CHAPTER X.
DRIVEN FROM HOME
Deb looked at Mr. Benton in horror. It was only after several secondsthat she fully realized the terrible accusation which he had broughtagainst her.
"A plot!" she faltered. "What do you mean?"
"Only this," continued Mr. Benton, "your brother has run away to escapetrial, and he has taken the model with him. You have helped him to dothis. But it won't work. I pay my way, and a bargain's a bargain. IfI have to pay the thousand dollars, I'll have the model or I'll know thereason why."
"But how do you know Jack has run away?"
"If he hasn't, where is he?"
"He went to a job in the country yesterday morning and hasn't returnedyet."
"And you expect me to believe that story?" sneered the speculator.
"It's the truth," replied Deb, bursting into tears. "I'm sure Jack willcome back. The model was stolen by a man who said my brother had senthim for it."
"And are you positive that your brother did not send him for it?"
"Almost, sir, because the man ran away with it when I promised to sendit by some one else."
"Humph! Well, we'll see; I'll let the matter rest until to-morrow, andthen we'll have a settlement."
With these words Mr. Benton pulled his hat more tightly than usual overhis small, round head, and tripped down the stairs and out of thebuilding.
Deb's heart sank like a clod. Her last hope was gone. She had countedon getting help from the speculator, and the result had been directlythe opposite.
"Rec'on you won't get anything out of him," was the constable's grimcomment. He had listened in silence to the brief interview, and nowarose to continue his disagreeable but necessary duty.
"Isn't there any way at all of having this thing stopped?" asked thegirl, bitterly.
"No; unless you get the money," was the man's reply, and pulling off hiscoat, he took up a couple of chairs, and marched down stairs.
Deb jumped up and followed him. Her heart beat wildly, and something inher throat nearly choked her. What could she do? Her thoughts ran toMrs. Snitzer. She knew the kind German woman needed money as much asany of the tool works people did, but perhaps she could give some help,or offer some advice.
She flew to the door of her neighbor's apartments, and knocked eagerly.No answer came, and then she knocked more loudly than ever.
Suddenly she remembered that Mrs. Snitzer had signified her intention oftaking her whole family to her brother's farm for a few days, andpossibly until the end of the shut-down.
"It's no use, they're all gone!" she sighed. "There is no help to behad!"
Meanwhile the constable worked rapidly. In his time he had been insituations where the neighbors had interfered with him, and he wished toget away as soon as possible.
Soon there was quite a respectable stock of furniture and otherhousehold effects piled upon the sidewalk. Deb packed up the smallerstuff as fast as she could--the china and crockery in baskets, and theclothing and linen in the two old family trunks. Truth to admit, theconstable did not hurry her a bit more than he could help.
Presently Deb went below to see that no one should walk away with someof their belongings. Her eyes were red and swollen, and a more wretchedgirl could not have been found in all Corney.
As she sat down on one of the upturned wash tubs she wondered what shewas to do. She had no neighbors, and with the exception of the Snitzersthey were all strangers to her--they on their part deeming her "stuckup," and perhaps rejoicing to see her placed in her present humiliatingposition.
The wild hope of Jack's return came constantly to her mind, and twiceshe ran down to the corner vainly straining her eyes to catch sight ofhis well-known form.
"If I had only accepted Mont's aid," she thought, "I wonder where Icould find him?"
Presently the constable brought down the very last of the goods, andlocking up the rooms, went away.
"Why, Deb, I declare, I didn't know you were going to move. You didn'tsay anything of it last Sunday. How lucky I came before you were gone!or, perhaps, how unlucky to come when you are all upside down. Nevermind, go right ahead, and don't pay any attention to me. It's an awfuljob, isn't it? I haven't experienced moving in ten years, but Iremember well that I didn't get straightened out for two months, andthen it took twice that long to get accustomed to the new place. Wheredid you say you were moving to?"
And having thus delivered herself in one breath, the speaker, amiddle-aged lady, who wore blue glasses, and was slightly deaf, tookDeb's hand in a quick, nervous grasp, and peered into the care-wornface.
"Oh, Miss Parks, we are not moving at all!" cried out the girl, layingher head on her Sunday-school teacher's shoulder.
"Glad I called?" queried Miss Parks, misunderstanding her. "Well, now,seeing things as they are, I didn't expect it. But, maybe I can helpyou. I'm not overdressed, so just tell me what to do, and I'll go rightto work. Hasn't the truck-man come yet?"
"We--are--not--moving," repeated Deb, putting her mouth close to MissParks's ear.
"No? Why--why--then something dreadful has happened, all your furnitureout here on the sidewalk, with the dust a-blowing on 'em. What isit--fire? That's a dreadful thing. Even if things are not burned up,the smoke gets in 'em, and you can't get it out."
"It isn't fire," returned the unhappy girl, "it's because we can't paythe rent."
"Oh, dear!" Miss Parks was all sympathy at once. "I thought yourbrother was doing pretty well now," she added.
"So he was. But the tool works have shut down, and we can't get a centfrom the bank."
The elderly maiden caught at the words.
"The bank! Isn't it awful. They wouldn't give me mine, yesterday, andI wanted it the worst way, too. But tell me about your trouble."
In a few words, spoken as plainly as possible, Deb poured her tale intothe lady's ear.
"I heard about your brother being arrested for the fire," remarked MissParks. "But I didn't believe it. Mr. Long says Jack is such a goodfellow, and such an excellent scholar."
"I'm glad you think so," burst out the girl. "Oh, Miss Parks, if peopleonly knew Jack as well as I do, they wouldn't say such horrid thingsabout him."
"Well, dear, we all have our trials, and must ask Him to help us bearthem," replied the elderly maiden, with sincere piety. "But about therent. How much is it?"
"Six dollars."
"Not much, truly. But it's more than I have, or I'd pay it in a minute.Have you any money at all?"
"Not over three dollars."
Miss Parks drew out her pocketbook, and examined the contents.
"Just a dollar," she exclaimed. "I declare we are both poor, with moneyin the bank, too." She paused a moment in deep thought. "I'll tell youwhat you might do."
"What?" asked Deb, eagerly.
"Move your things down to my house. I'll let you have the back bedroomand attic, and when you're settled we'll see what is to be done. Jackwill be back before a great while, I'm certain."
Miss Parks was entirely alone in the world. The house that she occupiedwas her own, left her by an invalid uncle, whom she had nursedconstantly during the last four years of his life. She was adress-maker, and a lady's companion, and earned a fair living--a goodlyportion of which found its way to charity and the church--for she was adevout Christian, and an earnest worker in the cause.
"Oh, thank you!" cried Deb, a heavy weight taken from her mind. "Butwon't it be inconvenient for you?"
"Not a bit. In fact I think I'll enjoy company."
"Then I'll accept your offer," continued the girl, "And I think it isreal good of you to let me come."
Miss Parks bent down and kissed the tired cheeks.
"You're a good girl, Deb," she said. "You don't deserve such a trial asthis."
A little later a truckman was engaged who speedily transferred thehousehold goods to Deb's new home.