I can’t take time to run in and see those etchings at Hatch’s you spoke of, but I promised George I’d be home early tonight. He has to leave on the six o’clock train for Chicago, and he’s as helpless as a child about getting his things together to pack. He likes me to do that for him, instead of a servant, so I like to humor him.”
She smiled at her friend as they rose and gathered up their belongings and the train drew to a full stop.
Thurlow had turned away, looking out the opposite window. Just as well she should not see his face and recognize him as one who might have overheard her talk. The two ladies drifted past him out the door without looking in his direction, and he came more slowly behind them, keeping them in sight without being seen himself, until they disappeared into a handsome limousine that stood waiting. Then he hurried into the drugstore and looked up Mr. George Steele’s address in the directory. Of course the telephone book might have given it, but so many of those rich people were listed privately that one couldn’t be sure of finding everybody there.
Having written the address down carefully, Thurlow went whistling home and entered the house with a happier look on his face than he had worn in many a day.
“You’ve had some good news!” cried his sister joyously.
He looked at her, sobering down.
“No, not exactly,” he said with a quick little sigh. “It might not turn out to be anything. I just had a hunch.”
“Oh,” said Rilla despondently. “Didn’t anything come of that post office affair?”
“Not a thing!” he said emphatically. “But don’t give up yet, Rill, we still have four days ahead.”
“What’s four days! Just like the four days that preceded. Wait and hope and find nothing. I’m going to get a job.”
“Hop to it, little sister. But don’t give up hope. You know jobs aren’t easy to get either!”
“I know!” Rilla sat down on the hall settee and sighed. “What are we going to do?”
“Something,” said her brother as he went up the stairs two steps at a time. “We still have four days.”
“And tomorrow there will be only three days.”
“Exactly so,” laughed her brother, swinging into his room and kicking off his worn shoes that with plenty of polishing would carry him through a few interviews without shame. It seemed strange that he should have reached a place where a thing like that was something for which to be profoundly thankful.
Thurlow dressed with haste but as carefully as his wardrobe permitted and hurried downstairs.
“Don’t wait dinner for me, Mother,” he said to the anxious mother who was concocting an appetizing dinner at the least expense possible.
“Oh, Thurlow,” she said, dismayed. “You’ll get sick before this is over. I just know you will. Can’t you wait till I get dinner on the table? It won’t be half an hour.”
“I can’t wait five minutes, little Mother,” he said, stooping to kiss her tenderly. “I’ve got a lead, and I’ve got to follow it while the trail is hot. It may lead to nothing, but it’s my last chance as far as I can see. I’ll get back as soon as I can, but I can’t stop now. It’s now or never!”
“Then you must drink a glass of milk,” pleaded the mother.
He poured the milk down in one breath, accepted a couple of sugar cookies from the plate she handed out, and was gone.
“Oh dear!” sighed his mother. “To think he has to be hurrying around wildly this way for nothing. Just nothing! What would his father say, after all his careful planning for you both! It’s heartbreaking!”
“He thinks he has something,” said the sister listlessly, “but he might as well give up and try to hunt a job.”
“I’m afraid it will be just the same when he comes to hunting a job,” said the mother, and the slow tears stole quietly down her cheeks.
“Now, Mother, don’t you give up, too,” said the girl with stormy eyes and set lips, rising and going to look out of the window to hide the sudden tears that blurred her own eyes.
There was unhappy silence in the room for several seconds, and then the mother answered in a tone of forced cheerfulness, “No, of course not. I had no thought of giving up. We’re going to come through all right. I have no doubt that Thurlow will succeed in something soon, and we shall find everything settling into sane living again. We’ve got to keep brave and cheerful.”
“Of course!” said Rilla peppily, but she stood a long time staring out into the evening twilight, her lips set in that firm determination that showed she was thinking something through to a finish. Her mother watched her furtively and thought how much she looked like her father, and presently she got up and went to the old desk where a lot of important papers were kept. There were things there that she had meant to look over when she could bring herself to doing it, not very important things, but still she had to do it sometime, and this was as good a time as any, since they would, of course, delay dinner for a while, hoping Thurlow would return to share it with them. She had shrank long from going over these papers. They reminded her so of the husband and father who was gone that she could hardly bear to handle them, but perhaps it was as well to get through with it. A lot of them must be destroyed. The house, of course, was not going to be theirs any longer, no matter what happened, and she ought to get her things in order.
So