“Oh, does he mean my—my Dan, Marraine?” chirped Polly, breathlessly.
“What! You know the boy?” cried the old sailor, in amazement. “God bless me,—you!”
“Why, yes, we know him,—don’t we, Pollykins?” said Miss Stella. “But what he is doing with the medal we can’t say. We’re certain he has it rightfully and honestly; and as soon as ‘The Polly’ (my cousin’s yacht) can spread her broken wings, we are going to Killykinick. Suppose you come with us, and see the owner of the medal, and strike a bargain yourself?”
“By George, I will,—I will! A sail with you, Miss Stella, is a temptation I can not resist. And I must have the medal. I must see the boy, and hear how he got it. I’ll buy it from him at his own price; and you shall negotiate the sale, dear lady!”
“Take care,” said Miss Stella, with a merry sparkle in her eyes,—“take care how you do business with me, Captain! Remember how I drew upon you for the babies’ ward last winter! I can fleece without mercy, as you know.”
“Fleece as you please,” was the hearty answer. “I can stand it, for that soft little hand of yours did work for this old man that he can never repay.”
So the agreement was made; and Miss Stella, having invested in a queer, twisted candlestick, which she declared was quite equal to Aladdin’s lamp, and Polly having decided to reserve her dollar for a neighboring candy store, the party at Jonah’s junk shop separated, with the promise of meeting as soon as “The Polly” should be ready for a flight to Killykinick.
But that pleasant excursion was indefinitely postponed; for when Miss Stella reached Polly’s home it was to find two priestly visitors awaiting her. One was an old friend, the present pastor of St. Mary’s Church, near the Foresters’ home; the other, tall, pale even through his bronze, anxious-eyed, she had never met.
“Father Rayburn, Miss Allen,” was the pastor’s brief introduction. “We have come to throw ourselves on your mercy, my dear young lady. You are here for your summer holiday, I know; and I hesitate to interrupt it. But Father Rayburn is in sore need of experienced service that you alone can give.”
“You need a nurse?” asked Miss Stella.