Little Lost Sister Part 4

"O, what's the use. We need everything, we--" Mrs. Welcome broke down and began to weep softly as she turned toward the house.

"Now hold on, Mrs. Welcome, don't break away from me like that!" Harvey followed her and laid his hand gently on her arm. "I hope Mr. Welcome isn't drinking again. Is he?"

"I'm afraid so, Harvey." Mrs. Welcome's frail shoulders quivered as she attempted to restrain her sobs. "Why, Tom hasn't been home for two days and--and our rent is due--and--"

Harvey Spencer interrupted with a prolonged whistle which seemed to be the best way he could think of expressing sympathy. A light dawned on him.

"That's why young Harry Boland is here from Chicago, to collect the rent, eh?" he inquired.

Mrs. Welcome nodded a.s.sent, "Yes," she said, "Mr. Boland has been very kind. He has waited two weeks and--and--we can't pay him."

"Why not let me--" suggested Harvey, putting his hand into his pocket.

Mrs. Welcome checked him with a quick movement. "No, Harvey, please. I don't want you to do that," she said. "I wouldn't feel right about it somehow."

"Just as you say, Mrs. Welcome." Harvey was rather diffident and hesitated to press a loan on her. To change the subject he said: "Young Mr. Boland seems taken up with Patience."

"I hadn't noticed it," said Mrs. Welcome, drying her eyes.

"O, we detectives have to keep our eyes open," acclaimed Harvey with another burst of pride.

But here Michael Grogan interrupted. "Young man," he called out from the roadway, "are you really taking orders or is this one of your visiting days?" He tied the colt and came into the yard.

"h.e.l.lo," said Harvey, "getting tired of waiting?"

"Well, I felt myself growing to that hitching post," said Grogan, "so I tied that bunch of nerves you have out there and moved before I took root."

Harvey laughed and turned to Mrs. Welcome. "This is Mr. Michael Grogan, Mrs. Welcome," he said.

Mrs. Welcome backed away toward the porch, removing her ap.r.o.n. "Good afternoon, sir," she greeted him. "I hope you are well?"

"Well," said Grogan, "I was before this young marauder cajoled me into leaving me arm chair on the hotel veranda to go b.u.mping over these roads."

Mrs. Welcome smiled and extended her hand. "I'm very glad to know you, Mr. Grogan. You mustn't mind Harvey's impetuous ways. He's all right here." She placed her hand on her heart.

"I'll go bail he is that if you say so, Mrs. Welcome," replied Grogan gallantly, "anyhow I'll take him on your word."

"Just ready to go, Mr. Grogan, when you called," put in Harvey. Then he caught Mrs. Welcome by the arm and bustled her into the house, saying: "And I'll see that you get all of those things, Mrs. Welcome, flour, corn meal, tomatoes, beans, lard--" and in spite of her protestations he closed the door on her with a parting: "Everything on the first delivery tomorrow morning sure." Then he added to Grogan, who stood smiling with a look of comprehension on his face, "All right. Ready to go."

"It's about time," commented Grogan as they went toward the wagon. "Don't think I'm too inquisitive if I ask who are these Welcomes anyhow?"

"People who are having a tough time," replied Harvey, unhitching his colt. "Tom Welcome used to be quite a man. He had that invention I was telling you about, an electric lamp. He was done out of it and went to the booze for consolation."

"So," murmured Grogan, half to himself, "Two girls in the family, eh?"

"Yes, that was one of them you met just before we came here."

"The pretty one?"

"Yes, and they're the best ever," added Harvey, antagonized by something he sensed in his companion's manner.

Grogan turned to him smiling. "There," he said, "don't get hot about it.

n.o.body doubts that, meself least of all. Ain't I Irish? It's the first article of every Irishman's creed to believe that all women, old or young, pretty or otherwise, all of them are just--good."

Harvey seized the older man's hand and shook it vigorously. Then looking up the road he said:

"Here comes Elsie Welcome, I think. I want you to meet her."

"Ah," retorted Grogan. He turned and looked at Elsie closely. She ran rapidly down the pathway toward the gate. She saw them, paused, walked more slowly and came up to them apparently in confusion.

"Why, h.e.l.lo Harv! What are you doing here so late?" she asked. Without waiting for a reply she started toward the gate flinging back a short "Good night."

The girl's whole manner indicated a guilty conscience. It was evident that she did not wish to talk to Harvey Spencer. She pa.s.sed through the gate toward the door of her home.

CHAPTER IV

HARVEY MEETS "A DEALER IN CATTLE"

Harvey threw the reins into Grogan's lap and strode recklessly after Elsie. His good-natured face was flushed with anger.

"Say," he demanded, "what's the matter?"

The girl, unwilling, halted. "Nothing," she replied, "what makes you ask that?"

"Why," explained Harvey, hiding his anger and attempting to take her hand, "you're out of breath."

"Been running," was the girl's laconic explanation.

"You don't usually run home from the mill, Elsie," Harvey's detective instinct was showing itself.

Elsie was extremely irritated by this unwished for interview.

"Well, I--" she stammered, "I wanted to get here because it's Monday and mother's washing day and--" She paused, her irritation getting the better of her. "I don't see what right you have to question me, Harvey Spencer."

Grogan had got down from the wagon and at this moment came through the gate.

"Young man," he began, addressing Spencer. The girl interrupted him.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Do you come from the mill?"

"I come from no mill," retorted Grogan, piqued by the girl's tone, "and if you'll excuse me I don't want to."

"This is Mr. Michael Grogan of Chicago," put in Harvey placatingly. "I've been showing him the town."

"And," added Grogan quickly, "I haven't seen much."