“Well, we have the goods on him, Aunt Belle, and let me tell you something. There are hundreds of turkeys in that pen over there, guess your loss won’t be so bad after all. Gosh, I’m glad—”
“Well—er—gosh, Bob, I am too—now then, there goes the telephone. You answer it, I’m so excited I can’t talk straight.” Bob went, and after listening a moment he repeated.
“Yes, now, is this right? You have a telegram from Texas, that five thousand dollars has been deposited in the Burlington bank for Mrs. Fenton because my mother, that is, Mrs. Austin, read of the flood and thought her sister could use it. Right?” A pause, “Thanks!” The boys hung up and turned to his aunt who was leaning helplessly against the door frame. “Get that, Aunt Belle!” She gave a little choking sob, and big tears ran down her cheeks.
“Yes, Bob—I did—that’s just like your mother—she wouldn’t even take the—time to find out if we needed it—b-but just sent it so we could have it—”
“Of course,” Jim laughed. “That’s just like her, I know. She’s bully.”
“My land—why my land, you haven’t had a bite of supper, you must be starved.” Then she flew about to get it ready and Bob turned on the radio.
“Weather report. Fair and warm, tonight and tomorrow,” he announced.
“Good news,” Mr. Fenton remarked as he came into the room.
“We’ve got so much good news,” his wife beamed. But before the boys got a chance to eat the meal, the Selectmen came, three of them, and asked to be taken across to Isle La Motte. They wanted to round up the men in the old house before they could get away, so Jim took them over. There wasn’t even a fight, and it didn’t take the officers long to learn that the ten were men who had come across the border without authority, and they were hand-cuffed, placed under guard, and held for deportation.
“We’re much obliged, young man,” one of the Selectmen smiled at the boy and held out his hand. “You’ve done a lot for all of us and we hope that you will stay with us as long as you can.”