The Chance of a Lifetime (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill
friends are always welcome,” she said, “and you won’t disturb anybody. Alan’s room is over in the tower, and nobody can hear you talk.”
“I wish I had a mother,” said Bob, as they entered Alan’s room and the light was switched on. “Gee! It must be great! I hardly remember mine.”
Then he looked around Alan’s room.
“Say, boy! If I had a room like this and a mother like yours, you couldn’t drag me to Egypt. I’d stay right here in my home!”
Alan looked at him and then gave a swift glance about his room, with its comfortable furnishings and its evidences on every hand that his tastes and conveniences were consulted.
“Well, there’s something in that!” He grinned. “It is pretty comfortable here. I hadn’t thought of it, but it would be something to leave. However, let’s get down to brass tacks. Let’s run over that list and see what you need to get. Here. Sit down in that big chair. You look all in. I certainly wish I’d known you before and sometimes shared my home with you.”
Bob dropped into the offered chair.
“Boy!” he said. “What I’ve missed!”
And then the two went to work in earnest on the list.
When they finally turned in, there was a good understanding and a hearty liking between them that neither would have believed possible a few hours before. It was with genuine regret that they parted next morning, after eating breakfast together and walking downtown as far as the bank. Alan had insisted that he should be allowed to provide whatever of outfit Bob didn’t have but finally succeeded only in getting him to accept a loan until he could repay it. They stopped at the bank and Alan cashed a check from his own private, precious fund he had been saving toward a new car.
“This is coming back to you the very first bit of salary I can spare from actual expenses,” said Bob as he slipped the roll of bills in his inside pocket.
“If you scrimp yourself, old boy, I’ll take it unkindly. Remember you must keep in good condition, and this is the only share I can have in this affair. It really makes me feel good to have this much.”
“You can’t know how I appreciate it.” Bob beamed with a hearty grip of the other boy’s hand. “And the strange thing about it is, I wouldn’t have taken a red cent from you twenty-four hours before, if I lost all the chances in the universe. That’s how different I feel toward you.”
“Same here!” Alan grinned sheepishly. “What fools we were, pard! Might have had three years to look back upon. What a team we could have made out of that high school scrub if we had just hooked up forces instead of fighting! Hope I remember this lesson always.”
They parted at the street corner, Bob promising to report late that evening and spend the night again with Alan, since he was leaving for New York early the next morning.
As soon as he was alone, the burden of his father’s responsibilities settled down upon Alan’s shoulders heavily. The day looked long and hard before him. He must try to get in touch with the judge again. Perhaps he would have to run up to the city to see those real estate people on the ten o’clock train. How hot the sun seemed, and how uninteresting his own part in life! His heart was going shopping with Bob and selecting the right sweaters and shoes for the trip. But life was not all trips to Egypt. He had business that should engross his every energy.
In the store was a great pile of mail. Another letter of threatening portent from the enemy, with an undertone of assurance that made him uneasy. If he could only read just this one letter to Dad and see what he thought ought to be done about it. But that, of course, was out of the question.
The day proved to be even harder than he had feared. The judge was out of town. Nobody knew just when he would return. Meantime, he would have to act as if he were not going to return, for time was short and the crisis extreme.
He took the ten o’clock train for the city and chased a member of the real estate company for two hours, from place to place, finally locating him at his office at two o’clock—only to find that the purchaser who’d been so anxious to buy the city lots a few weeks before had gone to Europe for the summer, and the only price that could be raised on them quickly would be so inadequate that it was hardly worth the sacrifice.
The two or three other reliable mortgage and loan companies that his father had suggested seemed unwilling to undertake negotiations outside of the city, and at five o’clock, with all offices closing and no idea what to do next, Alan took the train for Rockland again, weary, downhearted, and hungry, not having had time to stop for lunch. He would like to have put his head down on the car windowsill and cried, though it was years since he had shed a tear. The breeze that swept in at the window was hot to suffocation, and perhaps reminded him of the desert to which he was not going. He tried, as he closed his eyes, to send up a sort of prayer, but it seemed so utterly desultory that he felt as if it had not reached the car ceiling.
Oh, God, please do something for me about this mortgage! I’m all in, and I don’t know what to do. Please, for Dad’s sake, don’t let me wreck the business because I’m dumb. Show me where to go and what to do! And help me not to keep thinking about Egypt like a crybaby!
That was his prayer that went over and over, inarticulately, till the train arrived in Rockland.
CHAPTER III
Alan looked anxiously out of the car window as he swung to his feet in the aisle, with a vague hope that perhaps he might catch a glimpse of the tall form of Judge Whiteley looming up among the people on the platform. But all he saw was Bob Lincoln with his arms full of bundles, watching the people coming out of the car, an eager look on his face, a light in his eyes that somehow brought a strange new thrill to Alan’s heart as he realized that this young man, who had been his enemy, was looking for him.
He felt inexplicably glad when he saw the smile that broke over Bob’s face at the sight of him. The other boy rushed forward and greeted him eagerly. “I thought perhaps you’d be on this train,” he said, falling alongside and fitting his stride to Alan’s. “The boy you left in the store told me you’d gone to town, so I took a chance and met the train. Just thought I’d like to report progress and show you this wire that came from the prof this morning. Didn’t expect another word from him, so it sort of took me off my feet. You certainly must have given some line about me. I hadn’t any reason to expect any such send-off from you. I feel like two cents to think how I sized you up. I always thought you’d like to wipe the earth with me, but you’ve certainly made me feel ashamed. Why, man, your recommend must have been a crackerjack! Just gaze on that!” And he handed Alan a telegram.
Glad you are going! I remember you favorably. Don’t worry about the qualifications. Anyone Macfarland recommends is worth getting. Shall reserve you as my personal assistant. Meet you at twelve thirty at the ship.
Hodge.
Something glad broke loose in Alan’s heart that lifted his spirits. It was good to have this other fellow going—good to have put him into it.
“That’s great!” he said cheerily. “But I didn’t do a thing, really only suggested your name.”
“H’m!” said Bob significantly. “Shows how much your suggestion is worth. Look here, man. It’s you going on this expedition, not me. See? All the time I’m gone, I’m thinking that, see? I’m you, not myself. I’ve got to be what you would be if you had gone.”
Afterward, Bob’s words came back to Alan; once, months later, when he had a question as to which course of two he, as a Christian, should follow, then suddenly he remembered Bob and his way cleared. Why, that was exactly the way it was with a Christian. It wasn’t he, Alan MacFarland, that was deciding whether to do this or that, it was Jesus Christ. He was not living, Christ was living in him. Strange he had never