A man approached leading Midget and interest being for the moment
diverted from himself Hal made his escape.
In a doorway he spied Louise and Carl.
"Oh, it was wonderful of you, Hal!" his sister murmured.
"It was just lucky," Hal returned a bit gruffly. "Come on! Let's get
out of this push. We'll be late for supper if we don't hike along."
And it was characteristic of Hal Harling that this was the only
allusion he made to the adventure.
CHAPTER IV
PROBLEMS
Although temporarily buoyed up by the episode of the afternoon Carl
McGregor returned home with spirits at a lower ebb than they had been
for many a day. To be out of work was a very real tragedy in the world
in which he lived. He knew only too well how indispensable was money
and that the necessity of it was even greater in the Harling home than
in his own. The Harlings, alas, had no absent Uncle Frederick to fall
back upon. On the contrary the entire upkeep of their home and family
fell upon the young shoulders of the boy and girl who toiled at the
spinning mills. Now with Louise out of the race Hal would be left alone
with all the burden, and whether he would be able to carry so heavy a
one was a question. Undoubtedly he would not be forced to bear it for
long. Louise would find employment--she must find it. Did not the need
compel it? And was she not far too capable a worker to be out of a
place? Why, scores of people would seek her help eagerly when once it
was known her assistance was available.
Sound as these arguments were, however, facts did not bear them out.
Apparently nobody in Baileyville wished help, no matter how excellent
its quality. Every night the report from the Harlings was the
same--Louise could find nothing to do. Even Mrs. McGregor who was
ordinarily able to straighten out every sort of tangle had no remedy
for the present pitiable dilemma. The only employment it was in her
power to secure for the girl was fine sewing and Louise, restricted by
her factory training, could not sew. A week went by and still nothing
presented itself. Mrs. Harling and the aged grandfather, from whom the
calamity had been kept as long as it was possible to conceal it, at
length took up the worry.
"Whatever is going to become of us now?" bewailed each in turn.
"Where's the food and rent coming from?"
Hal fidgeted.
Every day he looked more harrowed and distressed, and the smile that
had formerly come so spontaneously came now with an effort. He had
taken on an extra job evenings, that of delivery boy for the local
grocer. It did not bring in much, to be sure, and it kept him on his
feet at the end of the day when often he was too tired to stand.
However, all these disadvantages were lost sight of in the few
additional dollars derived from the makeshift.
"Mother says you can't keep this up, old chap," remarked Carl dismally.
"She says you will be getting tired out and sick and then where will
you be?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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