I put my hands on his shoulders and with all the affection at my command I invited his confidence.  “What is it, son?  I’m an old woman, but maybe I can help you.  Let me try.”

He lifted his hands to mine and his grasp was painful.  The dim light from the old bronze lantern reflected the tears in his eyes as he answered:  “Help me?  You have in a thousand ways.  I’ll soon be all right.  I’m just a little over-worked.  Haven’t slept much lately.  Need rest.”

Then leaning near with sudden tenderness:  “Heaven bless you, dear woman.  You have been as good to me as my own mother.  Some day—­perhaps.  Good-night.  Don’t worry, Miss Jenkins.”

Why didn’t he throw me over into a bramble patch and tell me not to get scratched?  I just leaned my old head up against the gate and cried.

I returned to the house by a rear door, for Jane was in the living-room.

XVI

ENTER KOBU, THE DETECTIVE

The compensation of the morning’s belated brightness came in the golden glory with which it flooded the world, so warm it melted the hoar frost jewels on tree and shrub, so tender the drooping roses lifted their pink heads and blushed anew.  It was the kind of a morning one knew that something was waiting just ahead.  It required no feat of intellect for me to know that a great many somethings awaited my little household.  Whenever I arose in the morning feeling sentimental, something was sure to happen.  The afternoon of this day was the appointed time for the “roof-raising festival” of Jane’s hospital.  Three o’clock was the hour set to begin the ceremonies, but early morning found Jane and Zura as busy collecting books, bundles and a folding baby-organ, as if moving day had fallen upon the household.  Neither one of my companions seemed depressed by the happenings of the night before, or else they were determined that every other thought should be put aside till the roof was safely over the dream of Jane’s life.  Jinrickishas piled high with baskets of refreshments and decorations moved gaily down the street.  Jane and Zura, laughing like two schoolgirls and as irrepressible, headed the little procession.

I waved them good luck and went back to my work and my thoughts.  I was interrupted by a note that came from Page in answer to one of mine, saying a slight fever would prevent his accepting the invitation to go with me to the exercises in the afternoon, but he hoped to see us at the house later in the evening.  Of course he meant us in general, Zura particularly, and it might be fever or it might be other things that kept him away from Jane’s tea party.  I was going to know in either case as soon as I could get Page Hanaford by himself.  Right or wrong I would help him all I could, but know I must and would.  I simply could not live through another day of anxiety.

If Page told me his trouble, there was no reason why it would fade away, and my anxiety cease to be, but having made up my mind to act definitely, my spirits rose like a clay pigeon released by a spring.