been to the family if I had been here. Don't you see I want to be in and be loved and be a part of things, even of your troubles? That's what it would have been if I had lived with you while I was growing up instead of with the Wetherills. And I'm certainly sharing in everything from now on. Now you reach up to that top shelf and take down that teacup and we'll add those tickets up and see what it comes to. Please!"
Half shamedly Ted did her bidding.
They got out the tickets and Marjorie added them all up, a pitifully small sum it seemed to the girl, to represent the household goods of a home, but to the boy it seemed a breath-taking fortune.
"Is that all!" said Marjorie when he handed her the sum. "Why, I can give you that right away. I was afraid maybe I'd have to go out and cash a check. But is this all? Aren't there some things somewhere else?"
"No," said Ted. "The rest we had to burn up to keep warm with, but they weren't much account. The old rickety kitchen table, and a few shaky chairs. Oh, yes, and Betty's bedstead and mine, they went first, but they weren't anything great. We just put the mattresses on the floor."
He grinned, and Marjorie stifled a gasp and grinned back. What a lot of things she was learning about the make-shifts of poverty.
"All right!" she said briskly, "then let's get those things back and make the house look natural before Mother gets up to see it. That will do a good deal toward making her cheerful, and there is no need for her to know how we did it either. Have these things been out of the house long?"
"Not so many of them. The spoons went first. Mother felt awfully down about those, and soon after that she was taken so sick she had to go to bed. She doesn't know about most of the rest. We kept her room like it was when she went to bed. I guess she thinks we've been living on the spoons all this time. She doesn't know how little they gave for them. She thought an awful lot of those spoons. They were her grandmother's."
"Oh!" said Marjorie pitifully. "Well, now, do you think you could get those back this afternoon? Or should I go for them?"
Ted flashed a quick negative.
"I'll get them," he said. "It's no work for you. I'll have to bring the big things one at a time. I'm not sure I can borrow the hand cart I had when I took them away either. I took them at night, you know, so the neighbors wouldn't see. Probably I can get the cart after the store closes tonight, but it will take several nights to get them all."
"Oh, my dear! Don't try to bring them yourself. It won't cost but a few dollars to hire a truck and have them brought."
"A few dollars!" laughed Ted excitedly. "I can get Sam Sharpe to bring them all after five this evening for a dollar. He'd be glad to get it. He takes the truck to his Dad's garage for the night and has the privilege of using it for any little odd jobs he gets. But a dollar's a dollar, you know, and I've been too near to the edge of nothing to throw dollars away when I can do the thing myself."
"Oh, Ted!" said Marjorie pitifully. "But in this case I think a dollar is cheap, just to get the things here tonight and make things look like home again."
"Okay with me," said Ted, "but it won't likely look like your home at that. Mother's told us how it looks where you were brought up."
"Yes, it was a lovely home," said Marjorie with a sudden rush of feeling, "but we're going to make this as lovely as we can. Now, can you go right away and see if you can get the truck?"
"Sure thing!" said Ted. "But he can't bring them till after five. I might as well stick around here and see if there is anything else I can do till then. That will be after dark, too. The neighbors are so curious. Mother hates that! Having them all find out just what we've got and what we haven't. You know we used to have a nice home over in a suburb on the other side of the city. Nice big house, built of stone. Plenty of room. We each had a room to ourselves, and there was a garage and a big garden, and flowers and fruit trees. It was a swell place. And Dad had a position with a good salary. That was before the depression, you know. We had a car, too, and Dad used to drive in town every morning. It was swell living there. Dad had money in the bank. That was about the time Mother tried to get to see you. She did so want to have you visit us. She was all in when she came back with that picture of you and said they wouldn't let her see you. She'd counted on bringing you home. We'd all counted on it. And then all of a sudden the man where Dad worked died, and his business went flooey, and Dad couldn't get anything else right away except a little accountant job that didn't pay much. He took it and kept on trying for something better, but things were going bad, and Mother had to have an operation, and the kids were sick, and Dad had to put a mortgage on the house, and the next thing that happened the Building Association that had the mortgage went up, and they demanded the money right away, all of it, and Dad hadn't been able to pay the interest for a couple of times, so they took away the house. Oh, it was a mess, and then Dad got sick, and everything's been going from bad to worse ever since."
"Oh, my dear!" said Marjorie quite honestly crying now. "My dear! I'm so sorry you've been going through all that!"
"Well, don't bawl!" said Ted crossly, brushing his hand over his own eyes. "I can't stand bawling! I just told ya because I thought you'd wantta know. We haven't always been down and out this way. We had a swell home!"
"Well, now let's make this one as cheerful as we can before evening," said Marjorie taking a deep breath. "I'll get the money!"
She went into the parlor to her handbag that she had left on the bare little high mantel shelf and brought back a roll of bills that made Ted's eyes open wide.
"I put in a little extra," said his sister smiling. "I thought perhaps you'd think of something we need that I've forgotten."
"Gosh!" said Ted gazing down at the roll of bills in his hand. "Don't know's I can trust myself out alone. I might get held up carrying all this wealth."
She smiled. It seemed a very small amount of money to her.
"Get anything you want, you know. I'm not used to providing for a family. I got everything I could think of at the little store down here, but I suppose I've left out a lot of things. Soap is one. Better get plenty. Betty says there isn't any in the house. And potatoes. We could have roasted potatoes for dinner tonight. I got a beefsteak!"
The boy grinned.
"I can see where you're going to spoil us for living again when you're gone."
"Gone!" said Marjorie with dismay in her voice. "Do you want me to go?"
"No, not on yer life! But you're not going to stick around these diggings. Not with the home you've been used to! You'll be spreading your wings and flying away!" and he gave her a sudden quick look. "Say!" he added irrelevantly, "you look a lot like Betts, and yet you don't. I could tell you apart already! You don't look quite so frowsy as Betty, and you've got a cute little quirk in the corners of your mouth. Maybe Betty would look like that too if she hadn't had to work so hard, and have such a lot of trouble."
"You're sweet!" said Marjorie, and suddenly reached up with a quick motion and kissed her new brother on his lean hard young cheek.
He blinked and the color went up in a great wave, and receding left it white, and his eyes shadowed and weary-looking.
"Okay with me!" he grinned. "If that's your line you better give warning next time. We don't have much time for mush and sob-stuff!"
Then he turned sharply away toward the window and she saw him brush his hand across his eyes, and swallow hard.
"Okay with me!" said Marjorie, trying to make her voice sound as much like his a minute before as she could. And suddenly he laughed.
"You're aw'right," he said grudgingly.
"Thanks awfully!" said Marjorie, trying to enter into his spirit. "But who is that coming in the door?"
"That's Bud," said Ted, peering through the crack into the hall. "Hey, Kid! Hush up there! Dad and Muth's asleep! They're sick and yer not ta make a noise! Come on out here an' shut the door carefully."
A boy about ten came panting into the room, so out of breath he could scarcely articulate.