“Why, Dan Abbott,” she exclaimed, “whatever started you off in that way? ’Twasn’t anything I said, was it?”
The man sank down in his chair again and took from his pocket a telegram. “That’s what I went after, mother,” he told her. “I wired Bethel for one more pass, as I had a small son who also wished to go West, and this is his answer:
“‘Glad indeed to accommodate you, Dan, and I’m sending one more, just for good measure. Happened to recall that you have four children. Let me do something else for you, old man, if I can.’”
The grandmother looked up with shining eyes as she commented: “Bert Bethel’s a true friend, if there ever was one. Won’t Gerry be wild with joy?
“But, goodness me, Danny, that means more packing to do. There’s room enough in Julie’s trunk for the things Gerald will need, and I do believe I’ll go right up and put them in while the boy’s asleep.” Then she paused and looked at her son inquiringly. “Will it be quite fair to Mr. Peterson to have Gerry leave his store without giving notice?”
“I’ve attended to that, mother,” the man replied. “While I was waiting for an answer from Bert, I walked over to the grocery and told Jock Peterson all that had happened, and he was as pleased as he could be. He wants Gerald to come over there first thing in the morning to get a present to take with him.
“He didn’t say what it would be. I don’t even suppose that he had decided when he spoke. I was indeed happy to have him praise Gerald as he did. He said that he would trust our boy with any amount of money. He has watched Gerald, as he always does every lad who works in the store. He said that nearly all of them had helped themselves to a piece of candy from the showcase when they had wished, but that Gerald had never once touched a thing that did not belong to him. Mr. Peterson was so pleased that he asked Gerald about it one day, saying: ‘Don’t you like candy, lad?’ And our boy replied: ‘Indeed I do, Mr. Peterson! I don’t buy it because I want to save all my money to help Dad.’
“Gerald hadn’t even thought of helping himself as he worked around the store.”
“Of course, Gerry wouldn’t,” the old lady replied emphatically, “for isn’t he your son, Daniel?”
“And your grandson, mother?” the man smilingly returned. “But we must get some sleep,” he added, as the chimes on the mantle clock told them that it was eleven. “Tomorrow is to be a busy day.”