The Chance of a Lifetime (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill
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“But how do you know what he may do in Egypt? Do you trust him?”
“Sure! I think he’ll make good. He used to be crazy about old Hodge. It was the only thing we ever had in common. I think maybe he’ll turn out all right. He’s keen on the job.”
Sherrill had been buttering thin slices of bread for sandwiches, and now she turned around with the knife in her hand and her eyes bright.
“Alan, I think you’re just wonderful!” she said, with a shining look.
“Nothing of the kind, Sherry. I’ve just had to grind my teeth all day to keep from boohooing because I can’t go myself.”
“Well, I think you’re wonderful!” stated Sherrill again, whirling back to her buttering. “This may be the chance of Bob’s life, but I’m inclined to think you’ve got a bigger one yet coming to you. Now, these are ready. Get the pitcher out of the right-hand door, please. And put that plate of cake on the tray. I’ll take these in.”
“Say, this is some set out, Sherry!” said Alan, surveying the burdened tray. “But I’m glad you did it. I believe that kid is really hungry.”
Sherry flashed him a glad look and led the way with her plate of delicate sandwiches.
Bob looked up from the letter he had copied, his face flushed with eagerness, and a radiant smile that made him seem like a new person, not the boy they had disliked through the last three years of high school.
“Boy!” said Bob. “That certainly looks good! You two people are making me feel I’m leaving some real friends when I go away. I didn’t think I’d ever regret leaving this little old burg, but I certainly think I’ve missed a lot not having you people for friends. No, don’t say anything. I know you likely wouldn’t care for me any more than you ever did if I stayed, but let me go away with the illusion that you would, can’t you? A fellow has to have someone to tie to!”
“You make us ashamed, Bob, that we have been so unfriendly,” said Sherrill. “Won’t you put it this way, that we just haven’t got to know the real you? We didn’t mean to be horrid, really we didn’t.”
“You make me feel more than ashamed, Bob,” said Alan, laying a friendly arm across the other’s shoulder. “Let’s make up for the loss from now on, shall we? What say we’ll be real partners in this job across the sea. You’re the representative on the field, and I’m the home correspondent or something.”
“Okay with me,” said Bob heartily. “Boy, you don’t know how it feels to have you say that. I can’t ever thank—”
“Cut it out, pard!” said Alan huskily. “Here, have some more lemonade.”
They had a merry time and ate up every scrap of sandwich and every crumb of cake, drinking the lemonade to the last drop. Then suddenly Bob Lincoln sprang up.
“I must go!” he declared, looking at his watch. “It’s awfully late, and I’ve got a lot of work cut out for me tomorrow. First I’ve got to hand in my resignation to the Rockland Canning Factory, which same I shall enjoy doing; and then I’ve got to get all that junk in that list together and pack. There’s a few things in that list I don’t believe I can compass, but I don’t reckon it matters. I’ve learned pretty much to get along without things lately anyhow,” and he laughed a careless little ripple, the kind he had been used to giving to cover his angry feelings.
Sherrill and Alan looked at him with sudden comprehension. This was the old Bob they had not liked. Had it been that he covered up his loneliness with this attitude and they had not understood him?
Then Alan spoke quickly. “Look here, old man,” he said, “you and I have got to have a good talk fest tonight. Suppose you come home with me for the night. Then we can get everything thrashed out. You know we’re partners. You’re taking my place, and it’s sort of up to me to see that you have everything in your outfit you need. Yes, that’s my part. Come on, old boy, let’s get down to brass tacks!”
Bob looked at Alan with sudden wonder.
“You’re great!” he said, with deep feeling in his voice. “What a fool I was! I used to think all that church going you did was just a pose. I called you a hypocrite once right in the school yard! And I believed you were. But now I see— Well, I can’t tell you how I feel about this. I’m not going to let you do anything more for me of course, but—it’s awfully decent and fine of you to talk that way.”
“Come along, pard!” said Alan laughing. “We’ll settle our differences in private. Come, we haven’t any time to waste.”
Alan gave him a push toward the door, but he paused before Sherrill.
“Good night, Sherrill,” Bob said earnestly. “You’ve given me an awfully nice evening, and I shall always remember it. I used to think you were a snob, but now I see you’re real. I can’t thank you enough for letting me in on this pleasant evening.”
Sherrill went to the door with them and called a happy good-night, watching them go down the walk, Alan’s arm flung across Bob’s shoulders as if they had been comrades for years.
Suddenly Alan turned and sprang back toward her.
“I’m carrying some of your property, Sherry.” He laughed, handing her a handkerchief. “You dropped this under the hammock when we came into the house, and I absentmindedly put it in my pocket.”
Their fingers touched as Sherrill took her handkerchief, and she heard Alan’s low whisper, “It was great of you to do that, Sherry. He thinks you’re wonderful, and I can’t thank you enough.”
“Oh, I was glad to have a part in it, Alan,” whispered Sherrill, “and say, Alan, I’ve been thinking. I shouldn’t wonder if, after all, this would turn out to be the chance of your lifetime. I think you’ve gone a long way toward saving Bob!”
He gave her fingers a squeeze and sprang back to Bob and they walked down the street, whistling together an old school song, a thing they never had done before.
“Who was that other boy, Sherrill?” asked her mother, looking up with pleasant curiosity in her face.
“That was Bob Lincoln, Mother.”
“What! Not the Lincoln boy that Alan dislikes so much? Not the boy that made so much trouble in school and was always doing wild things? Not the one that Alan fought with?”
“Yes, Mother,” laughed Sherrill. “The same boy, but you’d be surprised how nice he is, and how grateful he was for the sandwiches and cake. He hadn’t had much supper. You know his sister died not long ago, and he has to get his meals almost anywhere.”
“Well, but, my dear! How did he come to call on you? I’m sure he’s not the kind of boy you would want to have for a friend. I hope he isn’t going to start in now and bother you coming here. I’m sure your brother would not like it at all. Keith is very particular about you, you know.”
“Oh,