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Authors: Charlotte MacLeod
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Elmer.”
Flushing and glowering, the younger Bain obeyed. The three of them sat in sullen silence until Marion appeared, dressed and with her hair combed. She wasn’t wasting any time on small talk, either.
“Look, Mr. Bain, I told you I’d get in touch with you when I find that patent, so why don’t you quit bugging me? You know we’ve had a death in the family.”
“I know,” he replied. “I’m a reasonable man, Miz Em’ry. I could go down to Fred Olson this minute an’ swear out a warrant, but things bein’ as they are, I’ve decided to give you till the end of the week. An’ my son Elmer here’s goin’ to stay an’ make sure you don’t try to put nothin’ over on me.”
“What are you talking about?” yelped Marion. “He can’t stay here.”
“That so? Elmer, you just lug that there grip o’ yours upstairs an’ find a place to bed down. Go on, move!”
Marion turned to Janet, her face an interesting shade of pale green. “What shall I do?”
Janet shrugged. The only thing she knew against Elmer was that he was a Bain. “Well, I don’t know, Marion,” she replied cautiously, “if you and Gilly want to take in a boarder, I don’t see why you shouldn’t. What with the inheritance being tied up and Gilly’s getting burned out, people will surely understand that you might need the money.”
“What money?” roared the father.
“Yours or his, we don’t care which,” Janet told him sweetly. “Surely you wouldn’t want to start talk around town that your son was being supported by a couple of women? If Elmer wants to pay his share and behave himself, he’s welcome enough. If not, as you say, a person could always go down to Fred Olson and swear out a warrant.”
Marion stuck out her jaw. “Yeah, that’s right. And don’t think I wouldn’t.”
“Now, look here, Paw,” stammered Elmer, “I’m not about to stick my nose in where I’m not wanted.”
“Who’s not wanted?” Gilly had appeared in the doorway, cradling a dachshund in her arms. “Oh hi, Elmer. I thought you were Dr. Bottleby.”
“Hi, Gilly. How’s the pup?”
“Perking up a little, I think. Come and have a look, eh?”
The pair of them drifted off together. The rest hardly noticed their leaving; they were too busy wrangling over who was going to pay how much to whom. At last the old man wrenched a ten and a twenty off the wad he took from his hip pocket and stamped out, fuming.
“I hope I did right,” said Marion, looking nervously down at the serene profile of Her Gracious Majesty on the uppermost bill.
“I don’t know what else you could have done, short of calling out the Mounties,” Janet replied. “Anyway, at least Elmer’s got a car.” The Bains must have arrived in separate vehicles, for a tidy-looking Ford was still sitting in front of the Mansion.
“I just hope to God that patent turns up soon,” Marion sighed. “What with Bain pestering me and Elizabeth chewing my ear about the estate, I’m ready to fold up. Ah the hell with it. At least we’ve got grocery money now. Maybe I can get Buffalo Bill there to drive me down to market and back.”
“Tell him he’ll have to if he expects to be fed. Speaking of food, I’ve got to get home. That’s our last loaf of bread I gave you, and Bert will be in for his dinner before I’ve even made the beds, at the rate I’m going.”
As Janet crossed the yard, a scrap of schoolyard gossip she hadn’t thought of for years floated back into her mind. Hadn’t Elmer been sweet on Gilly once, and didn’t Mrs. Druffitt raise the roof about it? That wasn’t so hard to understand. What respectable family would want to get tied up with old Jase? Elmer must take after his mother. Mrs. Bain had died some time ago, probably in order to shuck her husband. She’d been a schoolteacher, as Janet recalled, and some said she’d taken him in desperation, after having given up any other hope of getting “Mrs.” on her tombstone.
The Bains must
Flushing and glowering, the younger Bain obeyed. The three of them sat in sullen silence until Marion appeared, dressed and with her hair combed. She wasn’t wasting any time on small talk, either.
“Look, Mr. Bain, I told you I’d get in touch with you when I find that patent, so why don’t you quit bugging me? You know we’ve had a death in the family.”
“I know,” he replied. “I’m a reasonable man, Miz Em’ry. I could go down to Fred Olson this minute an’ swear out a warrant, but things bein’ as they are, I’ve decided to give you till the end of the week. An’ my son Elmer here’s goin’ to stay an’ make sure you don’t try to put nothin’ over on me.”
“What are you talking about?” yelped Marion. “He can’t stay here.”
“That so? Elmer, you just lug that there grip o’ yours upstairs an’ find a place to bed down. Go on, move!”
Marion turned to Janet, her face an interesting shade of pale green. “What shall I do?”
Janet shrugged. The only thing she knew against Elmer was that he was a Bain. “Well, I don’t know, Marion,” she replied cautiously, “if you and Gilly want to take in a boarder, I don’t see why you shouldn’t. What with the inheritance being tied up and Gilly’s getting burned out, people will surely understand that you might need the money.”
“What money?” roared the father.
“Yours or his, we don’t care which,” Janet told him sweetly. “Surely you wouldn’t want to start talk around town that your son was being supported by a couple of women? If Elmer wants to pay his share and behave himself, he’s welcome enough. If not, as you say, a person could always go down to Fred Olson and swear out a warrant.”
Marion stuck out her jaw. “Yeah, that’s right. And don’t think I wouldn’t.”
“Now, look here, Paw,” stammered Elmer, “I’m not about to stick my nose in where I’m not wanted.”
“Who’s not wanted?” Gilly had appeared in the doorway, cradling a dachshund in her arms. “Oh hi, Elmer. I thought you were Dr. Bottleby.”
“Hi, Gilly. How’s the pup?”
“Perking up a little, I think. Come and have a look, eh?”
The pair of them drifted off together. The rest hardly noticed their leaving; they were too busy wrangling over who was going to pay how much to whom. At last the old man wrenched a ten and a twenty off the wad he took from his hip pocket and stamped out, fuming.
“I hope I did right,” said Marion, looking nervously down at the serene profile of Her Gracious Majesty on the uppermost bill.
“I don’t know what else you could have done, short of calling out the Mounties,” Janet replied. “Anyway, at least Elmer’s got a car.” The Bains must have arrived in separate vehicles, for a tidy-looking Ford was still sitting in front of the Mansion.
“I just hope to God that patent turns up soon,” Marion sighed. “What with Bain pestering me and Elizabeth chewing my ear about the estate, I’m ready to fold up. Ah the hell with it. At least we’ve got grocery money now. Maybe I can get Buffalo Bill there to drive me down to market and back.”
“Tell him he’ll have to if he expects to be fed. Speaking of food, I’ve got to get home. That’s our last loaf of bread I gave you, and Bert will be in for his dinner before I’ve even made the beds, at the rate I’m going.”
As Janet crossed the yard, a scrap of schoolyard gossip she hadn’t thought of for years floated back into her mind. Hadn’t Elmer been sweet on Gilly once, and didn’t Mrs. Druffitt raise the roof about it? That wasn’t so hard to understand. What respectable family would want to get tied up with old Jase? Elmer must take after his mother. Mrs. Bain had died some time ago, probably in order to shuck her husband. She’d been a schoolteacher, as Janet recalled, and some said she’d taken him in desperation, after having given up any other hope of getting “Mrs.” on her tombstone.
The Bains must
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