Ben Pepper Part 61

"To think of your giving up your chance," at last Mrs. Fisher said brokenly; "it isn't right, Ben. Can't you see you ought not to do it?"

"But it _is_ right," said Ben, st.u.r.dily recovering himself when he saw that his mother could really talk about it. "I'm to be a business man, and I'm going to begin at the very bottom, as an errand boy, or an office boy, and work up." Here he straightened his square shoulders as if already pretty near the top of things.

"Ah, Ben, my boy," Mrs. Fisher raised her head to look at him, "all you can get in the way of education helps you on just so much."

"And I can have all these years I'd be spending at college in learning the business," Ben hurried on, feeling if he didn't say something, he should surely break down; for there was such a world of pleading in the black eyes that he didn't dare to trust himself to look into them.

"Don't you see, Mother? Besides,--well, I just _can't_ do it."

When Ben called her "Mother," it always meant something requiring grave attention. So Mrs. Fisher knew as well then as afterward that it was a decided thing that Ben was to leave school and go into a business life.

All she said now was, "Come," leading the way to the roomy old sofa, where the children used often to tell their troubles or joys to her as they sat side by side.

When Ben emerged from his mother's room, he held his head high, but his breath came hard, and one fist deep in his pocket was clenched tightly.

"Halloo!"--Joel plunged into him; "where've you been?" And, not waiting for a reply, "Grandpapa says I'm to go if you'll go with me,"--he swarmed all over him in his eagerness.

"Get off, Joe!" cried Ben, roughly. It seemed as if he couldn't bear any more just then, and he gave him, without stopping to think, a little shove.

Joel looked at him with very wide eyes.

"You're always hanging on to me," went on Ben, crossly, not realizing a word he was saying. "Goodness me, a chap can't stir but you must pop up."

Joel stood perfectly still, plastered against the wall, his mouth open, but not equal to uttering a word, as Ben stalked on down the hall.

"Oh, you think you're smart, I s'pose," at last it came in a burst behind him. "Well, I don't want you to go with me, Mr. Ben Pepper--Mr.

Ebenezer Pepper." Joel could hardly get the long name out, being so wholly unaccustomed to its use. "And I will tell Grandpapa I wouldn't have you go with me for anything."

"Joel!" Ben called hoa.r.s.ely after him, whirling in his tracks to see Joel fly down the hall. "Oh, come back."

"You aren't going," declared Joel, savagely, and stopping long enough to snap his fingers at Ben, "no-sir-ee, not a single step!" And despite all Ben's efforts he pranced off with a final jump that defied pursuit.

Ben stood perfectly still for a moment, then strode off up to his room, where he locked the door fast, went over and sat on the side of the bed, and buried his face in his hands.

How long he sat there he never knew. The first thing that brought him to himself was Polly's voice, and her fingers drumming on the door.

"Bensie, are you here? O dear me! _Do_ open the door."

Ben took up his head at first with the wild thought that he wouldn't answer. But then, it was Polly calling, and such a thing as a locked door between them would never do. So he staggered off as best he might, not seeing his pale face in the mirror as he went by, and slowly turned the key.

"Oh, Ben! O dear me! What is it?" Polly cried, quite aghast at his face.

She huddled up to him and grasped his arm. "Tell me, Ben," and the fright at seeing him thus drove every bit of color from her face.

"Nothing," said Ben, shortly, "that is--"

"Oh, now you are sick," cried Polly, quite wildly, and with another look into his face, usually so ruddy, she tore off her hands and raced toward the stairs. "I shall call Mamsie."

"Polly, Polly!" cried Ben, rus.h.i.+ng out after her, "you must not call Mamsie. I'll tell you all about it, Polly. Polly, do come back."

But she didn't hear anything but the first words, that Mamsie must not be called, and feeling more sure than ever by this that Ben was really sick, she redoubled her speed and rushed into Mother Fisher's room, crying, "Oh, Mamsie, do come quickly; something is the matter with Ben."

Mrs. Fisher had sat down resolutely to her sewing after the decision had been made by Ben that put aside all her hopes for his future education.

She now sprang to her feet, upsetting the big work-basket, and forgetting Polly, said, "It's been too much for him."

"What's been too much?" cried Polly, hanging to Mother Fisher's hand, her heart going like a trip-hammer. "Oh, Mamsie, what _is_ the matter with Ben?" The room seemed to go round with her and everything to turn black.

"Polly," said Mrs. Fisher, firmly, "I cannot tell you anything now. You must stay here. I am going to see Ben." And Polly, left alone, had nothing to do but throw herself on the big, old sofa, where she crouched in her distress till Mamsie should come back and tell her all about the dreadful mystery.

For that something awful had happened to Ben, Polly was now quite sure, as she lay there, her head burrowed in the big pillow, the wildest thoughts running through her brain. The first thing she knew, a hard little hand was tucked into her neck. She knew Joel's tickles, that he loved to give her, long before he sang out, "Polly Pepper, lying down in the daytime! Aren't you ashamed?"

"Oh, Joel," cried Polly, in a smothered voice; "do go away," she begged.

For answer Joel slid to his knees and crowded his chubby face into the pillow. "Are you sick, Polly?" he cried, in an awe-struck voice.

"No," said Polly, wriggling hard to keep him from seeing her face; "do, please, go away, Joey."

"I know you're sick," contradicted Joel, stubbornly; and bounding to his feet, "Where's Mamsie?" peering all around the room.

Polly didn't answer, being unwilling to tell about Ben.

"Well, I shall go and find her," declared Joel, decidedly, preparing to rush off.

"You must not," cried Polly, bounding up to sit straight. "You mustn't and you can't, because--"

"Because what?" demanded Joel, coming back to the sofa to fasten his black eyes on her face.

"Oh, because--" began Polly, again casting frantically about in her mind what to say and twisting her handkerchief with nervous fingers.

"Now I know that my Mamsie is sick and you're keeping it from me," cried Joel, in a loud, insistent voice, "and I shall go and find her; so there, Polly Pepper."

"Joel, if you do," began Polly, desperately, seizing his jacket-end; then she knew he would have to be told when she saw his face, for nothing could be worse than to let him think anything had happened to Mamsie. "I'll tell you all about it," she promised; "do sit down," and she pulled him into the corner of the big sofa by her side; "you see it's about Ben."

Joel whirled around and fixed wide eyes of astonishment upon her.

"And I don't know in the least," said Polly, brokenly, "what's the matter with him. He acts so funny, Joel, you can't think," she brought up, mournfully, while she twisted her poor handkerchief worse than ever.

Joel pushed his face up to scan her thoughtfully to see if there were anything more forthcoming.

"And to think of it--Ben--" went on Polly in a fresh gust, "he's never acted so. O dear me! What can it be, Joel?"

In her distress she forgot that she was to comfort him, and she seized his arm and clung to it.

"It's me," blurted Joel, forgetting grammar and everything else, and pulling away from her, he slipped off the sofa and began a quick pace to the door.

"Where are you going?" Polly flew after him, and although he ran smartly, she had hold of his jacket-end. "Joel Pepper, you must _not_ go up to Ben's room. Mamsie wouldn't let me."

"But I made him bad," said Joel, his face dreadfully red and twitching violently to get free.

"_You made him bad_," repeated Polly, faintly, and, tumbling backward in surprise, she let the jacket-end go. "O dear me!"

"And I'm going to make him well," screamed Joel, plunging off. She could hear him clambering up over the stairs two at a time.