He played,too,as Perry Larson had wagered.But it was not the tragedy of the closed bank,nor the honor of the threatened farm-selling that fell from his violin.It was,instead,the swan song of a little pile of gold--gold which lay now in a chimney cupboard,but which was soon to be placed at the feet of the mourning man and woman downstairs.And in the song was the sob of a boy who sees his house of dreams burn to ashes;who sees his wonderful life and work out in the wide world turn to endless days of weed-pulling and dirt-digging in a narrow valley.There was in the song,too,something of the struggle,the fierce yea and nay of the conflict.But,at the end,there was the wild burst of exaltation of renunciation,so that the man in the barn door below fairly sprang to his feet with an angry:--"Gosh!if he hain't turned the thing into a jig--durn him!Don't he know more'n that at such a time as this?"Later,a very little later,the shadowy figure of the boy stood before him.
"I've been thinking,"stammered David,"that maybe I--could help,about that money,you know.""Now,look a-here,boy,"exploded Perry,in open exasperation,"as I said in the first place,this ain't in your class.'T ain't no pink cloud sailin'in the sky,nor a bluebird singin'in a blackb'rry bush.An'you might 'play it'--as you call it--till doomsday,an''t wouldn't do no good--though I'm free ter confess that your playin'of them 'ere other things sounds real pert an'chirky at times;but 't won't do no good here."David stepped forward,bringing his small,anxious face full into the moonlight.
"But 't was the money,Perry;I meant about,the money,"he explained."They were good to me and wanted me when there wasn't any one else that did;and now I'd like to do something for them.
There aren't so MANY pieces,and they aren't silver.There's only one hundred and six of them;I counted.But maybe they 'd help some.It--it would be a--start."His voice broke over the once beloved word,then went on with renewed strength."There,see!Would these do?"And with both hands he held up to view his cap sagging under its weight of gold.
Perry Larson's jaw fell open.His eyes bulged.Dazedly he reached out and touched with trembling fingers the heap of shining disks that seemed in the mellow light like little earth-born children of the moon itself.The next instant he recoiled sharply.
"Great snakes,boy,where'd you git that money?"he demanded.
"Of father.He went to the far country,you know."Perry Larson snorted angrily.
"See here,boy,for once,if ye can,talk horse-sense!Surely,even YOU don't expect me ter believe that he's sent you that money from--from where he's gone to!""Oh,no.He left it."
"Left it!Why,boy,you know better!There wa'n't a cent--hardly--found on him.""He gave it to me before--by the roadside."
"Gave it to you!Where in the name of goodness has it been since?""In the little cupboard in my room,behind the books.""Great snakes!"muttered Perry Larson,reaching out his hand and gingerly picking up one of the gold-pieces.
David eyed him anxiously.
"Won't they--do?"he faltered."There aren't a thousand;there's only a hundred and six;but--""Do!"cut in the man,excitedly.He had been examining the gold-piece at close range."Do!Well,I reckon they'll do.By Jiminy!--and ter think you've had this up yer sleeve all this time!Well,I'll believe anythin'of yer now--anythin'!You can't stump me with nuthin'!Come on."And he hurriedly led the way toward the house.
"But they weren't up my sleeve,"corrected David,as he tried to keep up with the long strides of the man."I SAID they were in the cupboard in my room."There was no answer.Larson had reached the porch steps,and had paused there hesitatingly.From the kitchen still came the sound of sobs.Aside from that there was silence.The boy,however,did not hesitate.He went straight up the steps and through the open kitchen door.At the table sat the man and the woman,their eyes covered with their hands.
With a swift overturning of his cap,David dumped his burden onto the table,and stepped back respectfully.
"If you please,sir,would this--help any?"he asked.
At the jingle of the coins Simeon Holly and his wife lifted their heads abruptly.A half-uttered sob died on the woman's lips.Aquick cry came from the man's.He reached forth an eager hand and had almost clutched the gold when a sudden change came to his face.With a stern ejaculation he drew back.
"Boy,where did that money come from?"he challenged.
David sighed in a discouraged way.It seemed that,always,the showing of this gold mean't questioning--eternal questioning.
