The Challengers (23 page)

Read The Challengers Online

Authors: Grace Livingston Hill

BOOK: The Challengers
11.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The humming of the tracks was more distinct now, but it did not disturb the sleeper. Could it be possible that she had come down early to catch the train herself and fallen asleep waiting?

He ought to get away now before that truck driver came near enough to see where he was standing. Yet he lingered uncertainly. Ought he perhaps to waken her? He could see the loutish form of the driver slumped in his seat as he passed a streetlamp on the other side of the track. Would a nice delicate girl like that--if she was a nice delicate girl such as she looked----relish being found sleeping there when that fellow came down the tracks with his milk cans to the high milk platform, as he undoubtedly must come pretty soon?

The humming sound was very clear now, and the girl did not stir. Suddenly the distant darkness became illuminated by a great headlight. The train had swept around a curve. It would be here in a moment, and the girl had not stirred.

Quickly he stepped to her side and, stooping, touched her shoulder gently.

"I beg your pardon!" he said clearly in her ear. "But is it possible you meant to take this train? It is almost here."

Melissa started up, looking around wildly in the dim morning light, her face full of fright.

"Oh, the train? Is there a train coming? Yes." She tried to rise but fell back with a moan, yet started up again.

"I must have hurt my ankle when I fell in the field," she said aloud, as if speaking to herself, "but--I
must
get up! I must get this train. Mother will be so worried."

He helped her up and steadied her against the wall of the station.

"If you will just wait here until I get my baggage," he said courteously, "I will help you on the train."

He picked up her bag and handed it to her, and Melissa stood there like a little child just wakened out of sleep, rubbing her eyes, not rightly remembering how she came there, only very much frightened.

The young man was back in a moment, and taking his own bag and her little one in one hand, he put his other hand under her slender arm and guided her to the train, which was coming to a halt before them now.

They had to walk back two cars to reach the passenger coach, and she limped so that he had to help her and almost lift her up the steps. She was stiff and sore from the cold and lying on the wet boards all night. She was half-sick, too, from her long frightened walk in the fields, her fright, and her nights spent on the hard hospital couch.

He seated her in the only section that was unoccupied, the seat by the door that had been vacated by a laborer who swung off for the day's duty at the station they had just left. There were a bunch of red lanterns standing on the floor in the aisle, and the young man guided her around them and put her down in the seat then looked around for a place for himself. But everything else was filled by laborers going to their work, some sprawled over a whole seat, their heads back, their mouths open, fast asleep, snoring. Then he looked down at her and laughed pleasantly.

"Would you mind if I sat here?" he said. "There doesn't seem to be any more parking spaces left in this car."

"Of course not," said Melissa, reassured by his courteous manner and his merry eyes. "I am very grateful to you. I am afraid I should still have been sleeping on that platform if you hadn't been kind enough to waken me. I was pretty tired."

"You certainly looked it. I'm glad I made no mistake. I didn't know but I was being a little presumptuous."

The train had started on by this time, after backing up to the milk landing and taking on a great many enormous cans, and now it was well under way. The conductor with a red lantern swung on his arm came in, slammed the door, and looked over them curiously.

"Fare!" he said snappily.

The young man handed out his money, and Melissa slipped her hand under her coat and quickly unfastened the safety pins, with a deep gratitude to Brady for his thoughtfulness. Suppose she had not had this money! What would she have done? She would have had to walk all the rest of the way home, and it would have taken her days! A sudden unexpected sense of security enveloped her. Somebody had been looking after her in spite of all the trouble, even if it was only a butcher; she had not had to go out into danger without some provision. Yet what made Brady so kind? He was only a stranger who had taken a notion to Bob. There must be some Power beyond just human whim to make people do nice things.

"Now," said the young man, when the conductor had passed by, "since I'm wished on you for a while, it's high time I introduced myself. My name's Ian Jenifer; I'm taking graduate courses in the university in your city----at least, the city where you told the conductor you are going--and I've been out here last night at a Bible conference and visiting my aunt. Do you know many people in Cliffordsville? My aunt is Mrs. Merton on Maple Street. Perhaps you know her and that would introduce us nicely."

"No," said Melissa, "I don't know anybody in Cliffordsville. I didn't even know it was Cliffordsville. It was too dark to read the signs when I got there. I didn't have any idea where I was except that it was a railroad station and there would likely be a train sometime. I was so tired I must have fallen asleep. I can't thank you enough for waking me. I don't believe I would have heard the train at all; I was just all in. I had been through a pretty awful experience, and I'd been out all night in the storm."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" he said sympathetically, giving her a keen, quick look. "I thought your dress felt damp. Aren't you going to catch a terrible cold?"

"Oh, I hope not," she said, looking down at her wrinkled coat. "I didn't get so very wet. You see, I took refuge in an old barn by the roadside during the worst, but afterward the trees were wet, and the grass in the fields where I had to walk. Oh--this sounds strange, doesn't it? I guess I'll have to tell you about it, if it won't bore you."

"Of course not," said the pleasant voice, and he gave her another keen look.

"Well, you see, my brother at college got hurt in an accident, and I went out to see him. I didn't know the people who offered to take me. They were the family of one of my brother's classmates, and their son had been hurt, too. They were to take me one day and bring me back the second day after.

"I hadn't been long on the way before I wished I hadn't come with them. I was sure my mother wouldn't have approved. The young man was rather fresh, and his mother went to sleep part of the time, and I felt very uncomfortable. But it was worse the day we started back. I wouldn't have gone with them, only I wanted to save the money. I knew we couldn't afford the carfare, and I thought I had to stick it out. But when I got in the car, I found that a strange kind of girl was going back in place of the mother. She had on a great deal of makeup, she smoked cigarettes all the time, and I didn't like the way she acted at all. I was glad she was in the front seat with the man this time instead of myself, and I thought it was going to be much better than on the way out. There was another thing that troubled me, too: we had started five hours late and I knew my mother would be worrying about me. Then after about an hour of driving, we turned into the woods and came to a sort of cabin, and there was another young man there waiting on the porch with a case of liquor beside him. They loaded the case into the car right in front of me and put the young man in the backseat. I saw right away that he must be drunk. He was awful. He kept putting his head on my shoulder, and I couldn't get away from him. The people in the front seat didn't do a thing but laugh. They thought it was a good joke. Once when he tried to kiss me I screamed, and then they turned around and threatened to gag me if I made another sound. You see, by this time they had all been drinking a good deal, and they were mad because I wouldn't. And besides, they were afraid they were being chased. The young man who got in with the liquor told them the state police were around, and by and by we heard shots behind us."

The gray eyes were watching her as she told her story. They had an angry light in them as the story went on.

"And a thing like that can go on in a civilized country!" said Jenifer indignantly. "Do you know their names? Could you locate that cabin in the woods?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to try!" said Melissa, shivering and putting her hands before her eyes. "Yes, I suppose I could perhaps find it. I am sure I would know it when I saw it. And of course I know their names. But, oh, I don't want to ever see any of them again. Ought I to? Father would feel so dreadfully to know I had been through all this, and I wouldn't dare tell Mother all of it. She would never trust me out of her sight again. She would be frantic. She is probably frantic now. You see, I sent her a telegram that I would be home yesterday at three o'clock in the afternoon. She will think some awful thing has happened. But there hasn't been a chance to send another. I hoped the station would be open before the train came so I could let her know I am all right."

"Why, we can do that at the junction," he said, looking at his watch. "We're due there in half an hour, and we have three quarters to wait for the express to the city. It's early yet. She won't be awake, will she? Or we might telephone."

"I'm afraid she won't have been asleep at all yet," said Melissa with trouble in her eyes. "But, you see, there isn't any telephone. We're only there temporarily, waiting for Father to be well enough to come home, and we're hoping to find some place in the country."

"I see," said Jenifer. "Well then, the wire is best. It will go through quickly so early in the morning. If this were an express, we could send the telegram right away from the train, but I guess the junction is the best we can do."

"You've been wonderfully kind," said Melissa. "I don't know why I have bothered you with all my worries. I never talk to strangers, but somehow you don't seem like a stranger. I guess I'm kind of upset and silly with all I've been through."

"Of course!" said Jenifer. "I'm glad I could help. I think it is always easier to have a friend by when things go wrong. I certainly would like to go out and hunt down those brutes that made your night such a wild experience. But perhaps we'd just better forget them and let you get some rest. Wouldn't you like to put your head back in this luxurious milk train and take another little nap before we get to the junction?"

He spread his overcoat over the back of the seat for a pillow, and Melissa lay back and closed her eyes. But she could not sleep now. Her mind was alert again and tense. She was thinking of her mother and what they all would say to her when she got home, thinking of the narrow escapes she had had, dozens of them in the night that was past, and also in the days that were past since she left home. Then it occurred to her that something had seemed to be about her, preserving her at every turn. Though she had suffered with fright and exposure, from indignity and mortification, yet none of them had actually destroyed her, nor even really harmed her any, except to destroy her peace of mind and hurt her pride. It really was wonderful how she had escaped from her unpleasant traveling companions, how there had always been some kind of shelter when it rained the hardest, some help in every crisis--that barn when the storm was at its worst, the young man when the train was coming and she asleep.

She looked at the young man by her side through the fringes of her lashes, studied the lines of his lean, pleasant face, and compared them to Gene Hollister. Here was a man that one could trust. Here was a man her father and mother would honor. She had no question in her mind about confiding in him. He was honorable. That was written in every line of his expression.

Jenifer had taken out a book and pencil and was at work. Melissa dropped her veiled glance to see what he was doing and found to her amazement that he held a small limp-covered Bible in his hands and was writing in minute script little notes along its margin. She tried to make out the words without really opening her eyes but could not. What could it be that he was doing?

He took out a little notebook from his pocket and copied things into the margin of the Bible here and there, fluttering the leaves over as if it was a familiar and beloved book. There was no mistaking the look of deep interest in what he was doing. He was not studying this from duty. It was something he earnestly desired to do, and his look was as of one delving deep in a chest of treasure and discovering new jewels the deeper he went. Melissa had never seen anyone look that way about a book, not even her father when he was deep in scientific study or had found some literary treasure in a musty tome. She marveled at it. What sort of young man was this one who had come so unexpectedly into her life, just apparently to save her from a trying place and help her on her way a little while?

Then in the midst of her meditations the conductor came through, waving his unnecessary smoky red lantern and calling out to the sleepy passengers:

"Next station, Marwood Junction! All change cars! This train goes no farther!" And all the sleepy passengers stretched and yawned and looked about them.

Ian Jenifer closed his book, almost reluctantly it seemed, with a last lingering look at a verse he had just marked, and slipped it into the bag at his feet. Then he turned toward Melissa, and finding her wide awake, he smiled. She noticed there was a kind of radiance behind his eyes that seemed to come from some hidden source. It seemed somehow that it was the look with which he had been reading the book, as if the book itself had reflected something from its words into his face.

"Rested?" he said and smiled again. "Now we can send our telegram. Have you thought what you want to say?"

"Oh! Yes," said Melissa, starting up. "I thought I'd say"--she tapped the words out on her fingers--" 'Unavoidably delayed, no telephone. Am all right. Home today.' "

"Nothing could be better," said the young man. "That tells everything without telling a thing!" And he grinned genially. "Well, suppose you write it out with the address. I think there'll be time before the train stops. Here, take my pencil and write it in my notebook, and then I'll look after it for you as soon as we are landed and lose no time."

Other books

The Silver Spoon by Kansuke Naka
The Forever Watch by David Ramirez
Time Dancer by Inez Kelley
Reburn by Anne Marsh
Maddie's Big Test by Louise Leblanc
Wild Weekend by Susanna Carr
3 Service for Two by Kate Kingsbury