“Oh,” said the man behind the window, “so you got around to paying on time, at last, did you?”
The quick color rolled up in the sick man’s sallow cheek.
“I always pay on time, when I have the money,” said Mr. Shambley, and his tone was almost haughty. “The last two payments I had been sick and lost my job.”
“Oh,” said the receiver, “well, we have to get ready for unexpected things like that, you know. Can’t expect a company to loan you money without interest. We are not in business for benevolence. You came mighty near losing your property, do you know it? I had orders if you didn’t pay before noon today to foreclose on you.”
Mr. Shambley turned away quietly, feeling suddenly faint and dizzy but knowing he had still other things to do before he could give way to this feeling.
Slowly and with his head up, he made his way out of the Chalmers office and walked down the street to his former bank. This was an exciting moment. He was going to deposit some money in his old account, and while it wasn’t really his money yet, but was merely borrowed, it gave him an added feeling of self-respect to do it.
There was a long line of people before each window when he entered the bank, and just to rest his trembling limbs and get his breath, he went and sat down on a vacant bench. Then, as soon as the line was nearing the end, he got up and took out his old bank book and his envelope of money.
But it was heartening to find that here, he was welcomed.
He may have felt shame when he drew out his last cent, but there had been no reproach connected with that, and now he was entering a deposit again. So the old cashier greeted him with a cheery good morning, and as he noted the three hundred dollars that were being deposited and wrote them down into the book, he added, “Glad to see you’re back again.”
Much cheered with the pleasant words and almost trembling with gladness of it, Mr. Shambley walked out of his bank with a smile on his face. His mortgage interest was paid and he had a small balance in the bank again. There was food in his home, milk and bread coming on the regular deliveries, his little girl was getting well, and he would soon be in shape to take another job. Why should he feel so shaken? Oh, he had one more duty. He was to go to the drugstore and get some coffee. He had promised, and of course his new friend would be here after him soon. He must be in good shape to go home with him. He must show he could keep a promise.
Of course, he would like to go somewhere and inquire about a job. Perhaps after he had that coffee and a sandwich—but no, he must keep his promise. Besides, he was looking rather pale and feeble, and it might not be a good setup to try to get a job. He must get in good physical shape before he tried for a job. Nevertheless, he could inquire around a little if he saw anybody who seemed likely to know about jobs.
His trembling limbs carried him safely to the drugstore where he was to meet Madison, and he slipped quietly into a vacant booth and smiled pleasantly into the eyes of the boy who came to take his order.
“Give me a cup of coffee. Yes, cream and sugar, please. And have you got any sandwiches?”
“Oh, sure, ham or cheese or both? Peanut butter, too.”
“Give me one of each,” said the man who had been going practically without food himself that his family could have the few crumbs that his poverty might provide.
“I’ve got to get well and strong as soon as I can,” he told himself as he munched the sandwiches slowly and took great heartening swallows of the hot coffee. It seemed to him that he had never eaten anything so good. Of course, that soup and coffee last night was wonderful, but after all, he couldn’t rightly savor it then, because there had been that mortgage looming with only a stranger’s promise of the money to pay it. But now the interest was paid, and the next to the last installment principal, and he was going to get well and get a job, and now he could really enjoy eating and drinking.
He glanced at the clock over the door. It was half past eleven. The young man wouldn’t be there until twelve at least, would he? There would be time for another cup of coffee and a couple more sandwiches. That would fortify him for the ride home, and then if all went well, he would take a good long nap, and then he would try to go out and see if there was any chance of a job somewhere. If he could only get to work right away and begin to return some of that borrowed money, then after a while he could begin to live again. For as things were now, he was really no better off than he had been yesterday. But he could feel new strength going through him. He would be well very soon.
It was ten minutes to twelve when Paige walked into the store and singled out his man, who was just swallowing the last drop of coffee, and actually, there was a new look to him that showed even at a distance.
“Well, brother, how did it go?” he asked, with a keen look into the man’s face. For to tell the truth, Paige had been tormented all the morning lest he ought not to have trusted this stranger with so much money. Suppose he should go and get drunk or go off somewhere and have a good time, spend all that money wildly? Then he would have a right to blame himself with having been rash. He hadn’t even told June how much he was lending the man. He must have been crazy, he told himself when he thought it over.
Then hard work had begun, and there came up more than one case where furtive words were spoken that showed that Harris Chalmers was not inclined to be lenient with any of his customers, and more than one man was turned away without a receipt for his mortgage money, or without a deed for his property, because he had pleaded that he could not pay all he owed that day. More and more the matter of the business itself began to worry the young man. Of course it was not in any sense his responsibility, yet if he knew these things to be going on, how could he possibly sell, or urge upon poor men to buy, and that he knew he was supposed to do?
So the morning had dragged anxiously for Paige, and he was greatly relieved to see his man safe and sound, apparently enjoying some food, and not in the least drunk. Also, he was delighted when his protégé, looking up, recognized him with a hitherto unproduced smile that really made him almost good looking.
“Oh,” said Shambley, with almost a ring of triumph in his voice, “it went fine. Thanks to you!” he added shyly. “I tell you it does make a difference for a man to go anywhere with money in his pocket. At least,” he added with almost a sigh, “till one remembers that it is only borrowed and will have to be paid back before long—and—I haven’t any job!”
“There, there!” said Paige, like a mother to a sick child. “Don’t begin that yet. That will all come in good time, and you’ll be able to see it through. Come. Are you through here? Is this paid for? Because I think we better hurry. I’ll have to get back to my office later, you know.”
“Oh, yes, it’s paid for, thanks be!” said the erstwhile man of poverty. “I paid for it before I began to eat. You see, I’ve learned my lesson.”
Paige smiled and led the way out to the car.
When they were seated and had made their way out of the thick of traffic, Paige said, “Well, how did the rest go? Have you any question about your mortgage?”
Shambley looked up with a sort of a sheepish grin and shook his head.
“No,” he said slowly, “only I thought they looked surprised. The man tried to be a bit sarcastic at first, but when he saw my roll of bills come out, he began to sing a different song.”
“Yes?” said Paige, with a grin. “Well, that’s the way to get the best of them. And did you go to the bank?”
“I certainly did. And you would have thought I was their long-lost brother, or the prodigal son, or something, the way they welcomed me.”
“Well, that’s nice. Now let’s keep it that way. No, don’t look worried. You’ll soon have a job. And now tell me your life history, your working history, I mean. What work have you done?”
“Well, a little of almost everything,” said Shambley. “Of course, when I came back from World War I, I had to take whatever I could get for a while, same as you do today, but I worked around on a farm for a few m
onths, and then I got me a job in an office, doing bookkeeping.”
“Oh, are you a bookkeeper?”
“Yes, and they said I was pretty good. I’ve got some recommendations that might come in handy. And besides all that, I’m kind of handy with tools. Been a machinist now and again.”
“Well, that sounds good. We’ll see what we can do for you as soon as the doctor says you’re able to work. I imagine he’ll say you better begin at something out-of-doors until you get your health thoroughly established. Would you be willing to look after some gardens at first? Then you wouldn’t have to work a whole day always, if it seemed too hard on you.”
“Oh, sure! I could work at gardens. That wouldn’t tire me.”
“Well, we’ll see the doctor first. And for a start, I think my father could use you in his garden. He’s been quite sick this spring, and we’re trying to persuade him to go a little easy. He’s getting to be an old man and can’t stand so much anymore.”
So they talked happily as they went on their way, and Shambley was much cheered. But Paige was more and more troubled as he thought ahead and wondered what he was going to do about his wonderful job.
June came out, smiling to meet them as they drove up to the house.
“Nannie is decidedly better. Her temperature is down to ninety-nine, and she ate quite a nice lunch. The nurse has just come back, and she’s going to stay until tomorrow, at least. She is wonderful. And that kid brother is worth his weight in gold. He can do almost anything and do it well, and he’s willing as can be.”
“That’s great! Now, I’ll just see my man gets into bed comfortably, and then we’ll start. He’s had a good lunch, coffee and sandwiches, and won’t need anything more till he wakes up.”
“That’s splendid. I’ll go tell the nurse. I promised I’d be back late this afternoon and get dinner so she could get a nap before night. Dad will bring me out.”
“Okay. And I’ll be out here after you later. There’ll likely be other things to do. I’ll drive right out from the office as early as I can get away.”
“And by the way,” said June, “Mother has an easy-to-eat hot lunch for us ready the minute we get there right now. I told her you had to get back to the office and wouldn’t have any time to eat.”
“Oh, that is kind, but I don’t need a lunch. I’ve often gone without.”
“Of course you have,” laughed June, “but this is one time you don’t have to. Soup and coffee and chicken sandwiches and pumpkin pie and cheese don’t take long to eat.”
“Oh, boy!” said Paige. “Sure I’ll stay. Even if I get fired from my job for being late, I’ll stay.”
“Well, you needn’t get fired this time,” laughed June. “Mother knows you have to go at once, so you needn’t stand on ceremony. And she’ll have something you can eat quickly.”
It was a pleasant drive, and Paige had a delicious, quick lunch and soon was speeding back to the office, thinking what a quiet, pleasant home the new manse had become, and how understandable it was with a background like that, that June should be so different from so many other girls. Was it thinkable that Reva Chalmers might have been like that with a mother and father such as June had?
The thought flitted through his mind that perhaps riches and ambition dominated sweetness and quietness. But he put it away and turned his thoughts to the immediate afternoon and what the office would have in store for his faculties. He had spent too much time on outside matters in the last twenty-four hours, and it behooved him to get right down to business and work fast. Tonight he would run out to Shambley’s and see how things were doing and get the doctor’s slant on the patients, and then perhaps he would be able to bring June home again.
That thought was pleasant.
Chapter 7
When Paige drew up at the Shambley house late that afternoon and stopped his car not far from the window that opened into Nannie’s room, he thought he heard the little girl crying again, and he sat still to listen. Was the child worse? Perhaps he ought to go for the doctor or after something that was needed for her.
“I’m glad you’ve come, Miss June,” came the sorrowful little girl’s words between sobs. “I got afraid again.”
“But my dear, what were you afraid of?” asked June’s gentle voice.
“I was just afraid I might get dying again. Every—body—hasta die—sometime, don’t they?”
“Why, yes,” said June, “but if you have the Lord Jesus in your heart, it is nothing to be afraid of. It is only your body that dies then, but your spirit goes straight to be with Jesus, and He loves you, you know. He won’t let any harm come to you.”
“But—I’ve been—awful bad—sometimes—and—and—He would know that mebee, and He wouldn’t like me and would mebbe send me out of heaven.”
“Oh, no, He would never send anybody who belonged to Him out away from Him. He loves you, and He took all your sin on Himself, just as if He Himself had done it, and then He paid the death price when He died on the cross for you, so there is nothing against you anymore. When you accepted Him as your Savior, that meant that you had the right to all His righteousness. So you don’t have to live under your old sins, because Jesus Christ will live in you and cover you with His own righteousness.”
“How do you know that, Miss June?” asked the timid little voice. “What makes you think He would do that for me?”
“Because the Bible says so, my dear. See, I have marked it with a red pencil in your own little Bible that I am leaving for you, dear, and you can read it for yourself as often as you get afraid. It says, ‘Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree.’ There are a lot more verses in there that tell you how He loved you and died for you. I have marked a few of them, and when you get better you can read them for yourself.”
“Oh, thank you,” said the small sad voice, “but don’t you think He’ll forget me when you’re gone home? Just me? He wouldn’t want to bother with me.”
“No, my dear. He has said, ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.’ He won’t forget you, because He loves you and died for you. And the Bible says He has a book of remembrance, where the names of all those that fear the Lord and think upon His Name are written, and your name is there. He cannot forget you. You are His own. He never forsakes His own. He says He will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and their iniquities He will remember no more, and in another place He says, ‘I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins.’ Now, can’t you rest your heart on those words and go to sleep? Your head is nice and cool. You haven’t hardly a speck of fever, and when you wake up, the nurse will have a nice little pleasant supper for you.”
“I’ll try,” the young voice said trustingly, and then Paige could hear soft steps, the closing of a door, and June came quietly out to meet him. He saw by her eyes that she was glad he was there.
June reported that the father was still asleep, had been asleep ever since he came home at noon, and the doctor had been in to see him and seemed pleased. She had the dinner nicely started, the table set, things in the oven getting their finishing touches. The nurse had promised to call on the telephone if she needed any help, and to see that Mr. Shambley roused to eat some supper. There would be no need for them to come back that night unless she sent for them.
Then Paige suddenly felt disappointment. He wanted this pleasant association to go on.
“I was very much interested in the way you quieted Nannie’s fears,” he said as they started home. “The car was just outside the window and I couldn’t help hearing. It was wonderful the way you had all those verses on the tip of your tongue.”
“Oh,” said June, with a compassionate look at the young man, “I’ve known all those verses since I was a child. I presume you do, too, if you stopped to think about it.”
“Well, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have had even the most familiar ones right on tap the way you did, and known which to use. I learned verses, o
f course, when I was a child, but it is so long since I’ve paid any attention to them that I doubt if I could finish more than half a dozen if I were to start.”
“You probably could,” said June. “Verses like those are not so easily forgotten.”
Paige was still for a full minute, then he said shamedly, “Well, you see, I was fairly familiar with the main facts in the Bible. I was a pretty good church member, I thought. I was doing church work to a certain extent. I always went to church. But it didn’t really impress itself upon me as something I ought to do, to read the Bible much. I felt that I had been well brought up by Christian parents and that was all I needed. I guess not many of us fellows that went over really thought that we were going to be killed, or got any idea there was likelihood we might. Not till we got over there and were about to start out on our own on some mission. Then I’ll own I was really scared and began to search around in my mind for something I had been taught that would still that awful beating of my heart, and that appalling vacancy in my stomach. It took the nearness of the enemy to start that, I guess, and I would have given the world and all for somebody to tell me what to do, what to think—even what to pray. For somehow I couldn’t really pray out there, only little stilted, formal sentences, like ‘God help me.’ And I was wondering while I heard you talking to Nannie, suppose I had met you for a few minutes out there before I went out to meet the enemy, suppose I had asked you for help. What would you have said?”
June looked at him keenly, studying his face, and saw he was in earnest. Then after a moment she answered: “Why, I would have asked you if you had ever willingly been crucified with Christ. Not just joined the church, but given up your whole self into His keeping; not just accepted Christ as your Savior, but really been willing to die to the things of the flesh, the things of this world. Did you ever come to that place where you could honestly say, ‘I am crucified’?”
“Do you mean that if I never did that I wouldn’t be saved?”
“No,” said June. “There are many Christians who really believe but never get to the place of privilege where they have surrendered everything and trust it all to Christ. If you are crucified with Christ, then you have the right to claim His risen power in your life. That means that we are identified with Christ in His death and have a right to the power that He brought out of the tomb when He rose from the dead. Why should one who has that power be afraid of death? Death was the last foe that He conquered, and death cannot hurt those who have once been crucified with Christ. Do you see?”