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Coburn hung up. The telephone rang instantly. He was on the way out, but he turned back and answered it. Janice's voice amazingly convincing came from the instrument. And at the first words his throat went dry. Because it couldn't be Janice. "I've been trying to get you. Have you tried to reach me?" "Why, no. Why?" Janice's voice said: "I've something interesting to tell you.
There they found the wounded man stretched on the snow, and just within the doorway lay Janice in a swoon, with Clarion licking her face. Both were carried to the house, and while Mrs. Meredith and the sergeant endeavoured to save the officer by a rude tourniquet, the squire held Janice's head over some feathers which Peg burned in a bed-warmer.
First and foremost the disappearance of that strange Olga Cedarstrom, and the loss of the box of heirlooms, was continually in Janice's mind. The girls at school knew about it, although only Amy knew just how serious the loss was to the Days.
"Your man is certainly some brief and to the point." He scratched off a copy of the message and put it into Janice's eager hand. The girl read it out loud: "J. M. always a story-teller. Have telegraphed consular agent at Cida for later particulars. I consider any news of B. D. good news.
This was very complimentary, but it did not satisfy Janice Day at all. She was not interested in Nelson Haley in a way to crave the attentions that he had begun to show her. Indeed, she did not really appreciate his attitude, for there was nothing silly in Janice's character. She was still a happy, hearty girl; and if she had romantic dreams of the future, they were nothing but dreams as yet!
It was done very quietly; but Nelson's friends, who were on the watch for just such a move, were informed almost as soon as the dreadful deed was done. News of it came to the Day house on Saturday afternoon, just before supper-time. On this occasion Uncle Jason waited for no meal to be eaten. Marty ran and got out Janice's car. His cousin and Mr.
Now, of late, the Yaquis had swept down from the mountains, Mr. Day's laborers had run away, and his own life was placed in peril again. He wrote little about his troubles to his daughter, living so far away in the Vermont village, but his bare mention of conditions was sufficient to spur Janice's imagination. She was anxious in the extreme.
Presently Janice's attention was caught by the sound of shuffling footsteps, as of one with only partial use of his legs, and glancing up she gave a slight cry of fear. And well she might, for there stood the commissary, with his face like one risen from the dead, it was so white and staring.
Watkins gradually allowed most of the responsibility for the housework to slide on to Janice's young shoulders. The young girl got up an hour earlier than usual, and she busied herself sweeping and dusting and making beds right up to the minute she had to seize her books and lunch and run to school. She was quite sure that Mrs.
The very worst that could possibly happen to her father, Janice thought, had perhaps already happened. That was a very sorrowful evening indeed at the old Day house on Hillside Avenue. Although Mr. Jason Day and Janice's father were half brothers only, the elder man had in his heart a deep and tender love for Broxton, or "Brocky," as he called him. He remembered Brocky as a lad always.
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