"But not of late."

"Why, no, I suppose not. He's been tied to the house with a 'gla.s.s leg,'" cried Janice laughing a little.

"You know I deliver orders over there twice a week for Mr.

Harriman. A lot of those people can't even talk English. We've a Swede for a clerk in the store. They write down what they want for me, and he puts up the orders.

"But I know a lot of them to talk to--especially the boys that work in the pickle factories I'll begin by asking them," said Gummy, with eagerness, for he wanted to help.

"That will be nice of you, Gummy," Janice said. "You never do know when we might come across some news of her."

"And you say you think she's married?"

"It may be so. To Willie Sangreen. At least, she was going with a man by that name when she worked for us."

"Don't know any Sangreens over at Pickletown," said Gummy, shaking his head. "And of course I haven't seen your Olga."

"That is so, Gummy. But if the girl at Johnson's that night was really Olga Cedarstrom, you'd know her again, wouldn't you?"

"Guess I would if I saw her," declared the boy. "No fear about that. I'll keep my eyes open, Janice."

With this promise he chirruped to the horse, that jogged along without paying very much attention to Gummy. He knew the road better than the boy did, for he had been over it many more times.

"Do you suppose that lawyer that came to see my mother will cheat us out of our home, Janice?" asked the boy suddenly, showing where his thoughts were anch.o.r.ed.

"Not if it can be helped, Gummy," returned the girl sympathetically. "I know daddy's friend, Mr. Payne, will do all he can for her."

"He hasn't sent any word to her, or anything," sighed Gummy. "We just don't know what to do."

"All you can do is to sit tight and hold on, I guess," Janice said. "That is what daddy says he does when things look stormy for him."

"But, you see, it means so much to us," said the boy, shaking his head. "Jicksy! And me with such a miserable old name!"

"Why, Gummy!"

"How'd you like to be called Zerubbabelbubble, or something like that?" he demanded. "Nice enough for you. 'Janice'! That's a fancy name. But 'Gumswith'! Jicksy!"

"Why, Gummy!" exclaimed the girl again, didn't know you hated it so."

"I do. I don't talk about it. I know Pa gave it to me because he thought a heap of his half brother. And Uncle John Gumswith was a nice man, I guess. He set my father up in business in the first place, when he was married."

"Oh, is that so, Gummy?'

"Yes! Don't kick about the old name before Momsy. You see, I guess Uncle John wanted them to name a boy after him; and maybe they thought if they did so it might do me some good sometime."

"Oh, Gummy! That your uncle would give you money because you were named after him?"

"Yes," said Gummy, nodding. "I don't know. But--"

"And your uncle's never been heard from? You never saw him, even?"

"Nor he me," grinned Gummy. "He went off to Australia and never wrote. He was always traveling around the world, Pa said; and he never did write. Just walked in on his folks without announcing he was coming." "A regular wanderer," said Janice.

"And now, jicksy!" exclaimed Gummy, vigorously, "how I'd like to have him walk in on us now."

"Oh, Gummy" she said eagerly, catching the drift of his desire.

"With his pockets full of money!"

The boy nodded vigorously. "You see, Janice, it would be worth while being called 'Gumswith' then, sure enough."

Janice could not blame Gummy Carringford feeling as he did. He really should have something to pay him for being called by such an atrocious name! And Janice herself would be glad to have rich relative walk into the Day house and present daddy--with an automobile, for instance.

They came in sight of the house at Eight Hundred and Forty-five Knight Street just as the very kind of automobile Janice would have loved to own was drawing up before the front door--a handsome, great, big touring car, big enough for her to have taken most of her friends out riding in at once.

"Oh, who is that?" she cried.

"Man. Don't know him," said Gummy, cheerfully, as the single occupant of the tonneau stepped out of the car and entered the gate.

He was a well-dressed man, of more than middle age, and Janice's heart began to beat faster. It did seem as though something must be about to happen.

Daddy was on the porch and she could see him greet the gentleman without rising. The stranger took a seat at Mr. Day's request.

And if Janice had been near enough to have heard the first words that pa.s.sed between them, she would have suffered a great drop in the temperature of her excitement.

"How's the leg, Broxton?" asked the visitor.

"Coming on, Randolph. What's the news?"

"Well, yes, I have news," said the lawyer, nodding.

"I know it. Or you would not have found time to get up into this part of the town. Well, what can you tell Mrs. Carringford?"

"Nothing much about that Mullen Lane property, I fear, that she will want to hear."

"Too bad, too bad," said Broxton Day. "I am sorry for her. She is a hard working woman--and proud. No chance of helping her?"

"I can settle the case for five hundred dollars. I cannot connect Abel Strout with this shake-down--for that is what it is.

The woman up in Michigan never heard of her great-uncle's property down here till this little Schrimpe told her. But we can't connect him with Strout. Strout's skirts are clear. And this Schrimpe had a perfect legal right to drum up trade. He's that kind of lawyer," said Mr. Payne, with disgust.

"Five hundred dollars--and she will still owe Abel Strout a thousand on the mortgage," sighed Mr. Day.

"Yes. But I suppose, in time, the property will be worth it."

"It's worth it now," said Mr. Day. "That is what is the matter with Strout. But Mrs. Carringford hasn't the money to spare.

And at the present time n.o.body would put a second mortgage on the property."

"I suppose the woman up in Michigan gets about twenty-five--maybe fifty--dollars out of it. That would settle any quitclaim of this character. Half a dozen other heirs were bought off at the time; but she was overlooked. The rest of the five hundred Mrs.

Carringford can raise it--will be split between Schrimpe and his princ.i.p.al."

"There are some mighty mean people in this world," said Broxton Day, grimly.