The Mission of Janice Day Part 21

Janice felt somewhat abashed at this claim. She enjoyed the black-eyed woman's conversation; but she was not strongly drawn toward her. If they were such "goot friends" the feeling of friends.h.i.+p must be mostly on Madam's side.

For it was as "Madam" that Janice knew the woman. It seemed to fit, and she seemed to expect its use. She was a very interesting person, the girl thought, and naturally she was curious about the black-eyed woman.

There was an hour's wait at Chicago, and when Janice and her acquaintance left the train together it was to enter a dense throng in the train-shed.

"Be careful, my dear," whispered Janice's companion warningly. "Keep your coat b.u.t.toned across your chest. No knowing--pickpockets always in big crowds are--yes."

Janice was inclined to smile; but as her companion walked closely upon one side of her she felt herself being shouldered roughly on the other hand.

She turned sharply and with an exclamation. Her coat was torn open by some means. Janice wore a loose-fitting blouse and it was not easy to be certain that a hand was at her bosom.

"Look! that boy!" hissed Madam in the girl's ear. "Such a shrewd-faced rascal. Ach! I believe he tried to rob you."

Janice, clutching quickly at her blouse over the packet of banknotes, knew her money was safe. She only saw the back of the boy to whom Madam referred.

"Why!" Janice Day murmured. "He isn't a bit bigger than Marty. Do--do you really think he tried to rob me, Madam?"

"Sure of it!" announced her companion with emphasis. "Ach, yes! We know so little about those we meet in a crowd, my dear."

CHAPTER XV

A SHOCK TO POLKTOWN

Marty Day, who was neither a prophet nor a person of much moment in his native town, was, of all Janice's friends, the only one who really believed the girl would put her desire into action.

To tell the truth, even Cross Moore, who had bought Janice's automobile and who held the original bill of sale of the car, upon the possession of which he had insisted, scarcely believed the girl would get out of town without being halted by her uncle.

Nelson Haley did not suppose for a "single solitary moment" that Janice meant what she said when she bade him good-bye in his study. The next day he went to school without an idea that Janice was already on her way to the Border. He missed Marty Day, but did not think there was anything significant in the boy's absence.

School was over for the day and Nelson was leaving the building, bidding good-day to Bennie Thread, the janitor, when Walky Dexter drove through the side street, urging Josephus in a most disgraceful way.

"Git up, there, ye pernicious pest!" Walky shouted to his old horse, thras.h.i.+ng him with the wornout whip he carried and which never, by any possibility, could hurt the rawboned animal. "_Gidap!_ Jefers-pelters, Schoolmaster! is thet you?" he suddenly demanded, seeing Nelson.

Josephus stopped immediately. He well knew Walky's conversational tone.

"Hev ye heard about it?" sputtered the expressman.

"Heard what?" asked Nelson calmly. "Sure you are not overexerting yourself? Your face is very red, Walky. Perspiration at this time of year----"

"Oh, you go fis.h.!.+" exclaimed Walky. "Mr. Haley! I got suthin' ter tell ye. I kin see well enough ye ain't wise to it."

"Walky," said the young schoolmaster solemnly, "there are really a lot of things in this life that I am not wise to, as you call it, and I doubt if I shall ever understand them all."

"Oh! is that so?" retorted Walky Dexter. "Wal, I'll perceed ter wise ye up to one thing right now. Ain't ye missed Marty to-day?"

"Marty Day?"

"Yep. That's the young scalawag."

"He has been absent from school--yes."

"Oh! he has? D'ye know where he's gone to?"

"Why, no."

"And neither does n.o.body else," declared the expressman excitedly.

"Unless he's gone off with Janice--an' she never said a thing about _him_, I understand."

The expressman's word's amazed Nelson quite as much as Walky could have wished.

"What _are_ you talking about? What do you mean by saying Janice has gone away?"

"Jefers-pelters!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Walky. "Ain't you hearn a thing about it?"

"No."

"Wal then, you better lift a laig an' git up to the ol' Day house,"

Walky observed. "If ye ever seen a stir-about ye'll see one there. I dunno but ol' Jase'll hev a fit an' step in it. And as for Miz' Day, she's jest erbout dissolved in tears by now, as the feller said. An', believe me! if she _does_ dissolve there'll purt' nigh be a deluge on this hillside, an' no mistake!"

Before he had finished and clucked to the sleeping Josephus, Nelson Haley had reached the corner of Hillside Avenue and was striding up the ascent to the Day house. He saw several people come to their front doors, and he knew they would have hailed him had he given them a chance. Everybody seemed to be aware of this startling happening but himself.

He went into the kitchen of the Day house without knocking. His gaze fell upon the ample Mrs. Day weaving to and fro in her rocking chair, her ap.r.o.n to her eyes, while Uncle Jason was sitting dejectedly in his chair upon the other side of the stove, with his dead pipe clutched fast between his teeth.

"Mr. Haley!" the man exclaimed. "Have a cheer."

"Oh! oh!" sobbed Aunt 'Mira, shaking like a mold of jelly.

"I don't want a chair!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Nelson, placing his bag on the uncleared dining table. "I've just heard of it. What does it mean?"

"She's gone," Uncle Jason said gloomily.

"_They've_ gone," sobbed Aunt 'Mira.

"We dunno _that_--not for sure. We don't know they're gone together.

Janice didn't say a thing about Marty in her letter," and he pointed to an open letter on the table. "Read it, Mr. Haley," he added.

The schoolmaster seized the note Janice had left on her pin-cus.h.i.+on and read:

"=Dear Uncle and Aunt=:

"You must not blame me or think too hard of me. I have just _got_ to go. Daddy needs me. I am sure I can find him. I could not stay idly in Polktown and wait any longer. I will telegraph you when I reach the Border. Don't blame me. _I just have to go!_ Love.

=Janice=."

"I might have known it! I might have known it!" muttered the schoolmaster.