Chapter 23

JIM.

For various reasons, after a flourishing existence of two winters, the G.N. Club was given up, or perhaps it should be said was merged in the Order of the Big Front Door, which still held monthly meetings, and whose members wore their silver keys and tried in different ways to carry out their motto.

There was hardly time in the press of school work for the weekly meetings, and, besides, out of the little club had grown what was known as the Boys' Civic League, an organization among schoolboys, in which, under the direction of one of their professors, they studied the history of their own town and pledged themselves to do all they could for its welfare. So, as Mrs. Howard wished it, the Good Neighbors gave up their club and joined the League.

They still considered themselves her boys, however, and a week seldom passed in which some of them did not spend an hour with her. They owed more than they knew to her companionship, for in varying degrees her love for what was pure and true had left its impress on their characters. Her interest in them had grown with their years, and she looked forward with regret to the next winter, when most of them would go away to school. She would miss their boyish devotion, and she dreaded the temptations which they must so surely meet. Each one must fight his own battle, she knew, and she had not much fear for quiet, painstaking Will, or even for Carl, with all his faults; Ikey was still a good deal of a child, conscientious and open-hearted; but Aleck, with his brightness and indolence, and Jim, with his handsome face, engaging ways, and money, gave her most concern.

Three years had brought about some changes. Little John's place was vacant. A sudden sharp illness, and the frail life went out, leaving a sweet and gentle memory, for John had helped in ways he did not dream of. Every one of those merry girls and boys was more thoughtful and tender for the association with him. Seeing the pleasure their companionship gave him, they learned the value of simple friendliness. Fred Ames had gone to Chicago to live, and this reduced the members of the Order to ten, not counting, of course, the "Honoraries," as Miss Brown and Aunt Zelie were called.

"I can't imagine what ails Jim," Carl remarked at the lunch table one day, a week or two after Uncle William's birthday; "he wasn't at school and when I stopped there on my way home the man said he believed he had a headache and could not see anyone. That is not in the least like Jim."

"I see nothing so strange in that. A headache can be a very serious thing while it lasts," said his father.

"But if you had seen the man. He looked as if he were making it up."

"Much study has affected your imagination, Carl," laughed Cousin Helen.

"And what is the matter with you, then, Cousin Helen? Who sent Aunt Zelie a postal card with nothing on it but the address?" inquired Louise.

This caused a laugh, for Miss Hazeltine was just now the target for all the teasing her young relatives could contrive.

Always somewhat famous for her absent mindedness, now that she was soon to be married they chose to lay anything of the kind to the fact of her being so deeply in love.

"Let me tell you the latest joke," cried Aleck. "Last Sunday, when Mr. Arthur was here, they went to service at St. John's. The usher wanted to take them up front, but Sister Helen, being very modest, stopped at a seat half-way and asked politely, 'Can't we _occupew this py_?'"

"Aleck, you are too bad! I only half said it," exclaimed the victim, while the others shouted.

Bess and Louise were in the seventh heaven of delight at the prospect of being bridesmaids, and took a rapturous interest in all the preparations, their only regret being that Mr. Caruth was not to be the groom. Everybody was so occupied with other things that afternoon that Carl's remark about Jim was forgotten till he came in at dinner-time, looking very much excited.

"You won't think I am crazy now. The Carters have gone to smash, and it is reported that Mr. Carter tried to kill himself."

"Carl! How dreadful! Are you sure?" Aunt Zelie dropped her book in her astonishment.

"I am not altogether surprised," said Mr. Hazeltine, coming in. "He was known as one of the most reckless speculators in the country. His wealth was gained in that way, and now it has gone as it came."

"Think of poor Jim," said Carl.

"Poor boy! And yet it may not be the worst thing for him," added Mrs. Howard.

"What shall I do?" asked Carl. "I am awfully sorry for him, but I am afraid he won't want to see me, and I shouldn't know what to say, anyway. I wonder if he will have to give up college and everything. Poor Jim!"

Poor Jim, indeed! There could not have been found a more wretchedly miserable boy than he. The loss of their money he hardly thought of,--did not realize,--but the horrid notoriety of it all made him sick.

With burning face he read the sensational newspaper reports, and thought how the boys at school were talking about him--perhaps pitying him. He did not want their pity; he would rather have them indifferent. He wished he might never see any of them again.

Toward his father he felt a certain resentment. It was not true that Mr. Carter had tried to kill himself, but mind and body had given way under the long strain, and he was ill with brain fever.

Mrs. Carter was altogether unnerved by the suddenness of the calamity, so that she was not allowed in her husband's room. If it had not been for her Jim would have run away, but he was very fond of his mother. He was the chief object of her interest and affection since his sisters had married and left home. She laughingly declared that Jim could make her do anything, and certainly he brought about many improvements. She received good-naturedly his hints that Mrs. Howard did this, or that at the Hazeltines' things were done so. He could not desert her now that she had no one else to depend on.

Two dreadful days passed slowly, a number of his friends called to inquire, and left kind messages, for he would not see them. He spent his time strolling aimlessly through the handsome house, occasionally going in to see his mother. He was very gentle to her, though he found her lamentations hard to bear.

Late in the afternoon of the second day he sat in his room, trying to read. He was quite worn out with anxiety and loss of sleep, and was half-dozing, when his attention was attracted by a gleam of sunshine reflected in something on the table beside him. It was the little silver key. The words of the motto stared him in the face: "They Helped." How much it recalled to him--such pleasant companionships, and some real effort to be kind and useful! Was he going to fail now? Perhaps this was his great opportunity. If _he_ did not help, who would?

He stood up before the mirror, stretching himself to his full height,--a tall, broad-shouldered young fellow.

"Many a boy younger than I takes care of himself, and so can I, and of my mother too," and wide awake now he sat down to think.

On the table lay a note from Mrs. Howard, which he had only half read. He took it up now, and the warm affection it expressed, and the confidence that he would bear his trouble bravely, stirred his manliness--he would not disappoint her. "I have been a coward," he said, and with the same prompt decision which had surprised his companions on that Halloween so long ago he turned his back on his pride and useless regrets and became a man. When his father's brother arrived that night Jim met him, saw to his comfort, explained all he knew about the trouble, and asked such intelligent questions, with such an evident determination to help himself, that his uncle was greatly pleased.

There were weeks of anxious nursing while Mr. Carter hung between life and death, and his son, strong and gentle, made himself most useful in the sick-room. When at last the once sturdy, ambitious man struggled back to life he was only the wreck of what he had been.

Jim returned to school when his father was out of danger, as his uncle thought he ought to finish the term. He was very much subdued, but his companions appreciated his manliness, and gave him a warm welcome.

"He has lots of pluck," said Carl warmly; "he was as anxious to go to college as any of us, but he doesn't say a word about it now--says he is going to work this summer."

"I wish you would tell him how pleased I am with him," said Aunt Zelie. "I see so little of him lately, he seems almost shy."

The big house was sold, and when Mr. Carter could be moved he was taken to their new home, a little place that belonged to his wife. When everything was settled it was found that they would have a small income, enough to support two people in some degree of comfort. Then Jim's uncle, to everybody's surprise, offered to send him to college.

"I don't believe in it very much, but you are such a likely boy you may make something out of it, so if you want to go I'll foot the bills."

Jim brought the news one Friday night to a meeting of the O.B.F.D. It was early, and only Carl and his aunt were in the room.

"I shall work very hard, for I mean to pay Uncle James back some day," he said.

"That is right; I am sure you will, and I am glad for you and proud of you, for you deserve it," Aunt Zelie said earnestly.

"Are you really?" he asked humbly, but looking in his pleasure quite like his old self.

"Why, of course we are _all_ proud of you, boy," said Carl.

And Jim thought he had never been so happy before. He had discovered that there are some things better even than money.