The Outdoor Girls of Deepdale Part 30

"Yes," said the boy. "You see, I work through this part of the country. I peddle writing paper, pens, pins, needles and notions," he added, motioning to his pack. "I often stop at Nellie's house, and at her aunt's, too. They're my regular customers," he added, proudly, and with a proper regard for his humble calling.

"I'm doing pretty well, too," he went on. "I've got a good trade, and I'm thinking of adding to it. I'll take little Nellie back home for you," he offered. "I'm going that way. Sometimes, when I'm late, as I am to-day, her mother keeps me over night."

"That's nice," said Betty. "We really didn't know what to do with her, and we ought to be in Flatbush at my friend's aunt's house," and she indicated Mollie. "Will you go with your little friend?" Betty asked of the child.

"Me go wif Dimmie," was the answer, confidently given. "Dimmie know where I live."

"But can you walk?" asked Amy, as they all noticed that the boy's foot was quite badly cut.

"Oh, I guess I can limp, if I can't walk," he said, bravely. "If I had a bandage I might tie it up so I could put on my shoe. Then I'd be all right."

"Let me fix it," exclaimed Betty, impulsively. "I know something about bandaging, and we have some cloth and ointment with us. I'll bandage up your foot."

"Oh, I couldn't think of troubling you!" he protested. "I--I guess I can do it," but he winced with pain as he accidentally hit his foot on the stone.

"Now you just let me do it!" insisted the Little Captain. "You really must, and you will have to walk to take Nellie home. That will be something off our minds."

"Maybe we can get a lift," suggested the boy. "Often the farmers let me ride with them. There may be one along soon."

"Let us hope so--for your sake as well as Nellie's," spoke Grace. "It's really kind of you, and quite providential that we met you."

"Yes, ma'am," replied the boy, looking from one pretty girl to the other.

"I'll take care of Nellie. I've known her for some time, you see. I peddle around here a lot. My father's dead, I haven't got any relatives except a sick aunt that I go to see once in a while, and I'm in business for myself."

"You are quite a little soldier," complimented Betty, as she got out the bandages and salve. "You are very brave."

"Oh, I haven't got any kick coming," he answered, with a laugh. "Of course, this cut foot will make me travel slow for a while, and I can't get to all my customers on time. But I guess they'll save their trade for me--the regulars will.

"I might be worse off," the lad continued, after a pause. "I might be in as bad a hole as that fellow I saw on the train not long ago."

"How was that?" asked Betty, more for the sake of saying something rather than because she was interested. The boy himself had carefully washed out the cut at a roadside spring, and as it was clean, the girl applied the salve and was; skillfully wrapping the bandage around the wound. "What man was that?" she added.

"Why," said the boy, "I had a long jump to make from one town to another, and, as there weren't any customers between, I rode in the train. The only other pa.s.senger in our car was a young fellow, asleep. All of a sudden he woke up in his seat, and begun hunting all through his pockets.

First I thought he had lost his ticket, for he kept hollerin', 'It's gone! I've lost it! My last hope!' and all things like that. I was goin'

to ask him what it was, when he shouted, 'My five hundred dollar bill is gone! and out of the car he ran, hoppin' off the train, which was slowin' up at a station. That was tough luck, losin' five hundred dollars. Of course I couldn't do it, for I never had it," the boy added, philosophically, as he watched Betty adjusting the bandage.

CHAPTER XXI

THE LETTER

The effect of the boy's words on the girls was electrical. Betty paused midway in her first-aid work and stared at him. Grace, who had, unconsciously perhaps, been eating some of her chocolates, dropped one half consumed. Amy looked at Betty to see what the Little Captain would do. Mollie murmured something in French; just what does not matter.

"Did--did he really lose a five hundred dollar bill?" faltered Betty, as she resumed her bandaging, but her hands trembled in spite of herself.

"Well, that's what he said," replied the boy. "He sure did make an awful fuss about it. I thought he was crazy at first, and when he ran and jumped off the train I was sure of it."

"Did he get hurt?" asked Amy, breathlessly.

"No, ma'am, not as I could see. The train was slowing up at a station, you know. I think it was Batesville, but I'm not sure."

"That's the next station beyond Deepdale," murmured Grace.

"What's that, ma'am?" asked the boy, respectfully.

"Oh, nothing. We just know where it is, that's all. A five hundred dollar bill! Fancy!" She glanced meaningly at her companions.

"Well, that's what he hollered," said the boy. "And he was real excited, too."

"Did you know him?" asked Betty, as she finished with the bandage.

"Never saw him before nor since. It was quite some time ago. I'd just bought a new line of goods. Anyhow, I'm glad it wasn't me. I couldn't afford to lose many five hundred dollar bills," and he laughed frankly.

"That's about as much as I make in a year--I mean, altogether," he said, quickly, lest the girls get an exaggerated notion of the peddling business. "I can't make that clear, though I hope to some time," he said, proudly.

"Me want to go home," broke in little Nellie. "Me want my muvvers."

"All right, I'll take you to your real mother," spoke the boy peddler. "I guess I can walk now, thank you," he said to Betty. "Couldn't I give you something--some letter paper--a pencil. I've got a nice line of pencils,"

he motioned toward his pack.

"Oh, no, thank you!" exclaimed Mollie.

"We are only too glad to help you," added Betty. "You have done us a service in looking after the little girl."

"To say nothing of the five hundred dollar bill," added Grace, in a low tone.

"Hus.h.!.+" cautioned Betty, in a whisper. "Don't let him know anything about it."

"And you are sure you wouldn't know that man again?" asked Mollie. "I mean the one you spoke of?"

"Well, I'd know him if I saw him, but I'm not likely to. He was tall and good looking, with a little black mustache. He got out of the train in a hurry when he woke up. You see, he was sitting with his window open--it was very hot--he fell asleep. I noticed him tossing around in his seat, and every once in a while he would feel in his pocket. Then he hollered."

"Maybe someone robbed him," suggested Betty, yet in her heart she knew the bill she had found must belong to this unknown young man--the very man to whom they had once given something to eat.

"No one was in the car but him and me," said the boy, "and I know I didn't get it. Maybe he didn't have it--or maybe it fell out of the window. Anyhow, he cut up an awful row and rushed out. He might have dreamed it."

"Me want to go home!" whined Nellie.

"All right--I'll take you," spoke the boy. "I can walk fine now. Thank you very much," and he pulled on his shoe, gingerly enough, for the cut was no small one. Then, shouldering his pack, and taking hold of Nellie's hand--one having been refilled with chocolates by Grace--the boy peddler moved off down the road limping, the girls calling out good-bys to him.

"I hope it's all right--to let that child go off with him," said Mollie.

"Of course it is," declared Betty. "That boy had the nicest, cleanest face I've ever seen. And he must suffer from that cut."

"Oh, I think it will be all right," said Amy. "You could trust that boy."