第87章 CHAPTER XVIII THE MOUNTAIN AND MAHOMET(2)

"Olive was in her little settin' room back of the shop. She was pretty pale, and her eyes looked as if she hadn't been doin' much sleepin' lately. Likewise I noticed--and it give me a queer feelin' inside--that her trunk was standin', partly packed, in the corner."

"The poor woman!" exclaimed Mrs. Phinney.

"Yes," went on her husband. "Well, I handed over the letter and started to go, but she told me to set down and rest, 'cause I was so out of breath. To tell you the truth, I was crazy to find out what was in that envelope and, being as she'd give me the excuse, I set.

"She took the letter over to the lamp and looked at it for much as a minute, as if she was afraid to open it. But at last, and with her fingers shakin' like the palsy, she fetched a long breath and tore off the end of the envelope. It was a pretty long letter, and she read it through. I see her face gettin' whiter and whiter and, when she reached the bottom of the last page, the letter fell onto the floor. Down went her head on her arms, and she cried as if her heart would break. I never felt so sorry for anybody in my life.

"'Don't, Mrs. Edwards,' I says. 'Please don't. That cousin of yours is a darn ungrateful scamp, and I'd like to have my claws on his neck this minute.'

"She never even asked me how I knew about the cousin. She was too much upset for that.

"'Oh! oh!' she sobs. 'What SHALL I do? Where shall I go? I haven't got a friend in the world!'

"I couldn't stand that. I went acrost and laid my hand on her shoulder.

"'Mrs. Edwards,' says I, 'you mustn't say that. You've got lots of friends. I'm your friend. Mr. Hilton's your friend. Yes, and there's another, the best friend of all. If it weren't for him, you'd have been turned out into the street long before this.'"

Mrs. Phinney nodded. "I'm glad you told her!" she exclaimed.

"She'd ought to know."

"That's what I thought," said Simeon.

"Well, she raised her head then and looked at me.

"'You mean Mr. Williams?' she asks.

"That riled me up. 'Williams nothin'!' says I. 'Williams let you stay here 'cause he could just as well as not. If he'd known that this other friend was keepin' him from gettin' here, just on your account, he'd have chucked you to glory, promise or no promise.

But this friend, this real friend, he don't count cost, nor trouble, nor inconvenience. Hikes his house--the house he lives in--right out into the road, moves it to a place where he don't want to go, and--'

"'Mr. Phinney,' she sighs out, 'what do you mean?'

"And then I told her. She listened without sayin' a word, but her eyes kept gettin' brighter and brighter and she breathed short.

"'Oh!' she says, when I'd finished. 'Did he--did he--do that for ME?'

"'You bet!' says I. 'He didn't tell me what he was doin' it for--that ain't Sol's style; but I'm arithmetiker enough to put two and two together and make four. He did it for you, you can bet your last red on that.'

"She stood up. 'Oh!' she breathes. 'I--I must go and thank him.

I--'

"But, knowin' Sol, I was afraid. Fust place, there was no tellin' how he'd act, and, besides, he might not take it kindly that I'd told her.

"'Wait a jiffy,' I says. 'I'll go out and see if he's home. You stay here. I'll be back right off.'

"Out I put, and over to the Berry house, standin' on its rollers in the middle of the Boulevard. And, just as I got to it, somebody says:

"'Ahoy, Sim! What's the hurry? Anybody on fire?'

"'Twas the Cap'n himself, settin' on a pile of movin' joist and smokin' as usual. I didn't waste no time.

"'Sol,' says I, 'I've just come from Olive's. She's got that letter from the Omaha man. Poor thing! all alone there--'

"He interrupted me sharp. 'Well?' he snaps. 'What's it say? Will the cousin help her?'

"'No,' I says, 'drat him, he won't!'

"The answer I got surprised me more'n anything I ever heard or ever will hear.

"'Thank God!' says Sol Berry. 'That settles it.'

"And I swan to man if he didn't climb down off them timbers and march straight across the street, over to the door of Olive Edwards's home, open it, and go in! I leaned against the joist he'd left, and swabbed my forehead with my sleeve."

"He went to HER!" gasped Mrs. Phinney.

"Wait," continued her husband. "I must have stood there twenty minutes when I heard somebody hurryin' down the Boulevard. 'Twas Cornelius Rowe, all red-faced and het up, but bu'stin' with news.

"''Lo, Sim!' says he to me. 'Is Cap'n Sol home? Does he know?'

"'Know? Know what?" says I.