CHAPTER IV
THE SILVER IMAGES
"Didn't you ever hear of us Jarleys?" Polly first of all demanded.
"Only as being interested in the wax-work business," replied Wyn, withtwinkling eyes.
"I--I guess father never made wax-work," said Polly, hesitatingly.
She was an innocent sort of girl, who evidently lacked many advantagesof education and reading that Wyn and her friends had enjoyed as amatter of course.
"Well, I never heard the name before to-day--not _your_ name, noryour father's," Wyn said.
"Well, we used to live here."
"In Denton?"
"Yes, ma'am----"
"Will you stop that?" cried Wyn. "I am Wyn Mallory, I tell you."
"All right, Wyn. It's a pretty name. I'll be glad to use it," returnedPolly.
"Prove it by using it altogether," commanded Wyn. "Now, what about yourfather?"
"I--I can't tell you much about it--much of the particulars, I mean,"said the girl from Lake Honotonka, diffidently. "I don't really knowthem. Father never speaks of it much. But even as a tiny girl motherexplained to me that when folks said father had done wrong I must denyit. That it was not so. It was only circumstances that made him appearin the wrong. And--you know, Wyn--your mother wouldn't lie to you!"
"Of course not!" cried Wyn, warmly. "Of course not!"
"Well, then, you'll have to believe just what I tell you. Father was insome business deal with a man here in Denton, and something went wrong.The other man accused father of being dishonest. Father could not defendhimself. Circumstances were dead against him. And it worried mother sothat it made her sick.
"So we all left town. Father had very little money, and he built a shackup there in the woods near Honotonka. We're just 'squatters' up there.But gradually father got a few boats, and built a float, and made enoughin the summer from fishermen and campers to support us. Of course,mother being sick so many years before she died, kept us very poor. Ionly go to the district school winters. Then I have to walk four mileseach way, for we own no horse. Summers I help father with the boats."
"That's where you got such palms! cried Wyn, touching her new friend'scalloused hands again.
"It's rowing does it. But I don't mind. I love the water, you see."
"So do I. I've got a canoe. I'm captain of a girls' canoe club."
"That's nice," said Polly. "I suppose when you take up boating for justa sport it's lots better than trying to make one's living out of it."
"Well, tell me more," urged Wyn. "What are you in town for now? Why didI find you crying here on the bench?"
"A man hurt me by talking harshly about poor father," said the girl fromLake Honotonka.
"Come on! tell me," urged Wyn, giving her a little shake. Polly suddenlythrew an arm about the town girl and hugged her tightly.
"I _do_ love you, Wyn Mallory," she sobbed. "I--I wish you were mysister. I get so lonely sometimes up there in the woods, for there'sonly father and me now. And this past winter he was very sick withrheumatic fever. You see, there was an accident."
"He met with an accident, you mean?"
"Yes. It was awful--or it might have been awful for him if he and I hadnot had signals that we use when there's a fog on the lake. I'll tellyou.
"You see, there is a man named Shelton--Dr. Shelton--who lives in one ofthe grand houses at Braisely Park--you know, that is the rich people'ssummer colony at the upper end of the lake?"
"I know about it," said Wyn. "Although I never was there."
"Well, Dr. Shelton had his motor boat down at our float. He left itthere himself, and he told father to go to the express office at Meade'sForge on a certain day and get a box that would be there addressed toDr. Shelton. It was a valuable box.
"When father went for it the expressman would not give it up until hehad telephoned to Dr. Shelton and recognized the doctor's voice over thewire. It seems that that box was packed with ancient silver images thathad been found in a ruined temple in Yucatan, and had been sent to Dr.Shelton by the man who found them. They claim they were worth at theleast five thousand dollars.
"The doctor had a party at his house right then, he said over thetelephone, and he wanted father to come up the lake with the box. Hewanted to display his antique treasures to his friends.
"Now, it was a dreadfully bad day. After father had started down to theForge in the motor boat he knew that a storm was coming. And ahead of itwas a thick fog. He told Dr. Shelton over the 'phone that it was a badtime to make the trip the whole length of Lake Honotonka.
"The doctor would not listen to any excuses, however; and it was hisboat that was being risked. And his silver images, too! Those richpeople don't care much about a poor man's life, and if father hadrefused to risk his on the lake in the storm Dr. Shelton would havegiven his trade to some other boatkeeper after that.
"So father started in the _Bright Eyes_. He did not shoot right upthe middle of the lake, as he would have done had the day been fair. Thelake is twenty miles broad, you know, in the middle. So he kept near ourside--the south side it is--and did not lose sight of the shore atfirst.
"But at Gannet Island he knew he had better run outside. You see, thestrait between the island and the shore is narrow and, when the wind ishigh, it sometimes is dangerous in there. Why, ten years ago, one of thelittle excursion steamers that used to ply the lake then, got caught inthat strait and was wrecked!
"So father _had_ to go outside of Gannet Island. The fog shut downas thick as a blanket before he more than sighted the end of the island.He kept on, remembering what Dr. Shelton had said, and that is where hemade a mistake," said Polly, shaking her head. "He ought to have turnedright around and come back to our landing."
"Oh, dear me! what happened to him?" cried Wyn, eagerly.
"The fog came down, thicker and thicker," proceeded the boatman'sdaughter. "And the wind rode down upon father, too. Wind and fogtogether are not usual; but when the two combine it is much worse thaneither alone. You see, the thick mist swirling into father's eyes,driven head-on by the wind, blinded him. He steered a shade too near theshore.
"Suddenly the _Bright Eyes_ struck. A motor boat, going head-onupon a snag, can be easily wrecked. The boat struck and stuck, andfather leaped up to shut off the engine.
"As he did so, something swished through the blinding fog and struckhim, carrying him backward over the stern of the boat. Perhaps it wasthe loss of his weight that allowed the _Bright Eyes_ to scrapeover the snag. At least, she did so as father plunged into the lake, andas he sank he knew that the boat, with her engine at half speed, wastearing away across the lake.
"It was the drooping limb of a tree that had torn father from the sternof the motor boat," continued Polly Jarley. "It may have been a big rootof the same tree, under water, that had proved the finish of the boat.For nobody ever saw the _Bright Eyes_ again. She just ran off at atangent, into the middle of the lake, somewhere, we suppose, and filledand sank."
"Oh, dear me! And your father?" asked Wyn, anxiously.
"He got ashore on the island. Then he signalled to me, and I went offduring a lull in the storm, and got him. He went to bed, and it wasthree months before he was up and around again.
"He suffered dreadfully with rheumatic fever," continued Polly, sadly."And all the time Dr. Shelton was talking just as mean about him as hecould. He didn't believe his story. He even said that he thought myfather took the motor boat down the river somewhere and sold it. And theway he talked about that box of silver images----"
"Oh, oh!" cried Wyn. "I'd forgotten about them. Of course they werelost, too?"
"Sunk somewhere in Lake Honotonka," declared Polly. "Father knows nomore about where the boat lies than Dr. Shelton himself. But there arealways people ready and willing to pick up the evil that is said about aperson and help circulate it.
"While father was flat on his back, folks were talking about him. We hadto raise money on the boats to pay for our food and father's medicine.If we don't have a good se
ason this summer we will be unable to pay offthe chattel mortgage next winter, and will lose the boats. I tell you,Miss Wyn, it is _hard_."
"You poor, dear girl!" exclaimed Wyn. "I should think it _was_hard. And that mean man accuses your father----"
"Well, you see, there was father's past record against him. The story ofhis trouble here in Denton followed him into the woods, of course. Ifanybody gets mad at us up at the Forge, they throw the whole thing up tous. I--I _hate_ it there," sobbed the boatkeeper's daughter.
"And yet, it is harder on poor father. He is straight, but everythinghas been against him. I saw he felt dreadfully these past few daysbecause I need some decent clothes. And there is no money to buy any.
"So I thought I would come to town and see some old friends of mother'swho used to come and see us years ago. Yes, there were a few people whostuck to mother, even if they did not quite approve of poor father. But,when I paddled 'way down here----"
"Not in a canoe?" cried Wyn.
"Yes, I came down very easily yesterday evening and stopped at aboatman's house on the edge of town. I shall go back again to-day. TheWintinooski isn't kicking up much of a rumpus just now. The springfloods are about all over."
"But you must be a splendid hand with a paddle," said Wyn. "It's a longway to the lake."
"Oh! I don't mind it," said Polly. "Or, I _wouldn't_ mind it if ithad done me the least good to come down here," and she sighed.
"You are disappointed?" queried Wyn.
"Dreadfully! I did not find mother's old friends. I had not heard fromthem for two or three years, and found that they were away--nobody knowswhere. I did not know but I might get work here in town for a few weeks,and live with these old friends, and so earn some money. I am so shabby!And father isn't fit to be seen.
"And then--then there was a man in town who used to befriend mother. Iknow when I was quite a little girl, the year after we had gone to thewoods to live, father was ill for a long time and mother had to havethings. She went to this storekeeper in Denton and he let her havethings on account and we paid him afterward. Oh, we paid him--everycent!" declared Polly, again wiping her eyes.
"And I hoped he would--for mother's sake--help us again. I went to him.I--I reminded him of how father once worked for him, and that he knewmother. But he was angry about something--he would not listen--he wouldneither give me work nor let me have goods charged. I--I--well, it justbroke me down, Wyn Mallory, and I came here to cry it out."
"It's a shame!" exclaimed Wyn. "I am just as sorry for you as I can be.And I believe that your father is perfectly honest and that he never inhis life intended to defraud anybody."
It was that blessed _tact_ that made Wynifred Mallory say that. Itwas the sure way to Polly Jarley's heart; and Wyn's words and way openedthe door wide and Polly took her in.
"You--you _blessed_ creature!" cried the boatman's daughter. "Iknow you must have been 'specially sent to comfort me. I _was_ somiserable."
"Of course I was sent," declared Wyn. She did not propose to tell hernew acquaintance that she had observed her in Erad's store and hadlooked for her all over Market Street.
"Such things are meant to be. If we trust to God we surely shall haverelease from our difficulties. That is just as sure as the day followsthe night," declared Wyn, with simple, straight-forward faith.
"And just see how it is proved in this case. You were in trouble, andsat here crying, and needed somebody to help you. And I came alongperfectly willing and able to help you, and you are going to be helped."
"I _am_ helped!" declared Polly. "You just put the courage backinto me. I didn't know what to do----"
"Do you know any better now?" demanded Wyn, quickly.
"We--ell, I----"
"That doesn't sound as though you had _quite_ made up your mind,"said Wyn, with a little laugh.
"Never mind. I can stand even going back home with my hands empty,better than before I met you," declared Polly, bravely.
"But you won't go back home empty-handed."
"Oh, Wyn! Can you get me work?"
"No, not here. Nor do I believe you ought to leave your father alone upthere for so long. I expect he is not very well yet?"
"No. He is not," admitted Polly.
"Then, you go home. That is the best place for you, anyway. But beforeyou go you shall make such purchases as you may need----"
Polly drew away from her along the seat, and her gray eyes grewbrighter. "Oh, Miss Mallory!" she murmured. "Don't do _that_."
"Don't do what?" demanded Wyn.
"Don't spoil it all."
"Spoil what-all?" cried Wyn, in exasperation. "I'm not going to spoilanything. But you listen to me. This is sense."
"I--I couldn't take charity from _you_--a stranger."
"I offer to lend you twenty dollars. You can pay it back when youchoose."
"Twenty dollars! You lend me twenty dollars?"
"Yes. I have quite some spending money given to me, and I have beensaving nearly all of it for some time. So I can easily spare it."
"But I don't know when I can repay you."
"I can tell you, then. You can pay me back this very summer."
"This summer, miss?"
"Don't call me 'miss'!" cried Wyn, in greater exasperation. "I have toldyou my name is 'Wyn'! And I mean exactly what I say. This is a perfectlystraight business proposition," and she laughed her full-throated laughthat made even Polly Jarley, in her trouble, smile.
"Then your business, Wyn Mallory, must be the saving of people fromtrouble--is that it? For there is no reason in what you say you willdo--Oh, I can't accept it. It would be charity!" cried Polly, againclasping Wyn's hands.
"It is not charity," said Wyn, firmly, opening her purse. "And I'llquickly show you why it is not. You see, Polly Jolly--and I want you tosmile at me and look as though you fitted that name. You see, I amcaptain of the Go-Ahead Club."
"The Go-Ahead Club?"
"Yes. We are six girls. We each own canoes. And we are just _crazy_to spend next summer under canvas."
"You are going camping?"
"That is our intention," Wyn said, nodding.
"Oh, then! come up to Lake Honotonka," cried Polly. "I can show youbeautiful places to camp, and we can have lots of fun----"
"That likewise is our intention," broke in Wyn. "We have just decided tocamp for the summer on the shore of the lake. Rather, our parents,guardians, and the cat, have finally agreed to our plans. We shall comeup there the week after the Academy closes."
"Now, we want you, Polly, to find us the very best camping place, toarrange everything for us, and don't have it too far from your place,and from Meade's Forge. I expect the Busters will camp on one of theislands. The Busters, you see, are our boy friends who are likewisegoing to the lake. They were there last year with Professor Skillings."
"I remember them," said Polly, wonderingly. "And you and your girlfriends are coming?"
"Just the surest thing you know, Polly," declared Wyn. "So you are goingto take this twenty dollars," and she suddenly thrust the bill into theother girl's hand and closed her fingers over it. "Then, next summer, weshall let you pay it back in perfectly legitimate charges, for we'llwant you and your father to help us a good deal.
"Now, what say, Polly Jolly? Will you please let your face fit yourname--as I have rechristened you? Smile, my dear--smile!"
"I could cry again, Wyn--you are so kind!" half sobbed the other girl.
"Now, you stop all that foolishness--a great, big girl like you!"exclaimed Wyn. "Turn off the sprinkler, as Dave Shepard says. Get rightup now and go briskly about your buying. And write to me when you gethome and write just as often as you can till we meet at the lake thissummer."
"You dear!" ejaculated Polly.
"You're another. How will I address you--at the Forge?"
"Yes, and you must give me your address," said the boatman's daughter,eagerly.
Wyn did so. The two girls, such recent but already such warm friends,kissed each other and Polly
Jarley went briskly away toward MarketStreet. Wyn stopped on the bench for several minutes and watched thegirl from Lake Honotonka walk away, while a smile wreathed her lips anda warm light lingered in her brown eyes.