Where Two Ways Met (11 page)

Paige awoke early in the morning, his subconscious mind probably telling him that he had important work to do that day, and it must all dovetail in, just exactly, or it wouldn’t work.

To his mother’s distress, he wasted very little time on breakfast, although he usually loved to linger with her over it. But he told her that he had promised to take June to the sick child, as her father had to use his car in another direction, and he must go to the bank on the way.

Mrs. Madison had learned well through the years that when her menfolk said something
must be
, with a certain set of lips and jaw, it would be of no further use to argue. So she made the most of the brief time allowed her and thanked the Lord that it was June and not Reva that Paige was taking on his morning drive.

The morning was bright and fresh, and the two young people hurried away eagerly, looking forward to bringing help and joy to that poor discouraged family.

June had on another blue dress, this time with little pink rosebuds on the blue cotton background, and a decorous little white panama sailor on her head. She was taking no more chances in casual garb.

She hurried into the house and came out to report.

“Nannie slept well all night, and her temperature is almost down to normal this morning. The nurse is going to sleep now and says she will be ready to take over by lunchtime, or later in the afternoon. I’ll tell you at noon when you return. There comes Mr. Shambley! He looks like a different man already. He walks almost steadily. I wonder if the doctor gave him some medicine to take if he feels faint or dizzy in town.”

“Yes, he gave it to him last night.”

“Well, brother, how are you feeling this morning?”

“Fine, I thank you. Did you succeed in getting the loan, Mr. Madison?”

“Oh yes, of course,” said Paige. “Here, let me help you into the car, and then I’ll hand it over. There, are you comfortable? Now, in this envelope is the interest, plus the next to the last installment on your principal. Put that in your pocket where you can get it out easily as soon as you get to the office where you pay it. And don’t worry about the last installment. When it comes due, I think I know where I can get it for you till you get on your feet. And now this other envelope has money you can put in your bank. For use right along till you get going on your job. You have a bank, haven’t you? Because it isn’t wise to carry much money around these days. There are too many crooks abroad. You have a bank?”

“I used to have,” said the man with a shamefaced droop of his head, “but when we got in all this trouble, I had to draw the money all out.”

“Oh well, it will be easy enough to open another account. Is it far from where you pay your mortgage?”

“No, just a few doors down the street.”

“Well, is there someplace there where you can sit while you wait for me? You know this will be rather tiresome, all this business, and you’ve been a sick man.”

“Why, there’s a drugstore nearby. I could get a glass of water if I feel faint.”

“That’s it! The very thing. Perhaps you better make it a cup of coffee and a sandwich, if you feel like it. And then suppose you stay there till I come. I’ll get away early if I can. That’s Marshall’s Drugstore, isn’t it? They have little booths there with seats and tables, and you can order your coffee and sit as long as you like.”

“I’ll do that,” said the sick man. “I thank you kindly. You seem to think of everything I need.”

“And here’s a fresh newspaper so you’ll have something to read till I get back. I may be able to manage it by half past eleven, perhaps sooner. But don’t you try any stunts on me. Remember you’re still a sick man, and you want to get really well so you can take that job we’re going to find for you. Here we are now. That’s the door you go in, isn’t it? Get that mortgage fixed up all right the first thing. Good-bye till I come back for you.” And with a smile, Paige drove off to the garage where he usually left his car.

With shaking, trembling steps Mr. Shambley entered the office where of late he had so often gone with fear and trembling, and with shoulders back and head up went over to the window where he usually looked after his mortgage.

He could see the look on the face of the man at the window, that iron jaw, and those cold eyes. Expecting, no doubt, that he was coming to plead further poverty and ask for leniency.

But Mr. Shambley, with Paige’s envelope in his hand, walked proudly up to the window and handed out the papers, like any man of self-respect, and then handed over the money, counting out the new bills that Paige had arranged—tens, twenties, and a couple of fifties.

“Oh,” said the man behind the window, “so you got around to paying on time, at last, did you?”

The quick color rolled up in the sick man’s sallow cheek.

“I always pay on time, when I have the money,” said Mr. Shambley, and his tone was almost haughty. “The last two payments I had been sick and lost my job.”

“Oh,” said the receiver, “well, we have to get ready for unexpected things like that, you know. Can’t expect a company to loan you money without interest. We are not in business for benevolence. You came mighty near losing your property, do you know it? I had orders if you didn’t pay before noon today to foreclose on you.”

Mr. Shambley turned away quietly, feeling suddenly faint and dizzy but knowing he had still other things to do before he could give way to this feeling.

Slowly and with his head up, he made his way out of the Chalmers office and walked down the street to his former bank. This was an exciting moment. He was going to deposit some money in his old account, and while it wasn’t really his money yet, but was merely borrowed, it gave him an added feeling of self-respect to do it.

There was a long line of people before each window when he entered the bank, and just to rest his trembling limbs and get his breath, he went and sat down on a vacant bench. Then, as soon as the line was nearing the end, he got up and took out his old bank book and his envelope of money.

But it was heartening to find that here, he was welcomed.

He may have felt shame when he drew out his last cent, but there had been no reproach connected with that, and now he was entering a deposit again. So the old cashier greeted him with a cheery good morning, and as he noted the three hundred dollars that were being deposited and wrote them down into the book, he added, “Glad to see you’re back again.”

Much cheered with the pleasant words and almost trembling with gladness of it, Mr. Shambley walked out of his bank with a smile on his face. His mortgage interest was paid and he had a small balance in the bank again. There was food in his home, milk and bread coming on the regular deliveries, his little girl was getting well, and he would soon be in shape to take another job. Why should he feel so shaken? Oh, he had one more duty. He was to go to the drugstore and get some coffee. He had promised, and of course his new friend would be here after him soon. He must be in good shape to go home with him. He must show he could keep a promise.

Of course, he would like to go somewhere and inquire about a job. Perhaps after he had that coffee and a sandwich—but no, he must keep his promise. Besides, he was looking rather pale and feeble, and it might not be a good setup to try to get a job. He must get in good physical shape before he tried for a job. Nevertheless, he could inquire around a little if he saw anybody who seemed likely to know about jobs.

His trembling limbs carried him safely to the drugstore where he was to meet Madison, and he slipped quietly into a vacant booth and smiled pleasantly into the eyes of the boy who came to take his order.

“Give me a cup of coffee. Yes, cream and sugar, please. And have you got any sandwiches?”

“Oh, sure, ham or cheese or both? Peanut butter, too.”

“Give me one of each,” said the man who had been going practically without food himself that his family could have the few crumbs that his poverty might provide.

“I’ve got to get well and strong as soon as I can,” he told himself as he munched the sandwiches slowly and took great heartening swallows of the hot coffee. It seemed to him that he had never eaten anything so good. Of course, that soup and coffee last night was wonderful, but after all, he couldn’t rightly savor it then, because there had been that mortgage looming with only a stranger’s promise of the money to pay it. But now the interest was paid, and the next to the last installment principal, and he was going to get well and get a job, and now he could really enjoy eating and drinking.

He glanced at the clock over the door. It was half past eleven. The young man wouldn’t be there until twelve at least, would he? There would be time for another cup of coffee and a couple more sandwiches. That would fortify him for the ride home, and then if all went well, he would take a good long nap, and then he would try to go out and see if there was any chance of a job somewhere. If he could only get to work right away and begin to return some of that borrowed money, then after a while he could begin to live again. For as things were now, he was really no better off than he had been yesterday. But he could feel new strength going through him. He would be well very soon.

It was ten minutes to twelve when Paige walked into the store and singled out his man, who was just swallowing the last drop of coffee, and actually, there was a new look to him that showed even at a distance.

“Well, brother, how did it go?” he asked, with a keen look into the man’s face. For to tell the truth, Paige had been tormented all the morning lest he ought not to have trusted this stranger with so much money. Suppose he should go and get drunk or go off somewhere and have a good time, spend all that money wildly? Then he would have a right to blame himself with having been rash. He hadn’t even told June how much he was lending the man. He must have been crazy, he told himself when he thought it over.

Then hard work had begun, and there came up more than one case where furtive words were spoken that showed that Harris Chalmers was not inclined to be lenient with any of his customers, and more than one man was turned away without a receipt for his mortgage money, or without a deed for his property, because he had pleaded that he could not pay all he owed that day. More and more the matter of the business itself began to worry the young man. Of course it was not in any sense his responsibility, yet if he knew these things to be going on, how could he possibly sell, or urge upon poor men to buy, and that he knew he was supposed to do?

So the morning had dragged anxiously for Paige, and he was greatly relieved to see his man safe and sound, apparently enjoying some food, and not in the least drunk. Also, he was delighted when his protégé, looking up, recognized him with a hitherto unproduced smile that really made him almost good looking.

“Oh,” said Shambley, with almost a ring of triumph in his voice, “it went fine. Thanks to you!” he added shyly. “I tell you it does make a difference for a man to go anywhere with money in his pocket. At least,” he added with almost a sigh, “till one remembers that it is only borrowed and will have to be paid back before long—and—I haven’t any job!”

“There, there!” said Paige, like a mother to a sick child. “Don’t begin that yet. That will all come in good time, and you’ll be able to see it through. Come. Are you through here? Is this paid for? Because I think we better hurry. I’ll have to get back to my office later, you know.”

“Oh, yes, it’s paid for, thanks be!” said the erstwhile man of poverty. “I paid for it before I began to eat. You see, I’ve learned my lesson.”

Paige smiled and led the way out to the car.

When they were seated and had made their way out of the thick of traffic, Paige said, “Well, how did the rest go? Have you any question about your mortgage?”

Shambley looked up with a sort of a sheepish grin and shook his head.

“No,” he said slowly, “only I thought they looked surprised. The man tried to be a bit sarcastic at first, but when he saw my roll of bills come out, he began to sing a different song.”

“Yes?” said Paige, with a grin. “Well, that’s the way to get the best of them. And did you go to the bank?”

“I certainly did. And you would have thought I was their long-lost brother, or the prodigal son, or something, the way they welcomed me.”

“Well, that’s nice. Now let’s keep it that way. No, don’t look worried. You’ll soon have a job. And now tell me your life history, your working history, I mean. What work have you done?”

“Well, a little of almost everything,” said Shambley. “Of course, when I came back from World War I, I had to take whatever I could get for a while, same as you do today, but I worked around on a farm for a few months, and then I got me a job in an office, doing bookkeeping.”

“Oh, are you a bookkeeper?”

“Yes, and they said I was pretty good. I’ve got some recommendations that might come in handy. And besides all that, I’m kind of handy with tools. Been a machinist now and again.”

“Well, that sounds good. We’ll see what we can do for you as soon as the doctor says you’re able to work. I imagine he’ll say you better begin at something out-of-doors until you get your health thoroughly established. Would you be willing to look after some gardens at first? Then you wouldn’t have to work a whole day always, if it seemed too hard on you.”

“Oh, sure! I could work at gardens. That wouldn’t tire me.”

“Well, we’ll see the doctor first. And for a start, I think my father could use you in his garden. He’s been quite sick this spring, and we’re trying to persuade him to go a little easy. He’s getting to be an old man and can’t stand so much anymore.”

So they talked happily as they went on their way, and Shambley was much cheered. But Paige was more and more troubled as he thought ahead and wondered what he was going to do about his wonderful job.

June came out, smiling to meet them as they drove up to the house.

“Nannie is decidedly better. Her temperature is down to ninety-nine, and she ate quite a nice lunch. The nurse has just come back, and she’s going to stay until tomorrow, at least. She is wonderful. And that kid brother is worth his weight in gold. He can do almost anything and do it well, and he’s willing as can be.”