The Enchanted Barn

by Grace Livingston Hill

  CHAPTER XXI

  Sidney Graham went back to the city the next morning. They all stoodout on the piazza to watch the big car glide away. Doris stood on therailing of the piazza with Shirley's arm securely about her and waved alittle fat hand; then with a pucker of her lip she demanded:

  "Fy does mine Mister Dwaham do way? I don't yant him to do way. Iyant him to stay wif me aw-ways, don't oo, Sirley?"

  Shirley with glowing cheeks turned from watching the retreating car andput her little sister down on the floor suddenly.

  "Run get your hat, Doris, and we'll take a walk on the sand!" she said,smiling alluringly at the child, till the baby forgot her grievance andbeamed out with answering smiles.

  That was a wonderful day.

  They all took a walk on the sand first, George pushing his mother in abig wheeled chair belonging to the cottage. Elizabeth was guide andpointed out all the beauties of the place, telling eager bits ofreminiscence from her childhood memories to which even George listenedattentively. From having been only tolerant of her George had now cometo look upon Elizabeth as "a good scout."

  When Mrs. Hollister grew tired they took her back to the cottage andestablished her in a big chair with a book. Then they all rushed offto the bath-houses and presently emerged in bathing-suits, Dorislooking like a little sprite in her scarlet flannel scrap of a suit,her bright hair streaming, and her beautiful baby arms and legsflashing white like a cherub's in the sunlight.

  They came back from their dip in the waves, hungry and eager, to thewonderful dinner that was served so exquisitely in the great cooldining-room, from the windows of which they could watch the lazy shipssailing in the offing.

  Doris fell asleep over her dessert and was tumbled into the hammock tofinish her nap. Carol and Elizabeth and the boys started off crabbing,and Shirley settled herself in another hammock with a pile of newmagazines about her and prepared to enjoy a whole afternoon oflaziness. It was so wonderful to lie still, at leisure and unhurried,with all those lovely magazines to read, and nothing to disturb her.She leaned her head back and closed her eyes for a minute just tolisten to the sea, and realize how good it was to be here. Back in hermind there was a pleasant consciousness of the beautiful yesterday, andthe beautiful to-morrows that might come when Sidney Graham returned,but she would not let her heart dwell upon them; that would be humoringherself too much, and perhaps give her a false idea of things. Shesimply would not let this wonderful holiday be spoiled by the thoughtthat it would have to end some day and that she would be back at theold routine of care and worry once more.

  She was roused from her reverie by the step of the postman bringing asingle letter, for her!

  It was addressed in an unknown hand and was in a fat long envelope.Wonderingly she opened it and found inside a bank book and blank checkbook with a little note on which was written:

  Dear Little Girl:

  This is just a trifle of that present we were talking about the otherday that belongs to you. It isn't all by any means, but we'll see tothe rest later. Spend this on chocolates or chewing-gum or frills orwhatever you like and have a good time down at the shore. You're abully little girl and deserve everything nice that's going. Don't betoo serious, Miss Shirley. Play a little more.

  Your elderly friend, Walter K Graham.

  In the bank book was an entry of five thousand dollars, on checkaccount. Shirley held her breath and stared at the figures with wideeyes, then slipped away and locked herself in the big white room thatwas hers. Kneeling down by the bed she cried and prayed and smiled allin one, and thanked the Lord for making people so kind to her. Afterthat she went to find her mother.

  Mrs. Hollister was sitting on the wide upper piazza in a steamer chairlooking off to sea and drawing in new life at every breath. Her bookwas open on her lap, but she had forgotten to read in the joy of allthat was about her. To tell the truth she was wondering if the dearfather who was gone from them knew of their happy estate, and thinkinghow glad he would be for them if he did.

  She read the letter twice before she looked at the bank book with itsastonishing figures, and heard again Shirley's tale of the happening inthe office the morning of the arrest. Then she read the letter oncemore.

  "I'm not just sure, daughter," she said at last with a smile, "what weought to do about this. Are you?"

  "No," said Shirley, smiling; "I suppose I'll give it back, but wasn'tit wonderful of him to do it? Isn't it grand that there are such menin the world?"

  "It certainly is, dear, and I'm glad my little girl was able to dosomething that was of assistance to him; and that she has won her wayinto his good graces so simply and sweetly. But I'm not so sure whatyou ought to do. Hadn't we better pray about it a bit before youdecide? How soon ought you to write to him? It's too late to reachhim before he leaves for California, isn't it?"

  "Oh, yes, he's just about starting now," said the girl. "Don't yousuppose he planned it so that I couldn't answer right away? I don'tknow his address. I can't do a thing till I find out where to write.I wouldn't like to send it to the office because they would probablythink it was business and his secretary might open it."

  "Of course. Then we'll just pray about it, shall we, dear? I'm notjust sure in my mind whether it's a well-meant bit of charity that weought to hand back with sincere thanks, or whether it's God's way ofrewarding my little girl for her faithfulness and quickness of action.Our Father knows we have been--and still are--in a hard place. Heknows that we have need of 'all these things' that money has to buy.You really did a good thing and saved Mr. Graham from great loss, youknow, and perhaps he is the kind of man who would feel a great dealhappier if he shared a little of it with you, was able to make somereturn for what you did for him. However, five thousand dollars is agreat deal of money for a brief service. What do you think, dear?"

  "I don't know, mother dear. I'm all muddled just as you say, but Iguess it will come right if we pray about it. Anyhow, I'm going to behappy over his thinking of me, whether I keep it or not."

  Shirley went thoughtfully back to her hammock and her magazines, asmile on her lips, a dream in her eyes. She found herself wonderingwhether Sidney Graham knew about this money and what he would wish herto do about it. Then suddenly she cast the whole question from her andplunged into her magazine, wondering why it was that almost anyquestion that came into her mind promptly got around and entangleditself with Mr. Sidney Graham. What did he have to do with it, anyway?

  The magazine story was very interesting and Shirley soon forgoteverything else in the pleasure of surrendering herself to the printedpage. An hour went by, another passed, and Shirley was still obliviousto all about her. Suddenly she became aware of a boy on a bicycle,riding almost up to the very steps, and whistling vigorously.

  "Miss Shirley Hollister here?" he demanded as he alighted on one footon the lower step, the other foot poised for flight as soon as hiserrand should have been performed.

  "Why, yes," said Shirley, startled, struggling to her feet and lettinga shower of magazines fall all about her.

  "Long distance wants yer," he announced, looking her overapathetically. "Mr. Barnard, of Philadelphia, wants to talk to yer!"and with the final word chanted nasally he alighted upon his obedientsteed and spun away down the walk again.

  "But, wait! Where shall I go? Where is the telephone?"

  "Pay station!" shouted the impervious child, turning his head over hisshoulder, "Drug store! Two blocks from the post office!"

  Without waiting to go upstairs Shirley, whose training had been toanswer the telephone at once, caught up Elizabeth's parasol that lay ona settee by the door, rumpled her fingers through her hair by way oftoilet and hurried down the steps in the direction the boy haddisappeared, wondering what in the world Mr. Barnard could want of her?Was he going to call her back from her vacation? Was this perhaps theonly day she would have, this and yesterday? There would always beyesterday! With a sigh she looked wistfully at the sea. If she hadonly
known a summons was to come so soon she would not have wasted asecond on magazines. She would have sat and gazed all the afternoon atthe sea. If Mr. Barnard wanted her, of course she would have to go.Business was business and she couldn't afford to lose her job even withthat fairy dream of five thousand to her credit in the bank. She knew,of course, she meant to give that back. It was hers for the day, butit could not become tangible. It was beautiful, but it was right thatit must go back, and if her employer felt he must cut short hervacation why of course she must acquiesce and just be glad she had hadthis much. Perhaps it was just as well, anyway, for if Sidney Grahamcame down and spent a few days there was no knowing what foolishnotions her heart would take, jumping and careening the way it had beendoing lately when he just looked at her. Yes, she would go back if Mr.Barnard wanted her. It was the best thing she could do. Thoughperhaps he would only be calling her to ask where she had leftsomething for which they were searching. That stupid Ashton girl whotook her place might not have remembered all her directions.

  Breathless, with possibilities crowding upon her mind, she hurried intothe drug store and sought the telephone booth. It seemed ages beforethe connection was made and she heard Mr. Barnard's dry familiar tonesover the phone:

  "That you, Miss Hollister? This is Mr. Barnard. I'm sorry to disturbyou right in the midst of your holiday, but a matter has come up thatis rather serious and I'm wondering if you could help us out for a dayor two. If you would we'd be glad to give you fifty dollars for theextra time, and let you extend your vacation to a month instead of twoweeks. Do you think you could spare a day or two to help us rightaway?"

  "Oh! Why, yes, of course!" faltered Shirley, her eyes dancing at thethought of the extra vacation and money.

  "Thank you! I was sure you would," said Mr. Barnard, with relief inhis voice. "You see we have got that Government contract. The newsjust came in the afternoon mail. It's rather particular businessbecause it has to do with matters that the Government wishes to keepsecret. I am to go down to-morrow morning to Washington to receiveinstructions, and I have permission to bring a trusted privatesecretary with me. Now you know, of course, that I couldn't take MissAshton. She wouldn't be able to do what I want done even if she wereone I could trust not to say a word about the matter. I would take JimThorpe, but his father has just died and I can't very well ask him toleave. Neither can I delay longer than to-morrow. Now the questionis, would you be willing to go to Washington in the morning? I havelooked up the trains and I find you can leave the shore at 8.10 andmeet me in Baltimore at ten o'clock. I will be waiting for you at thetrain gate, but in case we miss each other wait in the station, closeto the telephone booths, till I find you. We will take the next trainfor Washington and be there a little before noon. If all goes well weought to be through our business in plenty of time to make a fouro'clock train home. Of course there may be delays, and it is quitepossible you might have to remain in Washington over night, though Ihardly think so. But in case you do I will see that you are safe andcomfortable in a quiet hotel near the station where my wife's sister isstaying this summer.

  "Of course your expenses will all be paid. I will telegraph and have amileage book put at your disposal that you can call for right there inyour station in the morning. Are you willing to undertake this for us?I assure you we shall not forget the service."

  When Shirley finally hung up the receiver and looked about the littlecountry drug store in wonder at herself the very bottles on the shelvesseemed to be whirling and dancing about before her eyes. What strangeexciting things were happening to her all in such breathless haste!Only one day at the shore and a piece of another, and here she was witha trip to Washington on her hands! It certainly was bewildering tohave things come in such rapid succession. She wished it had come atanother time, and not just now when she had not yet got used to thegreat sea and the wonder of the beautiful place where they werestaying. She did not want to be interrupted just yet. It would not bequite the same when she got back to it she was afraid. But of courseshe could not refuse. It never entered her head to refuse. She knewenough about the office to realize that Mr. Barnard must have her.Jimmie Thorpe would have been the one to go if he were available,because he was a man and had been with Barnard and Clegg for ten yearsand knew all their most confidential business, but of course Jimmiecould not go with his father lying dead and his mother and invalidsister needing him; and there was no one else but herself.

  She thought it all out on the way back to the cottage, with a littlepang at the thought of losing the next day and of having perhaps tostay over in Washington a day and maybe miss the arrival of SidneyGraham, if he should come in a day or two, as he had promised. Hemight even come and go back again before she was able to return, andperhaps he would think her ungrateful to leave when he had been so kindto plan all this lovely vacation for her pleasure. Then she broughtherself up smartly and told herself decidedly that it was nothing tohim whether she was there or not, and it certainly had no right to beanything to her. It was a good thing she was going, and would probablybe a good thing for all concerned if she stayed until he went back tothe city again.

  With this firm determination she hurried up to the veranda where hermother sat with Doris, and told her story.

  Mrs. Hollister looked troubled.

  "I'm sorry you gave him an answer, Shirley, without waiting to talk itover with me. I don't believe I like the idea of your going to astrange city, all alone that way. Of course Mr. Barnard will lookafter you in a way, but still he's a good deal of a stranger. I dowish he had let you alone for your vacation. It seems as if he mighthave found somebody else to go. I wish Mr. Graham was here. Ishouldn't wonder if he would suggest some way out of it for you."

  But Shirley stiffened into dignity at once.

  "Really, mother dear, I'm sure I don't see what Mr. Graham would haveto say about it if he were here. I shouldn't ask his advice. You see,mother, really, there isn't anybody else that could do this but JimmieThorpe, and he's out of the question. It would be unthinkable that Ishould refuse in this emergency. And you know Mr. Barnard has beenvery kind. Besides, think of the ducky vacation I'll have afterward, awhole month! And all that extra money! That shall go to the rent of abetter house for winter! Think of it! Don't you worry, mother dear!There isn't a thing in the world could happen to me. I'll be the verymost-discreetest person you ever heard of. I'll even glance shyly atthe White House and Capitol! Come, let's go up and get dolled up forsupper! Won't the children be surprised when they hear I'm really togo to Washington! I'm so excited I don't know what to do!"

  Mrs. Hollister said no more, and entered pleasantly into the merry talkat the table, telling Shirley what she must be sure to see at thenation's capital. But the next morning just as Shirley was about toleave for the station, escorted by all the children, Mrs. Hollistercame with a package of addressed postal cards which she had made Georgeget for her the night before, and put them in Shirley's bag.

  "Just drop us a line as you go along, dear," she said. "I'll feelhappier about it to be hearing from you. Mail one whenever you have achance."

  Shirley laughed as she looked at the fat package.

  "All those, mother dear? You must expect I am going to stay a month!You know I won't have much time for writing, and I fully expect to beback to-night or to-morrow at the latest."

  "Well, that's all right," said her mother. "You can use them anothertime, then; but you can just put a line on one whenever it isconvenient. I shall enjoy getting them even after you get back. Youknow this is your first journey out into the world alone."

  Shirley stooped to kiss the little mother.

  "All right, dear! I'll write you a serial story. Each one continuedin our next. Good-by! Don't take too long a walk to-day. I want yourested to hear all I'll have to tell when I get back to-night!"

  Shirley wrote the first postal card as soon as she was settled in thetrain, describing the other occupants of the car, and ma
king a vividpicture of the landscape that was slipping by her windows. She wrotethe second in the Baltimore station, after she had met Mr. Barnard,while he went to get seats in the parlor car, and she mailed them bothat Baltimore.

  The third was written as they neared Washington, with the dim vision ofthe great monument dawning on her wondering sight in the distance. Herlast sentence gave her first impression of the nation's capital.

  They had eaten lunch in the dining car, a wonderful experience to thegirl, and she promised herself another postal devoted to that, butthere was no time to write more after they reached Washington. She wasput into a taxi and whirled away to an office where her work began.She caught glimpses of great buildings on the way, and gazed with aweat the dome of the Capitol building. Mr. Barnard was kind and pointedout this and that, but it was plain his mind was on the cominginterview. When Shirley sat at last in a quiet corner of a big darkoffice, her pen poised, her note-book ready for work, and looked at theserious faces of the men in the room, she felt as if she had beenrushed through a treasure vault of glorious jewels and thrust into thedarkness of a tomb. But presently the talk about her interested her.Things were being said about the vital interests of the country, scrapsof sentences that reminded her of the trend of talk in the dailypapers, and the headings of front columns. She looked about her withinterest and noted the familiarity with which these men quoted thewords of those high up in authority in the government. With awe shebegan her work, taking down whatever Mr. Barnard dictated, her fingersflying over the tiny pages of the note-book, in small neat characters,keeping pace with the voices going on about her. The detail work shewas setting down was not of especial interest to her, save that it wasconcerned with Government work, for its phraseology was familiar and apart of her daily routine office work at home; but she set every senseon the alert to get the tiniest detail and not to make the smallestmistake, understanding from the voices of the men about her that it wasof vital interest to the country that this order should be filledquickly and accurately. As she capped her fountain pen, and slippedthe rubber band on her note-book when it was over, she heard one of themen just behind her say in a low tone to Mr. Barnard:

  "You're sure of your secretary of course? I just want to give you thetip that this thing is being very closely watched. We have reason tobelieve there's some spying planned. Keep your notes carefully anddon't let too many in on this. We know pretty well what's going on,but it's not desirable just now to make any arrests until we can watcha little longer and round up the whole party. So keep your eyespeeled, and don't talk."

  "Oh, certainly! I quite understand," said Mr. Barnard, "and I have amost discreet secretary," and he glanced with a significant smiletoward Shirley as she rose.

  "Of course!" said the other. "She looks it," and he boweddeferentially to Shirley as she passed.

  She did not think of it at the time, but afterwards she recalled how inacknowledging his courtesy she had stepped back a little and almoststumbled over a page, a boy about George's age, who had been standingwithdrawn into the shadow of the deep window. She remembered he had akeen intelligent look, and had apologized and vanished immediately. Amoment later it seemed to be the same boy in blue clothes and giltbuttons who held the outer door open for them to pass out--or was thisa taller one? She glanced again at his side face with a lingeringthought of George as she paused to fasten her glove and slip hernote-book into her hand-bag.

  "I think I will put you into the taxi and let you go right back to thestation while I attend to another errand over at the War Department.It won't take me long. We can easily catch that four-o'clock trainback. I suppose you are anxious to get back to-night?"

  "Oh, yes," said Shirley earnestly, "I must, if possible. Mother isn'twell and she worries so easily."

  "Well, I don't know why we can't. Then perhaps you can come up to townto-morrow and type those notes for us. By the way, I guess it would bebetter for me to take them and lock them in the safe to-night. No,don't stop to get them out now"--as Shirley began to unfasten her bagand get the note-book out--"We haven't much time if we want to catchthat train. Just look after them carefully and I'll get them when weare on the train."

  He helped her into the taxi, gave the order, "To the station," andtouching his hat, went rapidly over to the War Department Building. Noone saw a boy with a blue cap and brass buttons steal forth on abicycle from the court just below the office, and circling about theasphalt uncertainly for a moment, shoot off across the park.

  Shirley sat up very straight and kept her eyes about her. She was gladthey were taking another way to the station so that she might see more.When she got there she would write another postal and perhaps it wouldgo on the same train with her.

  It was all too short, that ride up Pennsylvania Avenue and around bythe Capitol. Shirley gathered up her bag and prepared to get outreluctantly. She wished she might have just one more hour to go about,but of course that would be impossible if she wished to reach hometo-night.

  But before the driver of the car could get down and open the door forher to get out a boy with a bicycle slid up to the curb and touchinghis gilt-buttoned cap respectfully said:

  "Excuse me, Miss, but Mr. Barnard sent me after you. He says there'sbeen some mistake and you'll have to come back and get it corrected."

  "Oh!" said Shirley, too surprised to think for a minute. "Oh! Thenplease hurry, for Mr. Barnard wants to get back in time to get thatfour-o'clock train."

  The driver frowned, but the boy stepped up and handed him something,saying:

  "That's all right, Joe, he sent you this." The driver's face clearedand he started his machine again. The boy vanished into the throng.It was another of Shirley's after-memories that she had caught aglimpse of a scrap of paper along with the money the boy had handed thedriver, and that he had stuffed it in his pocket after looking intentlyat it; but at the time she thought nothing of it. She was only gladthat they were skimming along rapidly.