The Challengers

by Grace Livingston Hill

  "Who was it, Mother, that gave it to him?" asked Melissa.

  "Why, I can't remember his name. He was in college some years ago, and he only sent the clock last winter, you know, from somewhere in Europe. I had no chance to question your father, for the nurse came in and said he must not talk anymore. But I could see it would disturb him greatly if we were to sell the clock."

  "If he knew just how things were," began Melissa, "perhaps he would feel differently."

  "No, Lissa, I wouldn't want to ask him. There must be some other way, and a mere clock couldn't make much difference one way or another," said the mother firmly.

  "There'll be some other way," said Phyllis. "I've got an idea, and I'm going out to try it out. If it materializes, maybe I can rake in a few dollars by night. No, I'm not going to tell anything about it. Likely it won't come to anything, and I can't stand being laughed at."

  "But how are we going to find out about Steve?" asked Melissa. "Something's got to be done, hasn't there?"

  "I'm going out to a telephone booth and get the dean or the hospital at once," said Mrs. Challenger. "It seems extravagant, but we've really got to know more before we can do anything, and anyway there's got to be some more money before anybody can go to Stephen. I think perhaps I might get in touch with our old college president in an emergency like this. . . ." Her voice trailed off vaguely. "I'll see what can be done about selling off the things in storage, too, and paying that debt."

  "Couldn't we ask that nice butcher to lend us ten dollars more?" It was Melissa who ventured this.

  "No, dear," vetoed the mother. "He has probably impoverished himself already with the things he has done for us. I couldn't think of asking. He would be embarrassed to say no, and he would feel he had to lend it if we asked, even if he couldn't spare it."

  "I know," said Melissa, "I'll go and hunt up Mrs. Mowbray. She was always awfully fond of me when I used to go and play duets with Amelia. I'll ask her if she will lend us--how much money would we need to go to Stephen? Twenty-five dollars? Fifty? Would that be enough? Well, I could tell her that Father was sick, and the bank had closed that had our safe-deposit box with our bonds, and all of our ready money was gone. She would understand--I'll go!" said Melissa, watching her mother's face.

  "Oh, my dear!" began her mother. "I do dislike to borrow from strangers, even from rich people. Of course, we could pay her back as soon as the bank opens again, but----"

  "She likely won't be at home," said Phyllis sorrowfully. "Those rich people never are. She'll be in Palm Beach, or the mountains, or Europe or somewhere."

  "Well, I mean to try anyway."

  Then suddenly the young man of the house spoke. They had forgotten him in the general distress until now.

  "Say, Mother, if that was a borrowed car, will Steve havta pay for it?"

  "Oh, mercy! How could Steve pay for a car?" The mother turned white with dismay.

  "He couldn't, but does he havta?"

  "Oh, I don't know!" sighed the mother and dropped down with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands again.

  "Oh, Bob, don't bother Mother with questions now. Don't you see she's got just all she can stand?" put in Phyllis.

  "I ain't bothering her, am I? I didn't smash up a borrowed car, did I? But I guess I gotta get busy and do something about it, ain't I? I'm the only man left in the house now."

  "You'd better get busy and go to school," said Phyllis, suddenly looking at her watch. "Do you know it's twenty-five after?"

  "Where's Rosalie?"

  "Here I am," said Rosalie, emerging from the dining room door that went into the pantry, with a dewy look about her eyes and peace upon her brow; and somehow Phyllis knew what she had been doing and wondered. Rosalie's family was keeping her pretty busy praying these days. Would it do any good? Phyllis wondered.

  "Yes, you must hurry to school," said the mother, rousing to the occasion. "There's no point in being late. You can't help out that way. Just do as well as you can, and don't worry, dears."

  "Don't you worry, Muth," said Bob diffidently, suddenly flinging his arms about her neck and giving her a great bear hug. Then abashed, he rushed away, calling back to Rosalie to hurry.

  With a sigh, the mother donned her look of worry and got up.

  "I'll go right away and telephone, and if someone has to go, I guess it had better be Phyllis. I couldn't go without telling your father about Steve, and that might be serious just now when he's in such a critical condition. The doctor said it might be fatal if he worried."

  "Why shouldn't I go, Mother? I'm the oldest," asked Melissa, thinking of the happy times and the glamour of a college town. She had always longed to visit Steve. She had hoped against hope that she might somehow get to his commencement.

  "Well--" said the mother considering, "you might, of course, but--Phyllis is always so practical--and you hate nursing, you know."

  "But he's in a hospital. He wouldn't need a nurse," protested Melissa.

  "Well, we'll see, dear," evaded the mother. "I'm not sure anybody can go yet. It's all a question of money. Do you really think you would like to ask a small loan for a few days from Amelia's mother?"

  "I certainly would," said Melissa cheerfully. "I'll go right away. I'll have to polish my shoes first and clean that spot off my suit, but I can get started in fifteen minutes, I guess."

  "Well, I'm going out to try out an idea," said Phyllis, picking up her coat and hat that had been lying on a chair in the little hall. "I won't tell you what it is, but it will either work or it won't, and I'll likely be back inside an hour or two at most."

  So they all went off, leaving Melissa dressing for a call on her fortunate friend's mother.

  Melissa looked very pretty as she finally put on the last touch to her hair and pulled her small dark blue hat on. Of course, her shoes and gloves were a bit shabby, but she couldn't help that, and they had once been the best of their kind.

  She hunted out her best handkerchief and put it into her handbag, with the two dollars that had been doled from the family treasury as her share for carfare and necessity.

  Just as she turned from a last survey of herself in the mirror, she heard a knock on the door.

  She hurried downstairs and found a good-looking young man standing impatiently, looking up at the front windows and then trying to peer through the muslin curtain Phyllis had pinned up last night for protection.

  As she swung the door open, she caught a glimpse of a large shiny blue car, much benickeled, standing in front of the house with a lady of ample proportions in a handsome furred coat sitting inside. Melissa always knew what people wore. It was the first thing she usually noticed.

  "Anybody by the name of Challenger live here?" demanded the good-looking man; and then getting a glimpse of Melissa he stepped back and lifted his hat.

  "I am Miss Challenger!" said Melissa, lifting her pretty patrician chin with composure. And then, suddenly aware of his quick glance of surprise into the empty little living room behind her, she explained, almost haughtily, "We don't live here. We're just staying here a few days while we look around for another apartment."

  "Well, I'm glad I've found you," said the young man. "I had all kinds of time and had almost given it up when I went into a butcher shop and found a man who said he knew you."

  "Oh, yes," said Melissa, the color stealing up into her fair cheeks again. She hoped he wouldn't think the butcher was a relative or anything. "We--he--" she began and then realized that she did not have to explain to a stranger, and the stranger wasn't wanting an explanation.

  "Well, my name's Hollister, Gene Hollister. Perhaps you've heard of my brother, Jack Hollister. I believe he's a classmate of your brother Steve, or a fraternity brother or something. But anyway, he went on the same joyride last night, and now he's in the same hospital with a busted rib and a nasty cut around his eye. And he called me up this morning and suggested some of Steve's folks might like to drive up with us today, so I came around to see. Tried to get you on the
phone but couldn't get a response, so we just drove around. Any of the family like to go? My mother's out in the car with me, and she says you're mighty welcome."

  Melissa eyed the wonderful high-powered car and the lady in the deep furs and gasped. What an opportunity!

  "Oh, how wonderful of you!" she exclaimed. "But--Mother's not here. I don't know what to say. She went out to telephone the college about Steve. There isn't any phone in this funny little house. How soon do you start?"

  "Why, we're on the way now. Sorry to hurry you, but the Mater is all kinds of anxious of course to see the kid and make sure he isn't hurt seriously. How soon will your mother be back?"

  "Oh, I don't know. She didn't know what to do about Steve when she left. She had to see Father first. He's in the hospital, getting well of a long illness. I don't know when she will be back. If she only were here--but you ought not to wait. She mightn't be back all the morning. I'm not sure she could get away from Father to go. And my sister isn't here, either."

  "Well, why don't you go yourself? It would be a nice ride, and it's a cinch your brother would be glad enough to see you." He added this with an almost too-admiring glance at Melissa.

  Melissa was all in a flutter.

  "Oh!" she said excitedly. "I don't know what Mother would think. I suppose I might, but--"

  "Oh, your mother wouldn't care. She'd be glad you had the chance to go so soon. You say she wasn't sure she could get away today? She would surely be glad to have you go well chaperoned"--and he waved his hand toward the stout woman in the furs. "The Mater would like company, I know. Come on, you can leave a note. Aren't you all ready to go? Run up and put your toothbrush in your bag and come on. We ought to be getting started." He glanced at his watch and beamed persuasively upon her with his great black eyes so flattering. Melissa had never had eyes flatter her so.

  "But--Mother intended my sister should go, in case she couldn't," Melissa said, looking troubled.

  "But your sister isn't here, you say. Surely one sister is as good as another. Besides, we can't wait for somebody to come. Here, take my pen and this leaf from my notebook and write a line. Say you'll wire when you get there and you are in good hands, or shall I write it?"

  "Oh, no, thank you," said Melissa, accepting the pencil and going over to the table to write. Then she hesitated again.

  "What's the matter now, sister?" urged the young man. "We're wasting good traveling time, and your brother is probably having a fit this minute because some of his family haven't arrived. You aren't afraid to go with strangers, are you?"

  "Oh, no," laughed Melissa assuredly. "I know who you are. I've seen your picture in Steve's college album. You were football captain last year, weren't you?"

  "Sure thing!" beamed the handsome young giant. "Now, get a hustle on, sister."

  "Well, I was just thinking," said Melissa anxiously. "I haven't very much money in the house, not enough to go on a journey. I don't know as I could go until Mother comes."

  "Oh, forget it," laughed the young man. "I have all kinds of money with me. I can lend you all you want. Besides, you won't need anything. You're going in the car."

  "When," asked Melissa with sudden new anxiety, "are you coming back? I would have to tell Mother that. She would be anxious."

  "Oh, we're coming back day after tomorrow, sure thing. The Mater has a bridge party at the house the next day, so, you see, she couldn't stay any longer."

  With fear and trembling Melissa ran upstairs and hunted out her mother's little overnight bag in which she carried things to the hospital for Father, flung her night things and her only other good dress into it excitedly, wondering all the while whether she was doing wrong. She wrote only a brief explanation:

  Dear Mother:

  The mother and brother of a classmate of Steve's are driving up to college and have asked me to go along. I thought this would help out a lot as it doesn't cost me anything. I'll phone or wire when I get there. We are coming back day after tomorrow. Hoping you will think I did the best thing. They were in a hurry, so I had no time to decide.

  Lovingly,

  Lissa

  She carried the note down and laid it on the dining table where they would be sure to see it at once, then locked the house and went out with her heart in her mouth to that great shiny car, almost trembling visibly from the excitement of it all. She, Melissa Challenger, taking decisions like this into her own hands and going off in a great expensive car!

  "I'll have to ask you to stop a minute at the butcher shop," she explained to the young man as he took her shabby little bag from her and helped her down the steps so gallantly. "I'll have to leave the key with him and ask him to give a message to my mother about the order he will be sending up."

  "Oh, sure! It won't take long, will it?"

  So Melissa rushed into the butcher shop and up to the pleasant-faced butcher. He drew away from the customer he was serving and leaned over so that she would not have to talk loud. "Oh, Mr. Brady," she said sweetly, "may I trouble you to do one thing more for us? My brother was hurt last night in an accident--"

  "Yes, the kid told me on his way to school," said the kindly voice gravely. "He said he didn't know whether your ma was going up or not."

  "No, she wasn't sure she could. It costs a lot to travel, and you know we are rather poor just now, but I've got a chance to go for nothing, and I'm going. The family of a classmate of my brother's is going up to visit him, and they asked me to go with them. Mother and the rest are all away, and I can't stop to explain, so I'm just leaving the key here. Would you mind watching for them and giving it to them? I've left a short note at the house, but I thought they might feel better about my going so suddenly if you told them you had seen me."

  "H'm!" said Brady, eyeing her anxiously. "You know the chap you're going with?"

  "Well, not exactly know him, but I've seen his picture, and Steve has of course spoken of his brother, the roommate."

  Brady cast an appraising glance out of the door at the expensive car.

  "That the chap that came here asking for you?" he asked.

  "Why, yes, I guess it is," granted Melissa. She was beginning to feel a trifle out of breath with the suddenness of it all.

  "Got any money?" Brady seemed to search down to her very soul for the answer.

  Melissa colored uncomfortably.

  "Oh, I shan't need money," she said airily. "We're driving, you know, and they are bringing me back day after tomorrow."

  "How much you got?"

  "Two dollars," said Melissa haughtily, as if she had said two thousand.

  "Well, here," said Brady, pulling out a fat roll of bills from his pocket and peeling off a few, "there's fifty. Take that and pin it in your dress somewheres, and don't let anybody know you got it, understand? I can't let your mother's little girl run off alone this way with strangers and no money. Here's a piece of wax paper; wrap it up and pin it inside your dress. You go in the back there by my desk and fix it up. Quick!"

  "Oh, Mr. Brady!" said Melissa with very red cheeks. "I couldn't think of taking your money. Mother wouldn't like it at all. You've done altogether too much for us already."

  "Nonsense! You're not taking it; you're only having it with you in case of emergency. You don't need to use it unless you have to. You can give it back to me when you get home if you don't need it, but I'll feel safer and so will your mother if you have it along. And don't you let that chap know you got it, hear? He may be all right, but what he don't know won't hurt him, see?" From under the lapel of his coat he produced two safety pins. "Now run along back there and fix it up, and I'll take a look at the car you're going in so I can tell your family about it."

  Melissa somehow felt she had to obey, and she hurried back, for she did not want to keep these kind strangers waiting.

  Brady was stalking leisurely in from the door as she came out of the little alcove where the desk was, feeling much more confident, truly, with that bit of wax paper pinned safely inside her dress.

 
; "Who's the dame?" he asked Melissa as she tried to thank him with her best smile.

  "His mother."

  "H'm! Well! You take care o' yerself!" he admonished and then stood in the door and watched her with a troubled frown as the big car started away from the door.

  Melissa felt a little like crying as she settled back on the soft cushions and realized that she was really started on a journey in this wonderful car. She looked back at the big troubled butcher there in his doorway and waved a little white hand at him, and then she took a deep breath to choke back those excited tears.

  What would her mother say when she got home and read that note? What would they all say? Would they think she had done right? Well, for once, she, Melissa Challenger, had taken things in her own hands and gone ahead without waiting for anybody!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mrs. Challenger started out to the corner drugstore where there was a telephone booth. She shivered as she went down the badly paved street, stepping carefully because the bricks were so uneven.

  The sunshine was bright and warmer than yesterday, but she felt cold to the bone and sick at heart. The outside air seemed to strike a chill through her, and there was a frightened feeling at the pit of her stomach. It seemed to her that she could not drag her heavy heart through another day of anxiety and uncertainty. It was all right to say be thankful because John was getting better, was undoubtedly past the danger point now, unless some bad setback came! But supposing there was no place to take him for that year of utter quiet and rest that the physician said was an absolute necessity to his regaining his normal health again?