CHAPTER XXI
VOICES IN THE DARK
Arthur Lane and Sandy talked it over. “I wonder what has happened. He looks dreadful.”
The two boys were on their way to Castle Manor. They wanted books. Evans’ library was a treasure-house for youthful readers. It had all the old adventuring tales. And Evans had read everything. He would simply walk up to a shelf, lay his hand on a book, and say, “Here’s one you’ll like.” And he was never wrong.
He had told them that the latch-string was always out for them. And they had learned to look for his welcome. Sometimes he asked them to stay, and ’phoned to their parents. And then they popped corn before the library fire, or made taffy in the kitchen. And sometimes Baldy Barnes was there and that wonderful Miss Towne. And Mrs. Follette. The boys didn’t care in the least what the rest of Sherwood thought about Mrs. Follette. They liked her and when she made the taffy and stood over the boiling kettle with the big spoon in her hand, they thought her regal in spite of the humble nature of her occupation.
But of late, Evans Follette had met them with an effort. “Look for yourselves,” he had said, when they asked for books, and had sat staring into the fire. And he had not urged them to stay. His manner had been kind but inattentive. They were puzzled and a little hurt. “I feel sorta queer when he acts that way,” Sandy was saying, “as if he didn’t take any interest. I don’t even know whether he wants us any more.”
Arthur refused to believe his hero inhospitable. “It’s just that he’s got things on his mind.”
They reached the house and rang the bell. Old Mary let them in. “He’s in the library,” she said, and they went towards it. The door was open and they entered. But the room was empty....
That morning Baldy had had a letter from Jane and had handed it to Evans. It was the first long letter since her engagement to Towne. Baldy had written to his sister, flamingly, demanding to know if she was really happy. And she had said:
“I shall be when Judy is better. That is all I can think of just now. Her life is hanging in the balance. We can never be thankful enough that we got the specialist when we did. He had found the trouble. The question now is whether she will have the strength for another operation. When she gets through with that! Well, then I’ll talk to you, darling. I hardly know how I feel. The days are so whirling. Mr. Towne has been more than generous. If the little I can give him will repay him, then I must give it, dearest. And it won’t be hard. He is so very good to me.”