CHAPTER II
DOROTHY AT THE OFFICE
Could the sunshine of yesterday be forgotten in the clouds of to-day?
Major Dale was ill. Overfatigue from the long march, the doctor said,had brought on serious complications.
Early that morning after Memorial Day, Aunt Libby called Dorothy to goto her father. The faithful housekeeper had been about all night, forthe major had had a high fever, but now, with daylight, came a loweringof temperature, and he wanted Dorothy.
"Now, don't take on when you see him," Aunt Libby told the frightenedgirl. "Just make light of it and pet him like."
Poor Dorothy! To think her own "Daddy" was really sick--and so manyveterans already dead! But she must not have gloomy thoughts, she mustbe brave and strong as he had always taught her to be.
"Why, Daddy," she whispered, in a strained voice, kissing his hotcheek, "the honors of yesterday were too much for you."
"Guess so, Little Captain, but I'll be on hand at mess time," and hemade an effort to look like a well man. "But I tell you, daughter,there's something on my mind; the Bugle should come out to-morrow."
"And so it will. I'll go directly down to the office and tell Ralph."
"Yes, Ralph Willoby is a good boy--the best I have ever had in theBugle office. And that's why I sent for you so early. I want you to godown to the office and help Ralph."
"Oh, I'll just love to!" and Dorothy was really pleased at the prospectof working on the paper, in spite of the unfortunate circumstance---herfather's illness--that gave her the chance.
"Not so fast now. You must pay strict attention--"
"But you are not to talk: you have had a fever, from fatigue, you know,and it might come back. Just let me go to the office and I will promiseto return for instructions at the very first trouble Ralph meets."
Dorothy was already on her feet. She knew the very worst thing themajor could do in his present condition would be to talk business.
"Now I'm off," she said, with a kiss and an assuring smile, "you willbe proud of to-morrow's Bugle. 'All about Memorial Day!' 'Get the Bugleif you want the news!'" she added, in true newsboy style. Then AuntLibby came in to wait on the major.
But Dorothy's heart was not as light as her smile had been. Her fatherlooked very ill, and the bread and butter of the Dale householddepended upon the getting out of the Bugle.
Her brothers, Joe and Roger, had been sent to school early to be out ofthe way, but to-morrow they might both stay home, thought the sister,for they could help sell papers.
"Father never would let the boys do it," she reflected, "but he is sicknow, and we must do the very best we can. If he were ill a long time wewould have to get along."
Only waiting to snatch up a sandwich left from her brothers'lunch,--for she knew the noon hour would be a busy time at the Bugleoffice,--Dorothy hurried out and over to Tavia's.
"I can't go to school to-day," she called in at the half opened door."Father is sick, and I must attend to some business for him."
"Bad?" queried Tavia, for she noticed the change in her friend's manner.
"Perhaps not so very. But you know he is seldom sick, and now he has afever."
"Fever?" echoed Mrs. Travers. "Tavia, close that door this very minute!We cannot afford to catch fevers."
Dorothy felt as if some one had slapped her face. To think of herfather giving any one sickness!
"Nonsense, ma," spoke up Tavia. "The major is only ill from walking inthe hot sun. Come in, Doro dear, and tell us if we can help you."
"Aunt Libby is alone with him, and when the doctor comes she may needsomething. If your ma would not be afraid to let Johnnie run over aboutnoon, I would pay him for any errand," spoke Dorothy.
"Oh, certainly, dear," the woman replied, now venturing to poke heruncombed head out of doors, thinking, evidently that the mere mentionof money was the most powerful antiseptic known. "Of course Johnniewill be too pleased. I'll send him any time you say."
Secretly glad that her mother had so promptly overcome her fear of thefever, but also ashamed that her motive should be so flagrant, Taviaslipped on her things and joined her companion.
"I wouldn't keep you another minute," she began, "for I know just howanxious you are. But I'm going along to help. I can go on errands atleast, and keep you company."
"Oh, Tavia, dear, perhaps you had better go to school. On account ofthe trouble yesterday, teacher will think we are both defying her."
"Then let her send the Lady Sarah to find out," retorted Tavia. "Iwould show her if I had freckles on my tongue."
"Please don't talk so, Tavia, it is wrong--"
"Wrong? My father says there are some men in this world too mean tobother the law about. He says he knows one he would like to thresh onlyhe is sure the sneak would not hit him back, but would have himarrested. Physical punishment is the kind for such, father declares.And that's just the way I feel about Lady Sarah. I would not tellteacher on her, for that would give her a chance to 'crawl,' as Johnniecalls being mean. So sticking my tongue out at her is the nearest I cancome to physical punishment."
This doctrine did not in any way coincide with the upright views ofDorothy, but she knew argument would be useless. Besides, her head andheart were too full of other things to bother about school girltroubles.
"Are you going to print the whole paper?" Tavia asked, with amusingignorance of the ways of the Great American Press.
"Why, no, dear, I could not print it. Ralph must do that."
"Oh, I know. Just put things in it."
"I may have to write some," Dorothy replied, with an important air."The parade story was not written. Father intended to do that."
"Oh, goody!" went on the irrepressible Tavia. "Say that the meanestgirl in school, Miss Sarah Ford, was chosen, at the last moment, tolead the girls, owing to the sudden illness of Miss Dorothy Dale, themost popular girl in school, who took a headache from the sun, butlater recovered in time to carry a Betsy Ross flag, along with her dearfriend, Miss Octavia Travers, the flags being presented to the girls byMajor Dale. There now, how's that?" and Tavia fairly beamed at the veryidea of having her "story" printed.
"I declare, Tavia, you can string words together, as father would say.But we cannot say anything against any one. That would bring onlawsuits, you know."
"Oh yes, I know. It's just as pa says: some folks are too mean foranything but a good thrashing--and that's Sarah. But I'll do anything Ican to help you, and I hope I won't get the Bugle into any lawsuits."
Dorothy thanked her, and remarked that it was not likely.
By this time they had reached the newspaper office. Up two flights ofstairs, over the post-office and drug store, the girls found themuch-perplexed Ralph Willoby waiting anxiously for his employer.
Ralph was that kind of a young man whom people trust at once. He wasknown all over Dalton as a most zealous worker in the "Liquor Crusade,"that was being very actively carried on in the town. He had a firmface, and deep, clear eyes. The major used to say his eyes could talkfaster than his tongue--and he knew how to converse well, too.
He had his sleeves rolled up, and was bending over a pile of "copy"when the girls entered the office. He brushed his sleeves down and roseto hear their message.
"Father is ill," began Dorothy weakly, for inside the office itsdifficulties seemed to crush her.
"And we're going to get the paper out," blurted Tavia, trying to graspthe wonders of a real newspaper office in a single sweeping glance.
"Can't he come down?" and the young man's voice betrayed his anxiety.
"I'm afraid not," went on Dorothy. "He said we were to do the best wecould. I was to help--"
"And I guess I'm to sell the papers. Hurry up and print some. Is thisthe printing press?" Tavia rattled on.
"But the parade," demurred Ralph, "it is not even written. I can managethe press well enough, but our reporter Mr. Thomas, has not come inthis morning. I suppose yesterday was too much for him."
"I think I could write up
the parade," ventured Dorothy. "I have oftenhelped father read proof, you know."
"Perhaps you can," assented Ralph. "Here is a pencil and some copypaper. You had better try at once, as I will have to go to pressearlier than usual to allow for 'snags,'" and he smiled to apologizefor the newspaper slang.
Dorothy sat down at her father's desk. Somehow, she felt a confidencein her efforts when seated there, where he had worked so faithfully,and successfully, too, for the Bugle sounded always the note of truthand sincerity. She started at once to write up the parade. She shouldbe careful, of course, not to mention the major's name, or her own (herfather never did) and she hoped she could at least make a goodcomposition or essay on Memorial Day.
Dorothy worked earnestly, for she meant to have that issue of the paperup to the mark, if her labors could bring it there.
Ralph had rolled up his sleeves again, and was busy with the press.Tavia was "nosing around," as she expressed it. The door openedsuddenly and little Johnnie Travers rushed in.
"The major sent me--to tell you--" and he had to get a new breath insomehow--"to tell you that old Mrs. Douglass is--is dead!" he finallymanaged to say. "He wants you to be sure to--to--put her in the paper."
"Nothing but live stuff in this paper, Johnnie dear," spoke up Tavia."Mrs. Douglass was bad enough alive--but dead! We really haven'tspace," and, in spite of the real seriousness of the matter, for Mrs.Douglass was an important woman in Dalton, or had been up to thatmorning, Ralph and Dorothy were compelled to laugh at the wit of theirfriend.
"She was a big woman," said Ralph, adding to the mix-up in language,"and the Bugle is small. But being 'big' we cannot afford to slight hermemory. There is so little time--"
"I can write that," said Tavia, shaking her head with a meaning. "And Iknow all about Mrs. Douglass and her high fence. Also the flowersbehind the boxwood. Here, Doro, give me some of that paper--"
"Oh, you would have to see some of the family," interrupted Ralph."Find out how she died, when she will be buried; if she said anythinginteresting--about charities, you know--"
"For mine!" sang out Tavia, adjusting her hat.
"Yes, your first assignment," ventured Ralph. "Dorothy must finish theparade, and I must attend to the typesetting, so if you could,really,--"
"Of course I can. Haven't I spent more time in the graveyard than atschool? And don't I know what they say about dead persons?
"'Here lies Mrs. Doug,-- She had a mug, And none in Dalt could match it, When she took sick, She died that quick, The Bugle couldn't catch it.'
"How's that?" went on the girl. "Shows it was our busy day and wehadn't time to catch the dead news, not Mrs. Doug's face, you know."
"Oh, Tavia, what slang!" cried Dorothy, and added: "you had better notgo, you will surely say or do something--"
"I certainly shall both say and do something. Johnnie look out for yournose there. That machine is going and your nose is not insured. Yes,Doro, this issue of the Bugle will blow a blast both loud and shrill inmemory of Mrs. Doug. You know she loved blowing, never missed a windyday to collect the rent."
It was useless to argue. Tavia was bent on doing the "obit." as Ralphcalled the obituary assignment. She went out with Johnnie at her heels.
"She's the jolly kind," commented Ralph, as the door closed on thebrother and sister.
"Yes, and so few understand her," Dorothy replied. "To me she is justthe dearest girl in Dalton, but others think differently of her."
"I've known boys like that," assented the young man. "They seem to livein a shell, and only poke their real selves out to certain persons,those who love them."
"I feel more like writing now," said Dorothy, brightening up, "Johnnietold me father is better--he was taking some nourishment, the childsaid, and when the doctor left Johnnie did not have to go to the drugstore. That means, of course, that there is nothing new setting in. Ithink Aunt Libby should have kept Joe and Roger from school, but shethought the house would be quieter for father with them away. AuntLibby is very nervous lately."
"I do hope the major will be well soon," answered Ralph. "He seemed sostrong, but I suppose when sickness takes hold of something worth whilethe result is equally of consequence."
For some time the girl and young man worked without furtherconversation. Dorothy bent earnestly over her story, while Ralph wasbusy with the type, setting up the last item of news that would go inthe week's issue of the Bugle.
Suddenly something like a scream aroused them.
"What was that?" asked Dorothy, but without waiting to answer Ralphhurried to the door. At that moment Tavia staggered into the office.Her hat was off and her face was very white.
"Oh, what is it, Tavia dear?" Dorothy cried. "What has happened?"
"I'm so--so frightened," gasped the girl. "Lock the door--that--thatman--he may come in! He is in the hall."
Ralph was out in the hall instantly. The girls, clasped in each other'sarms, could hear him running down the stairs.
"Oh, he is so rough and strong--he may hurt Ralph," whispered Tavia,too frightened to trust her own voice.
It seemed a long time to the girls, but Ralph was back in the room withthem in a very few minutes.
"There was no one in the hall," he said, "and I looked up and down thestreet. No one--no stranger seemed to be in sight."
"Well, I was just coming up the stairs, and I couldn't see from thesun, when some one grabbed me," Tavia explained.
"Oh, Tavia!" interrupted Dorothy.
"Yes, indeed, a great big horrid man, with a hat over his eyes, and oh,he was dreadful!" and poor Tavia began to tremble again.
Ralph had his coat on now. That man should not get away!
"But you can't leave us," begged the girls. "He might break the doorin."
"Then come down stairs and we will lock up. I must telephone to SquireSanders."
"He isn't home," Tavia declared. "I saw him drive out as I went upWilliam Street."
But Ralph insisted on giving the alarm.
"What did he say to you?" he asked.
"Why, he must have thought I was Dorothy. I saw him first just as Iturned out of the Douglass' place, and he followed me all the way. Atthe lane--where it was really lonely--he called to me and I stopped. Hesaid 'Where are you going?' I told him to the Bugle office. I didn'tthink anything of it. I am never afraid. Then he got nearer to me--"
"Why didn't you run?" asked Dorothy.
"Why, I never thought of such a thing. I thought maybe he was cominghere with some news. Even when he started up the dark stairs after me Iwasn't afraid. But when he grabbed me--"
"Oh!" screamed Dorothy.
"Yes, and he said: 'See here, Miss Dale, if you put one line in printabout that old woman being dead--I'll blow the place up.'"
"He must be a crank," said Ralph. "Such people always drift intonewspaper offices."
"Oh, no, I am sure he meant it, for he grabbed my notes. He saw mereading them in the lane," Tavia paused an instant. "And really, poorMrs. Douglass was a good woman. The servant girl told me how she hadworked for that Miles Burlock,--she had some special interest inhim,--and you know how he drinks."
Unfortunately every one in Dalton knew only too well how Miles Burlockdrank. Ralph had often helped him home, and then tried to get the manto talk of reformation, but it seemed like a hopeless case.
"Why should that strange man want the paper to keep quiet about Mrs.Douglass?" asked Dorothy.
"Something about Burlock, perhaps," Ralph answered, thoughtfully. "Thisman may be in with the drinking class, and perhaps if Burlock readanything or heard it, somehow he might go to the Douglass house, andthey say Death is a great teacher. I know Mrs. Douglass oftenbefriended Burlock."
"Then let him blow the office up!" cried Dorothy, with sudden courage."Father never listened to threats! Tavia, can you remember some of theimportant facts? Quiet yourself and think it over."