The Challengers

by Grace Livingston Hill

  "No," said Melissa, "I don't know anybody in Cliffordsville. I didn't even know it was Cliffordsville. It was too dark to read the signs when I got there. I didn't have any idea where I was except that it was a railroad station and there would likely be a train sometime. I was so tired I must have fallen asleep. I can't thank you enough for waking me. I don't believe I would have heard the train at all; I was just all in. I had been through a pretty awful experience, and I'd been out all night in the storm."

  "Oh, I'm sorry!" he said sympathetically, giving her a keen, quick look. "I thought your dress felt damp. Aren't you going to catch a terrible cold?"

  "Oh, I hope not," she said, looking down at her wrinkled coat. "I didn't get so very wet. You see, I took refuge in an old barn by the roadside during the worst, but afterward the trees were wet, and the grass in the fields where I had to walk. Oh--this sounds strange, doesn't it? I guess I'll have to tell you about it, if it won't bore you."

  "Of course not," said the pleasant voice, and he gave her another keen look.

  "Well, you see, my brother at college got hurt in an accident, and I went out to see him. I didn't know the people who offered to take me. They were the family of one of my brother's classmates, and their son had been hurt, too. They were to take me one day and bring me back the second day after.

  "I hadn't been long on the way before I wished I hadn't come with them. I was sure my mother wouldn't have approved. The young man was rather fresh, and his mother went to sleep part of the time, and I felt very uncomfortable. But it was worse the day we started back. I wouldn't have gone with them, only I wanted to save the money. I knew we couldn't afford the carfare, and I thought I had to stick it out. But when I got in the car, I found that a strange kind of girl was going back in place of the mother. She had on a great deal of makeup, she smoked cigarettes all the time, and I didn't like the way she acted at all. I was glad she was in the front seat with the man this time instead of myself, and I thought it was going to be much better than on the way out. There was another thing that troubled me, too: we had started five hours late and I knew my mother would be worrying about me. Then after about an hour of driving, we turned into the woods and came to a sort of cabin, and there was another young man there waiting on the porch with a case of liquor beside him. They loaded the case into the car right in front of me and put the young man in the backseat. I saw right away that he must be drunk. He was awful. He kept putting his head on my shoulder, and I couldn't get away from him. The people in the front seat didn't do a thing but laugh. They thought it was a good joke. Once when he tried to kiss me I screamed, and then they turned around and threatened to gag me if I made another sound. You see, by this time they had all been drinking a good deal, and they were mad because I wouldn't. And besides, they were afraid they were being chased. The young man who got in with the liquor told them the state police were around, and by and by we heard shots behind us."

  The gray eyes were watching her as she told her story. They had an angry light in them as the story went on.

  "And a thing like that can go on in a civilized country!" said Jenifer indignantly. "Do you know their names? Could you locate that cabin in the woods?"

  "Oh, I wouldn't want to try!" said Melissa, shivering and putting her hands before her eyes. "Yes, I suppose I could perhaps find it. I am sure I would know it when I saw it. And of course I know their names. But, oh, I don't want to ever see any of them again. Ought I to? Father would feel so dreadfully to know I had been through all this, and I wouldn't dare tell Mother all of it. She would never trust me out of her sight again. She would be frantic. She is probably frantic now. You see, I sent her a telegram that I would be home yesterday at three o'clock in the afternoon. She will think some awful thing has happened. But there hasn't been a chance to send another. I hoped the station would be open before the train came so I could let her know I am all right."

  "Why, we can do that at the junction," he said, looking at his watch. "We're due there in half an hour, and we have three quarters to wait for the express to the city. It's early yet. She won't be awake, will she? Or we might telephone."

  "I'm afraid she won't have been asleep at all yet," said Melissa with trouble in her eyes. "But, you see, there isn't any telephone. We're only there temporarily, waiting for Father to be well enough to come home, and we're hoping to find some place in the country."

  "I see," said Jenifer. "Well then, the wire is best. It will go through quickly so early in the morning. If this were an express, we could send the telegram right away from the train, but I guess the junction is the best we can do."

  "You've been wonderfully kind," said Melissa. "I don't know why I have bothered you with all my worries. I never talk to strangers, but somehow you don't seem like a stranger. I guess I'm kind of upset and silly with all I've been through."

  "Of course!" said Jenifer. "I'm glad I could help. I think it is always easier to have a friend by when things go wrong. I certainly would like to go out and hunt down those brutes that made your night such a wild experience. But perhaps we'd just better forget them and let you get some rest. Wouldn't you like to put your head back in this luxurious milk train and take another little nap before we get to the junction?"

  He spread his overcoat over the back of the seat for a pillow, and Melissa lay back and closed her eyes. But she could not sleep now. Her mind was alert again and tense. She was thinking of her mother and what they all would say to her when she got home, thinking of the narrow escapes she had had, dozens of them in the night that was past, and also in the days that were past since she left home. Then it occurred to her that something had seemed to be about her, preserving her at every turn. Though she had suffered with fright and exposure, from indignity and mortification, yet none of them had actually destroyed her, nor even really harmed her any, except to destroy her peace of mind and hurt her pride. It really was wonderful how she had escaped from her unpleasant traveling companions, how there had always been some kind of shelter when it rained the hardest, some help in every crisis--that barn when the storm was at its worst, the young man when the train was coming and she asleep.

  She looked at the young man by her side through the fringes of her lashes, studied the lines of his lean, pleasant face, and compared them to Gene Hollister. Here was a man that one could trust. Here was a man her father and mother would honor. She had no question in her mind about confiding in him. He was honorable. That was written in every line of his expression.

  Jenifer had taken out a book and pencil and was at work. Melissa dropped her veiled glance to see what he was doing and found to her amazement that he held a small limp-covered Bible in his hands and was writing in minute script little notes along its margin. She tried to make out the words without really opening her eyes but could not. What could it be that he was doing?

  He took out a little notebook from his pocket and copied things into the margin of the Bible here and there, fluttering the leaves over as if it was a familiar and beloved book. There was no mistaking the look of deep interest in what he was doing. He was not studying this from duty. It was something he earnestly desired to do, and his look was as of one delving deep in a chest of treasure and discovering new jewels the deeper he went. Melissa had never seen anyone look that way about a book, not even her father when he was deep in scientific study or had found some literary treasure in a musty tome. She marveled at it. What sort of young man was this one who had come so unexpectedly into her life, just apparently to save her from a trying place and help her on her way a little while?

  Then in the midst of her meditations the conductor came through, waving his unnecessary smoky red lantern and calling out to the sleepy passengers:

  "Next station, Marwood Junction! All change cars! This train goes no farther!" And all the sleepy passengers stretched and yawned and looked about them.

  Ian Jenifer closed his book, almost reluctantly it seemed, with a last lingering look at a verse he had just marked, and slipped it into the bag
at his feet. Then he turned toward Melissa, and finding her wide awake, he smiled. She noticed there was a kind of radiance behind his eyes that seemed to come from some hidden source. It seemed somehow that it was the look with which he had been reading the book, as if the book itself had reflected something from its words into his face.

  "Rested?" he said and smiled again. "Now we can send our telegram. Have you thought what you want to say?"

  "Oh! Yes," said Melissa, starting up. "I thought I'd say"--she tapped the words out on her fingers--" 'Unavoidably delayed, no telephone. Am all right. Home today.' "

  "Nothing could be better," said the young man. "That tells everything without telling a thing!" And he grinned genially. "Well, suppose you write it out with the address. I think there'll be time before the train stops. Here, take my pencil and write it in my notebook, and then I'll look after it for you as soon as we are landed and lose no time."

  Melissa wrote it and handed the book back. He read it and looked up at her interestedly.

  "Challenger!" he said. "That's a striking name. I don't believe I've ever heard it before, but it has a distinguished sound that I like. Then you're Melissa Challenger. I like that, too. You know, I have been introduced to you before. But come, we'd better get out of here and not let this mob get ahead of us. We'll need some time to get a bite to eat, too." He steered her to a small wooden room with a bench running all around and left her with the baggage while he went to send the telegram. Then he returned and piloted her outside and around to another door where a long counter was flanked by a row of high stools, which were fast filling up.

  Jenifer found a seat for Melissa, and then he stood just behind her waiting for the laborer who occupied the next stool to finish his coffee.

  The menu was simple and substantial: sausage, hotcakes with syrup, and coffee. Melissa fell upon hers with relish.

  "I hadn't much for lunch yesterday," she laughed. "I was afraid I would miss my escorts."

  "And no dinner at all, I can guess."

  "No dinner!" said Melissa. "I ran away just as dinner was about to be served."

  They found that they had to eat rather hurriedly after all, for by the time they were served the train was almost due, so there was little opportunity for talk.

  When they were seated at last in the express, Melissa looked up suddenly and asked: "Are you a minister, Mr. Jenifer?"

  She was still puzzling over his Bible study and the look on his face while he was reading.

  He looked up with a smile.

  "No," he answered, "I'm a construction engineer. That is, that's the way I earn my living."

  Melissa looked puzzled.

  "I don't understand," she said. "You were studying the Bible, and I thought scholars, real scholars, college people, didn't believe in the Bible anymore--unless of course they were ministers."

  "And why ministers?"

  "Well, of course, that's their business."

  "You mean either that ministers aren't scholars, or else they are not honest ministers?"

  Something in his tone brought the color to Melissa's cheeks.

  "Well--er--when I went to college, my professors thought, that is, they said that the Bible was a beautiful piece of literature of course, but they didn't accept it as the book of God."

  "No?" said Jenifer. "Well, were they Christians, Miss Challenger?"

  "Christians?" said Melissa. "What difference would that make, if they were scholars?"

  "All the difference in the world," said Jenifer earnestly. "The Bible itself says: 'But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.' To a man who is spiritually dead, the Bible would mean nothing. He couldn't understand it. It would be full of contradictions."

  "But isn't it full of contradictions?" asked Melissa.

  "No," said Jenifer. "To one who is born again and has received 'the spirit which is of God' that he might 'know the things that are freely given to us of God,' there isn't a contradiction from beginning to end. It is like a great picture puzzle that fits together perfectly to form the picture of the God-Man, Christ Jesus. But it is a great subject. One cannot explain all that in a few minutes."

  "Yes," sighed Melissa, "I can see it must be. You used several phrases I never heard before and don't understand. I guess I must be one of those 'spiritually dead' ones." And she gave a little embarrassed laugh, for indeed it was to her as if he were talking in an unknown tongue.

  He turned eager eyes upon her.

  "What were they? I'll be glad to explain."

  "Well, that about receiving the Spirit of God. Is that a sort of spiritualism?"

  "No," he said gently. "The Holy Spirit is a Person of the Godhead, who takes the things of Christ and shows them unto us, makes them plain to us. He dwells in every child of God."

  "Child of God?" said Melissa wonderingly. "That's another strange phrase. That must have something to do with the being 'born again' that you spoke of!" She ended with a little laugh as if it were some strange kind of joke.

  "It certainly has," answered Jenifer heartily. "You see, everybody born into the world is dead in sins. One must be born again to be fit for heaven."

  "How on earth could that be?" asked Melissa, now thoroughly astonished and bewildered.

  For answer, Jenifer reached for his worn Bible once more. His fingers seemed to caress the pages as he turned them quickly and pointed to a few lines.

  " 'But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name,' " read Melissa.

  "Now, you tell me," said Jenifer, smiling, "how does one become a child of God?"

  Melissa's eyes went back to the verse.

  "It says, by receiving Him, believing 'on His name'--whose name?" she asked sharply.

  "The name of Jesus," Jenifer answered tenderly, "and Jesus means 'Savior.' "

  "Then I'm to believe that Jesus is my Savior? Is that it?"

  "That's all," said Jenifer with a ring to his voice as he noted the quick way in which the girl applied the truth to herself. "And this is what makes Him your Savior and mine." He turned the pages again.

  " 'But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.' "

  "Oh!" cried Melissa. "That's what I did. I went astray and I went my own way! And yet," she went on, tears of wonder standing in her eyes, "God didn't punish me for it! He took care of me by sending you! And, do you mean He punished Him for what I did?"

  "That's exactly it," said Jenifer, watching her eagerly.

  There was silence for some time then as Melissa read over the words again and pondered the wonderful truth she had discovered, while a strange new joy mounted in her heart, and a song of thanksgiving arose beside her from the heart of the young man who had led her to his Lord.

  Then she began to ask questions, and the time sped away as they talked, till suddenly they were at their journey's end before they knew it.

  "I'd love to tell you more," said Jenifer eagerly as he gathered up their baggage, "for while I earn my living at engineering, my real business in life is to witness to others about my Lord Jesus. Might I come to see you sometime soon and maybe talk more?"

  "Oh, I wish you would," said Melissa earnestly. "I've never heard anything like this before. I don't believe my mother knows, either. If it is true, it would be wonderful! To just live and trust everything, day by day, and know it would be all right. It is too good to be true. It is not--earthly. It does not seem natural."

  "No, it is heavenly." He smiled. "But here, we must get off."

  "Now," said Jenifer as they reached the station, "we are going to get into a taxi and drive straight to your home. Your mother is not going to have to wait an extra second to
know that you are safe. Since God sent me to look after you, I consider it my right to be sure that you are safely landed in your mother's arms."

  He smiled down at her, and Melissa's face grew rosy with the pleasure of it. It was wonderful to be taken care of that way after her wild experience.

  "Oh, thank you," she said. "You have been wonderful to me!"

  "Not in the least. I'm quite selfish in this. I want to see you safe, and I want to see where you live so that I can come again if you will let me, and come soon."

  "That will be lovely," said Melissa. "I somehow feel as if I had known you ages. And I do want you to meet my mother and the family."

  So he put her into a taxi, and Melissa, well escorted, started on the last brief stage of her journey back to the little Brady house.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When Phyllis threw open the door and found the messenger boy standing there with a telegram in his hand, she fairly fell upon him and snatched the envelope from him. Bob and Rosalie had come home early on account of a short session, and Bob signed for the message, for Phyllis had torn open the envelope and was reading.

  "Oh, Mother, she's all right," she called as she rushed upstairs. "She says she was unavoidably detained where there was no telephone, but she is all right and she'll be home today. Hear that? There! Read it for yourself."

  Mary Challenger, with a great light breaking in her face, took the paper, holding it with shaking hands, and read. Then she looked up to where her children stood in breathless eagerness about her and said as if she were just thinking aloud: "Then He does answer prayer. God does answer prayer! Even my poor prayer!"

  Phyllis looked at her in amazement for an instant and then threw her arms about her and crushed her in a big hug.

  "Of course He does," said Rosalie radiantly. "He began with the beefsteak and onions, and He's going to do all the rest, I'm sure."

  "Aw, gee! Didn't ya all know that? What's all the excitement about?" put in Bob.