The Lucky Seventh Part 12

"Of course, only--" Gordon heaved a sigh of relief-"I was afraid he was dying. He-he looked so awfully!"

"Yes, didn't he?" Louise shuddered. "He is still unconscious, but Doctor Mayrick says he will get his senses back in a little while. He must have had an awful blow on his head. Would you mind telling me just how it happened, Gordon, or are you too tired?"

He recounted the incidents of the unfortunate ride rather uncertainly.

Somehow, they had got pretty much mixed up by now.

"But I think you were splendid," said the girl warmly. "To think of stopping the trolley car was fine, Gordon. You must have been dreadfully scared and-and everything. And wasn't it a wonder you weren't hurt too?"

"Yes, I suppose so. I guess it would have been better if Morris had been thrown out of the car too. It was the steering wheel that kept him in, I think."

"I don't see how you ever thought of lifting the car up with the-that thing you spoke of," she said admiringly. "Goodness, I'd have been so frightened I'd have just cried!"

"I guess I'd better be going home," said Gordon.

"Yes, it must be quite late. And you haven't had any supper, have you? I wish I'd found you here before."

"I don't believe I want any," he murmured. "I-I'm mighty glad he isn't hurt any worse. I'll come around to-morrow if you don't mind and see how he is."

"Please do. Mama will want to see you, Gordon."

"I suppose your father is pretty angry, isn't he?" asked Gordon.

"He's too upset and anxious now to be angry," replied Louise. "But I suppose he will have something to say to Morris later. I felt all the time that he shouldn't run that car. It was horrid of him to get it without letting anyone know."

"I guess he's got his punishment," replied Gordon grimly. "A broken leg will keep him laid up a long time. I'm awfully sorry for him.

Good-night, Louise."

It seemed a terribly long distance to his home, although it was in reality but two blocks. His father was on the porch, reading under the electric light, when Gordon reached the steps. Down went the paper and Mr. Merrick viewed his son with cold severity.

"Well, Gordon, where have you been?" he asked.

"Over to the Point, sir. I-we--"

"I think I have told you fairly often that I do not like you to be late for your meals?"

"Yes, sir," a.s.sented Gordon wearily.

"Exactly. It is now-hm-nearly eight o'clock. I think you had better go up to your room. You don't deserve supper at this hour. And-hm-after this kindly give a little consideration to my wishes."

"Yes, sir." Gordon wanted to tell him what had happened, but he was frightfully tired and the thought of getting upstairs and into his bed was very alluring. Mr. Merrick showed that the conversation was at an end by again hiding his face behind the newspaper and Gordon went indoors and quietly climbed the stairs, rather hoping that his mother would not hear him. But she did, and came out of her room with the secrecy of a conspirator.

"Gordon, dear," she whispered, "your father was very angry and said you were to have no supper, but I put a little something on a plate for you.

It's on your bureau. You shouldn't stay out like this, though, dear.

Your father doesn't like it and-and it makes me worried, too."

"Yes'm, I won't again," replied Gordon. "I-I'm not very hungry, though.

I'm going to bed."

"Aren't you-don't you feel well?" inquired Mrs. Merrick anxiously.

"Yes'm, I'm all right. I just feel sort of tired. Good-night." He kissed her and went on up the second flight. Half-way up, though, he paused and called down in a hoa.r.s.e whisper: "Thanks for the eats, ma!"

In spite of his weariness, sleep didn't come readily. It was a hot, still night and, although his bed was drawn close to the two windows that looked out into the upper branches of the big elm, not much air penetrated to his room. He lay for a while staring out at the motionless leaves, intensely black in shadow and vividly green where the light from the big arc on the corner illumined them, reviewing the incidents of the day. He was awfully glad that Morris wasn't dangerously hurt, grateful for his own escape from injury and sorry that Morris would have to lie abed for many weeks while his broken leg knit together again. Finally he dozed off only to awake in a terror, imagining that he was riding in an automobile that was just about to plunge down a cliff so steep and deep that the bottom was miles away! He awoke shaking and muttering and it took him several seconds to rea.s.sure himself and throw off the effects of the nightmare. After that he tossed and turned until he remembered the plate on the bureau. He got up and brought it back to bed with him, and leaned on one elbow and ate a little of the cold chicken and bread-and-b.u.t.ter his mother had placed on it. But he wasn't really hungry and his appet.i.te was soon satisfied. He put the plate on the floor beside him and settled down again. A clock downstairs struck nine and a moment later the town hall clock sounded the hour sonorously. Then the telephone in the first floor hall rang sharply and he heard his father's chair sc.r.a.pe on the porch and his father's feet across the hall.

"h.e.l.lo? Yes.... No.... What say?..."

Gordon must have dozed then, for the next thing he knew someone was pushing open his bedroom door cautiously and asking if he was awake.

"Yes, sir," answered Gordon.

Mr. Merrick closed the door and came over to the bed. "Time you were asleep, son," he said concernedly. "Having trouble?"

"I-I've been asleep once, sir. Something wakened me."

"Hm. Er-I was just talking to Mr. Brent on the telephone, Gordon."

"Yes, sir?"

"Hm. He told me about the accident, son."

"Yes, sir. Did he say how Morris was?"

"Doing very well, he said. Why didn't you-hm-why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I don't know, sir. I was sort of tired, and--"

"Brent says you carried Morris almost half a mile to the trolley, Gordon."

"It wasn't nearly that far. And I didn't carry him. He was too heavy.

I-I pulled him."

"Well, the doctor says it's a lucky thing you got him home as quick as you did. Mr. Brent is-hm-very grateful. He's going to stop in the morning and see you."

"He needn't be," murmured Gordon. "It wasn't anything."

"Hm. You can tell me about it in the morning. I-hm-I'm sorry I was so short with you, son. If you'd explained--"

"Yes, sir, I ought to have. It-it's all right, dad."

"Well, but-if you're hungry, Gordon--"

"I'm not, sir. I-no, sir, I'm not."

"If you are I guess you and I can forage around and find something. Sure you wouldn't like a little bite?"

"No, sir, thank you."

"Well-hm--" Mr. Merrick laid a hand on Gordon's arm and pressed it.

"Sorry I scolded, son. I-we-we're proud of you, boy."