Janice Day Part 29

CHAPTER XX

THE TROUBLE WITH NELSON HALEY

From that time on Janice refused longer to be in what she called "the dumps." It was not her way to mope about; usually she cheered other people and did not herself stand in need of cheering.

She made the operator go home to his family to spend Christmas afternoon. When his call came Marty was to run over after him. This kept the trio of friends from Poketown close to the railroad station all the afternoon; but the interval was spent quite pleasantly.

Mrs. Maltby and her daughter came over, through the snow, to visit a while with Janice--and to bring Marty the pie!--and several other villagers dropped in. News of Janice's reason for being at Popham Landing had been spread abroad, and the people who came were more than curious--they were sympathetic.

The pastor of one of the churches, who was well acquainted with Mr.

Middler, left his own family for half an hour and came to the station to ask if he could do anything of practical use for Janice. Had it been wise the trio from Poketown could have accepted half a dozen invitations for supper and evening entertainment.

"People _are_ so good!" Janice cried again to Haley and Marty. "I never realized that mere strangers could be so very, very nice to one."

"Huh!" grunted Marty. "Ain't _you_ always nice to folks--an' doing something for 'em? How do you like it yourself?" which remark made Janice and Nelson Haley laugh very heartily.

So, after all, it _was_ a real Christmas, as Janice said. It was an odd one, perhaps, but there were some very enjoyable things about it. For instance, Janice and the young school-teacher got far better acquainted than they had ever been before--and Janice had always liked Nelson Haley.

In this present situation, Nelson stood out well. He was generous, sympathetic, and helpful. The fact that he was inclined to pursue the way of least resistance, and considered it right to "let well enough alone," did not impress one so deeply at the present moment.

Janice learned that the young man had neither father nor mother, and that his nearest relative was an old aunt who had supplied the money for his college tuition--at least, such money as he had not been able to earn himself. Nelson Haley, however, desired to be self-supporting, and he felt that he had accepted all the a.s.sistance he should from the old aunt, whose patrimony was not large.

"Old Aunty Peckham is just as good as she can be," he confided to Janice; "but I realize now--have realized for some years, in fact--that if she had not had me to worry about, she could have enjoyed many more good things in life than she has. So I told her I'd come to the end of accepting money from her whenever my own purse got low.

"I'll teach school in Poketown a couple of years and save enough to take up law; or perhaps I'll get a chance in some small college. Only, to teach in a real college means _work_," and he laughed.

"But--but don't you like to work?" queried Janice, doubtfully.

"Now, Janice! who really _likes_ work?" demanded the young man, lightly.

"If we can get through the world without much effort, why not take it easily?"

"That is not _my_ idea of what we are put in the world for--just to drift along with the current."

"Oh, dear, me! what a very strenuous person you are," said the young man, still teasingly. "And--I am afraid--you'd be a most uncomfortable person to have around all the time. Though that doesn't sound gallant, I admit."

Janice laughed. "I tell you what it is," she observed, not at all shaken by the young man's remark, "I shouldn't want to feel that there wasn't something in life to get by going after it."

"'By going after it?'" repeated the young man, in some puzzlement.

"Yes. You say I'd be an uncomfortable comrade. And I expect you're right. Especially for a downright _lazy_ person."

"Oh, oh!" he cried. "That was a hard hit."

"You're not really lazy, you know," she pursued, coolly. "You only haven't been 'woke up' yet."

"I believe that's worse than your former statement," he cried, rather ruefully now. "I suppose I _do_ drift with the current."

"Well!"

"What kind of a fellow do you expect to marry, Janice?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Why, I'll tell you," said the girl, practically and without a shadow of false modesty. "I expect a man to prove himself good for something in the world before he even _asks_ me to marry him."

"Goodness me! he must be a millionaire, or president, or something like that?" chuckled Nelson.

"Nothing at all so great," she returned, with some heat. "I don't care if he's right down _poor_, if only he has been successful in accomplishing some really hard thing--something that shows the metal he's made of. No namby-pamby young man for me. No, sir! They can keep away," and Janice ended her rather serious speech with a laugh and a toss of her head.

"I shall bear your strictures in mind, Miss Day," declared Haley, with mock gravity. "I see very plainly what you mean. The young St. George who wears your colors must have slain his dragon."

"At least," Janice returned, softly, "he must have shown his willingness to kill the horrid thing."

The short winter day was already drawing to a close when the telegraph sounder began to call the station. Marty ran out at once and brought back the operator. He was quickly in communication with one of the great New York papers and found that it was over the paper's private wire that first authentic news from the Granadas district had arrived in the East.

The posse from Cida had found everything peaceful about the mines. The guerrilla leader, Raphele, had decamped. There had been an execution on the day John Makepiece had fled from the place; but the victims were some unfortunate Indians. The bandit had not dared kill the remaining American prisoner.

Mr. Broxton Day had managed to get into a shaft of the mine and there had lain hidden until Raphele, and his gang, had departed. Now he had gathered some of his old employees, and armed them with rifles hidden all these months in the mine, and the property was once more under Mr.

Day's control and properly guarded.

Through the posse, Mr. Day made a statement to the newspapers, and to his friends and fellow-stockholders of the mine, in the States. To Janice, too, he sent a brief message of love and good cheer, stating that letters to her were already in the mail.

The relief Janice felt is not to be easily shown. To be positive, after these hours of uncertainty--and after the long weeks of worriment that had gone before--that dear Daddy was really alive and well, seemed too good to be true.

"Oh, do you suppose it _can_ be so?" she cried, again and again, clinging to Nelson Haley's arm.

"Of course it is! Pluck up your courage, Janice," he a.s.sured her, while Marty sniveled:

"Aw, say, Janice! Doncher give way, now. Uncle Brocky is all right an'

it would be dead foolish ter cry over it, when you kep' up your pluck so, before."

"Well! to please you both!" choked Janice, trying to swallow the sobs.

"But--but----Come on! let's go home. Just think how worried Aunt 'Mira will be."

So they shook hands with the telegraph operator and Janice thanked him heartily. There were several other friendly folk of the neighborhood in the waiting-room when the three friends came out of the office, and the happy girl thanked them, too, for their sympathy.

It was quite dark when they got out into the cold again. The wind had shifted a point or two since morning, but it was still in their favor.

Although the sun had set, the way up the lake was clearly defined. The stars began to twinkle, and after the _Fly-by-Night_ was gotten under way the course seemed plain enough before them.

Now Janice enjoyed the sail. She was no longer afraid, and her heart beat happily. The ice boat made good its name on the trip to Poketown, and Nelson Haley brought the craft to land beside the steamboat dock in season for a late supper.

There was a crowd down at the lake's edge to see them come in. News of their trip to the Landing, and the reason for it, had been well circulated about town; and when Marty shouted to some of his boy friends that "Uncle Brocky was found--and he warn't dead, neither!" the crowd started to cheer.

The cheers were for Janice--and she realized it. The folks were glad of her father's safety because they loved her.

"People are so kind to me--they are so kind to me!" she cried again, and then she _did_ burst into tears, much to Marty's disgust.