The Black Half-dollar
Jerry's progress was brought to a sudden halt and he was sent sprawling to the ground by running full tilt into a man who tried to turn the same corner at the same time Jerry did, but from the opposite direction. The impact was so swift and so hard that Jerry was whirled clear around and fell on his face, striking two small pieces of board lying near the sidewalk and loosening a plank in the sidewalk itself.
"Oh!" gasped the man's voice.
Before Jerry could stir he heard a clink as of metal falling on board. He half turned on his back and looked dazedly up at the man, who was pressing both hands into the pit of his stomach. His face was very red. He spoke to Jerry hesitatingly, as though he could not get his breath.
'Are you—hurt—much?"
"N-no, I guess not," Jerry replied, sitting up and feeling of a bruised place on his arm.
"You just about knocked the breath out of me," said the man in a more natural voice and one which Jerry now recognized as belonging to Harry Barton, the clerk at the corner drug store.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Barton. If I'd of seen you—"
"You wouldn't have run into me," finished Mr. Barton. "Of course not. There are a lot of things we wouldn't do if we could see what the results were going to be. Why, bless me, it's Jerry Elbow! Well, I guess there wasn't much harm done this time. You seemed to be in quite a hurry. Have I delayed you?"
"Yes, sir, I was in a hurry," Jerry answered. "Danny was running to ask Mother 'Larkey for fifty cents to see the circus."
"And what were you running for?"
Jerry started to get up as he replied.
"To see if she had fifty cents for Da—"
He stopped speaking and stopped getting up at the same time. A glint of silver on the sidewalk back of Mr. Barton caught his eye. It was a half-dollar! Jerry sank to a sitting posture and gazed in rapt wonder at this answer to an unsaid prayer.
"You are hurt!" cried Mr. Barton solicitously and stooped to help Jerry up. "Where does it pain you?"
"It's fifty cents!" cried Jerry, his lips unsealed at last, and he scrambled eagerly for the coin.
"Well, there's nothing very painful in that, is there?" laughed Mr. Barton.
Jerry rose, clutching the dirty half-dollar tightly, a light of joyful anticipation in his eyes.
"There's not much need of asking what you will spend it for," observed the drug clerk.
"For a ticket to the circus!" cried Jerry, his eyes sparkling at the thought of future delights.
"I guessed it the first time," said Mr. Barton. "I thought I heard something metallic fall on the sidewalk when you ran into me, but I had such hard work getting my breath back that I forgot all about it."
Such a harrowing thought now popped into Jerry's mind that unconsciously he closed his fingers entirely around the precious half-dollar. What if it were Mr. Barton's! Perhaps he had knocked it out of Mr. Barton's pocket when he ran into him. He had heard the clink of its fall just after the collision, as he lay on the ground.
After a short but sharp struggle with himself, Jerry looked up and held out the money to Mr. Barton. He tried to smile, but was conscious that the twisting of his lips didn't look much like a smile.
"It's yours, I guess, Mr. Barton."
"Mine!" exclaimed the surprised drug clerk. "You saw it first."
"Yes, but I heard it fall just after I ran into you. I must of knocked it out of your pocket. I didn't have no half-dollar."
"No more did I," replied Mr. Barton.
"You didn't!" exclaimed Jerry, and joy came unbidden back into his eyes and there was a very different feel to his lips. He knew that it was a real smile this time.
"Not this late in the week," Mr. Barton informed him. "It's too long after pay day for me to have that much money. I've got just thirty-five cents."
He drew some small coins out of his pocket.
"Yes, it's all here. The half-dollar must have been lying on one of the boards that you struck in falling. Let's see it."
He took the money and examined it.
"It was almost covered with dirt," he said. "So was one end of both boards. Hello! That's a funny black mark on the other side. Looks as though somebody had smeared it with black paint."
"That doesn't hurt it any, does it?" asked Jerry in trepidation.
"Not a bit! It's good for a ticket to the circus."
"If I hadn't of run into you, I wouldn't get to go," observed Jerry.
"That's so," responded Mr. Barton. "I wouldn't let any one know you found the money. Just sneak off to the circus when it comes and buy your ticket. Danny would find some way to get it away from you if he knew you had it."
"I guess mebbe he would," Jerry responded.
"You just keep it to yourself and enjoy the circus," Mr. Barton advised him and went on to the store.
Jerry trudged slowly back toward Mrs. Mullarkey's, thinking intently.
The gloom that pervaded the house was so deep that Jerry perceived it as soon as he opened the door. Danny sat glowering by the window; Celia Jane was weeping unashamed, while Chris and Nora were trying not to show their disappointment.
So Mother 'Larkey had not yet been able to make both ends meet—those troublesome, refractory ends that made her life a continual round of hard work—and there were no fifty-cent pieces for the children to buy tickets with to see the elephant jump the fence. Jerry hugged himself just to feel the half-dollar in his blouse pocket and a glow of exultation ran over his body at the thought that he was going to get to see the circus.
Mrs. Mullarkey, looking tired and worn, was ripping apart the dress for Mrs. Green that she had just finished at noon. Baby Kathleen sat at her feet, playing with the old rag doll that had once been Nora's and was now claimed by Celia Jane.
Jerry entered the room slowly and took a seat on the chair without a back. He said nothing at all and finally Mother 'Larkey looked up at him.
"Why don't you ask for fifty cents, too?" she inquired. "Don't you want to see the circus?"
"Yes'm," replied Jerry, "but I ain't got no mother."
"What difference does that make?" she asked, in a voice sharper than she was accustomed to use in speaking to Jerry. "Haven't I done everything a mother could—"
"Yes'm," Jerry interrupted hastily, for he didn't want her to think he thought that. "But it said to ask your mother for fifty cents and I ain't got none to ask."
"Sure and you haven't, you blessed boy," said Mother 'Larkey. "If I had it to give, you wouldn't need a mother to ask it of. I wish I could send all of you to the circus and go myself."
"We never get to go no place," muttered Danny gloomily.
"It costs money to go to places," his mother explained, "and there's no money in the house. It's all I've been able to do to put enough food in your hungry mouths to keep soul and body together and to get enough clothes to keep you looking decent and respectable. I was counting on some money from Mrs. Green to-day, to buy a little meat for supper and get some more cough medicine for Kathleen, but she wasn't satisfied with the dress and I've got to do part of it over before she will pay me."
"Is Kathleen's cough medicine all gone?" Jerry asked, suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable.
"Yes, and she ought to have some more right this minute. Summer coughs are bad things for babies."
Jerry went to Kathleen and she welcomed him by raising her arms and gurgling at him. He put his face gently against hers and she patted his head and tugged at his hair.
And all the time Jerry felt guiltier and guiltier and the half-dollar in his pocket seemed to become bigger and heavier. He was relieved when he heard Celia Jane, recovered from her crying, asking:
"Did you ever see a circus, Mother?"
"Yes, once. Dan took me to see one in the city right after we were married. If he was living, he would find a way to take you all and him liking the fun and the noise and the crowd and all."
"Some day I'll be big enough to earn lots of money and take us all to the circus," asserted Danny. "And Jerry, too."
"Sure and you will," his mother said. "And now, if you children will pick me some gooseberries, I'll make you a gooseberry pie for supper."
Jerry did not join the rest in the scamper for cups and a pan nor follow them out into the back yard. He patted Kathleen's head and then went into the kitchen when he had heard the screen door slam and knew the Mullarkey children were all out of the house. He took down a bottle from the shelf by the table and slipped quietly out to the street.
When he was out of sight of the house he looked to see if the half-dollar were still in his pocket. The sight of it made him recall vividly all the joys that he would miss if he didn't get to see the circus. He took the coin out of his pocket and looked at it and the longer he looked the slower grew his pace. Then he thought of Kathleen and the summer cough that Mother 'Larkey said was bad for babies, and his lips suddenly closed in a firm, straight line. He clutched the half-dollar tightly in one hand, the bottle in the other, and set out as fast as his legs would carry him. He did not dare waste a moment for fear the temptation to change his mind would prove too great to be resisted.
Not once did he slacken speed till he reached the corner drug store. Speechless for lack of breath, he passed the bottle over the counter to Mr. Barton.
"Well, Jerry, what is it this time?" asked the clerk.
Jerry panted a moment before he could reply.
"Some more of—that cough medicine—for Kathleen."
"That won't take long," said Mr. Barton. "All I've got to do is to pour it from a big bottle into this little one."
He disappeared behind the prescription case, but was back long before Jerry's pulse had had time to slow down to its customary beat.
"There you are," he said. "Forty-five cents."
Jerry passed over the precious half-dollar. The pang of regret at the thought of circus delights, once so nearly his, now beyond his reach, he resolutely forced out of his mind every time he caught himself thinking about it. He tried to whistle to help forget the circus, but to his surprise not a sound issued from his lips. They were too dry to whistle. Then he suddenly heard the drug clerk exclaim:
"Gee whillikens! This is the identical half-dollar you found this afternoon! I can tell it by the black mark on it."
"Yes, it is," Jerry admitted in a forlorn tone.
"So you told about finding it—"
"No, I didn't," interrupted Jerry, "but Kathleen was all out of cough medicine and Mother 'Larkey didn't have no money."
"I see. Then you told what—"
"No, I just got the bottle and brought it here."
Mr. Barton whistled.
"Jerry, you're some boy, and there's my hand on it."
Jerry felt himself flushing as he took the proffered hand which shook his warmly.
"Grit!" exclaimed Mr. Barton. "Pure grit. That's what I call it, if anybody should ask you. And you won't get to see the circus at all."
"I guess Kathleen's cough is more important than the circus," replied Jerry. "Summer coughs are bad for babies."
"You're right there, but I'm mighty sorry you can't go. I know how my two boys will feel if they have to stay away."
He rang up the forty-five cents and returned a nickel to Jerry.
"There, I guess you've earned the right to spend the nickel on yourself."
"Give me a nickel's worth of cough drops—the kind with honey in 'em," said Jerry.
"You don't want cough drops, Jerry. Here's some good candy. It's got lots of lemon in it."
"Kathleen likes the cough drops with honey in 'em," explained Jerry. "She doesn't cough so bad after eating one of them."
"Well, you beat my time, Jerry! You must like Kathleen an awful lot."
"I do," admitted Jerry in a low voice, as a customer entered the store. He took the bag of cough drops and darted out through the door, but not too quickly to overhear Mr. Barton saying to the man who had entered:
"That boy's got enough sand to supply all the contractors in town. Plucky as they make 'em."
Jerry was not quite sure that he understood what Mr. Barton meant about the sand, but his saying that he was plucky made him feel glad and uncomfortable at the same time. Somehow it didn't seem quite so hard to have given up seeing the circus. He wouldn't mind not seeing the elephant jump the fence—well, not so very much. He could look at the billboard poster all he wanted to and that would be almost as good.
He started home on a run but soon slackened his speed, and the nearer he got the slower became his pace. He didn't want Danny to know that he had bought something for Kathleen, for Danny called him "Kathleen's pet" as it was and he didn't like to be laughed at. Perhaps he could sneak in without any of them seeing him and put the bottle back on the shelf and no one would know how it got full.
The Mullarkey children were still picking gooseberries and Mother 'Larkey was still in the living room sewing on Mrs. Green's dress. Jerry tiptoed carefully into the kitchen, replaced the bottle, stuffed the cough drops into his blouse pocket and went into the living room, where he squatted down by Kathleen.
Hardly had he done so when the voices of the other children coming back to the house were heard.
"Gooseberries all picked?" sighed Mrs. Mullarkey. "Then I must be getting supper."
When she left the room, Jerry fished a cough drop out of his pocket and gave it to Kathleen. She smiled in delight at sight of it and at once popped it into her mouth, cooing at Jerry.
"Mother, why didn't you make Jerry help pick gooseberries?" asked Danny, as soon as he entered and caught sight of Jerry.
"He can't have any pie, can he, Mother?" said Celia Jane.
"Why, he was out with you," replied Mrs. Mullarkey. "He just this minute came in."
"He wasn't near the gooseberry patch," Danny informed her.
"He didn't pick a single gooseberry," Celia Jane interpolated.
"Nora," appealed their mother, "you always tell the truth. Didn't Jerry help you?"
"I didn't see him, Mother. Ask Jerry."
"Did you help them, Jerry? Not that it makes any difference; you'll get just as big a piece of pie as any of them."
"No'm, I didn't," replied Jerry. His lips parted again as though he wanted to say more but closed without a word.
"You're such a willing worker, I thought Danny was just trying to get even for something," said Mother 'Larkey.
"Where'd you go, Jerry?" asked Chris.
"Yah! Tell us that," demanded Danny.
"I just thought I'd run over to the drug store," replied Jerry.
"What did you want to go there for?"
Jerry said nothing.
"I bet he found a penny and bought himself some candy," cried Celia Jane, falling into the habit that many older people have of judging others by themselves.
"Tandy," said Kathleen, struck by that word, and she pulled the remnant of the cough drop out of her mouth and displayed it proudly.
"Jerry, you ate all the rest yourself!" accused Celia Jane. "Greedy, greedy, greedy!"
"Oh, did um buy some tandy for um's 'ittle Tatleen?" mocked Danny.
"I want some," said Celia Jane. "Mother, make Jerry give me some candy."
"It was cough drops for Kathleen," said Jerry.
"Where'd you get the money?" Danny demanded sharply.
"Found it after you ran home first to ask for fifty cents to see the circus," Jerry explained.
"Gee, I never find nothing!" ejaculated Danny. "How much was it?"
Jerry did not reply immediately and Celia Jane, watching him sharply, was at once full cry right on his trail.
"I bet it was a whole lot more'n five cents an' he bought something for himself. How much did you find, Jerry?"
"It was half a dollar," Jerry stated, thus brought to bay.
"Half a dollar!" exclaimed Danny and Chris.
"Why, that's fifty cents!" Celia Jane cried.
"Enough to buy a ticket to the circus!" Danny added. "Where is it? Let's see it."
"It's all gone," Jerry told his tormentors.
"Fifty cents! And you spent all of it at once!" wailed Celia Jane.
"That must of bought a whole lot of candy," said Danny. "Fork out. No fair holding any back."
Jerry produced the small paper bag of cough drops and gave it to Mother 'Larkey.
"They're cough drops with honey in 'em for Kathleen," he said. "I ain't eaten one of them."
"Give me one, Mother," pleaded Celia Jane.
"They're for Kathleen," replied her mother. "She needs them and you don't."
"Jerry's Kathleen's pet! Jerry's Kathleen's little honey cough-drop boy!" chanted Danny.
"Jerry's done more for Kathleen than her own brothers and sisters have ever done, unless it's Nora," declared Mrs. Mullarkey. "It's no wonder she loves him best."
"That's not fifty cents' worth of cough drops," Danny accused. "Where's the rest of the money? Make him tell, Mother."
Kathleen saved him the necessity of replying.
"Toff meddy," she gurgled, looking up at the shelf where the bottle was kept. "Tatleen want toff meddy."
"It's all gone, Kathleen," her mother said soothingly.
"No," said Kathleen, shaking her head and pointing up at the bottle.
"Mercy sakes! It's full!" cried Mrs. Mullarkey. "I could have sworn I emptied it this morning."
Then she looked at Jerry, a sudden softening coming over her face and into her eyes.
"Jerry, you went and spent every cent of that half-dollar on Kathleen, didn't you?"
"You said there wasn't any money in the house," Jerry defended himself, "and that Kathleen needed more medicine because summer coughs are bad for babies."
"The Lord love you, Jerry, I'm not scolding you. It's more apt to be crying I am at the big heart of you. It's as big as my Dan's was. You're more like him in heart and disposition than any of his own children, unless it's Nora. That's why I can't ever let them take you away, ever."
"Who wants to take Jerry away?" It was Nora's startled voice that asked.
Jerry's heart stood still. Had the man with the red scar on his face found him at last? He looked up at Mother 'Larkey, his lips starting to twist.
"Nobody's going to take him away!" said Mrs. Mullarkey almost fiercely. "Just let anybody try it!"
"Why didn't you tell us you had fifty cents?" asked Danny. "I bet you was going to spend it all for yourself for a ticket to the circus."
"Mr. Barton told me not to tell," replied Jerry. "He said you'd get it away from me if you knew I had found it and for me to go to the circus all by myself."
"And you gave that up just for Kathleen?" queried Mrs. Mullarkey.
"I guess Kathleen's cough is much more important than any old circus," said Jerry.
Mother 'Larkey thereupon gathered Jerry up in her arms and kissed him.
