“No,” said John Thomas.
“Eh?”
“I forgot to tell you. The Museum can settle the claims, since I can’t and after all Lummox did it. But I’m not going to take any money. I’d feel like Judas.”
His mother said sharply, “John Thomas! I won’t let you. . .”
“Better not say it, Mum,” he said dangerously. “You know what Dad would have thought.”
“Hrrumph!” Mr. Perkins cleared his throat loudly. “I’m going to fill in the usual legal fiction of a nominal sum. I won’t stay longer; Judge O’Farrell told me that he goes to bed at ten. Mrs. Stuart, I consider the Museum bound by my offer. Mr. Stuart, I’ll leave you to settle with your mother in your own way. Good night all!” He shoved the bill of sale in his pocket and left quickly.
An hour later they were still facing each other wearily and angrily across the living room. John Thomas had let himself be bullied into conceding that his mother could take the money, as long as he was not required to touch it. He had given this in exchange, he thought, for permission to accept the job with Lummox.
But she shook her head. “Quite out of the question. After all, you are about to go to college. You couldn’t take that beast along. So you had no reason to expect to keep him with you anyhow.”
“Huh? But I thought you had meant to take care of him. . . the way you promised Dad. . .and I would have seen him on week ends.”
“Keep your father out of this! I might as well tell you right now that I made up my mind long ago that the day you went away to school this household would cease to be a zoo. This present mix-up has simply moved up the date a few days.”
He stared at her, unable to answer.
Presently she came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Johnnie? Johnnie dear. . .”
“Huh?”
“Look at me, darling. We’ve had some bitter words and I’m sorry they were ever spoken. . . I’m sure you did not mean them. But Mum has only been thinldng of your welfare, you know that? Don’t you?”
“Uh, I suppose so.”
“That’s all Mum ever thinks about. . . what’s best for her big boy. You’re young, and when a person is young, things seem important that aren’t. But as you grow older, you will find that Mum knew best. Don’t you see that?”
“Well. . . Mum, about that job. If I could only. . .”
“Please, dear. Mother has a splitting headache. We’ll say no more about it now. Get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow you’ll see things differently.” She patted his cheek, bent down and kissed him. “Good night, dear.”
“G’night.”
He sat there long after she had gone up, trying to figure things out. He knew that he should feel good. . . he’d saved Lummie; hadn’t he?
But he did not feel good; he felt like an animal that has chewed a leg off to escape a trap. . . shock and misery, not relief.
At last he got up and went outside to see Lummox.
VIII. The Sensible Thing To Do
John Thomas stayed with Lummox a short time only, as he could not bear to tell him the truth and there was nothing else to talk about. Lummox sensed his distress and asked questions; at last John Thomas pulled himself together and said, “There’s nothing wrong I tell you! Shut up and go to sleep. And be darn sure you stay in the yard, or I’ll beat you bow-legged.”
“Yes, Johnnie. I don’t like it outside anyway. People did funny things.”
“Just remember that and don’t do it again.”
“I won’t Johnnie. Cross my heart.”
John Thomas went in and up to bed. But he did not go to sleep. After a while he got up, dressed in part, and went up to the attic. The house was very old and. had a real garret, reached by a ladder and scuttle hole in an upper hallway closet. Once there had been a proper staircase but it had been squeezed out when the landing flat was built on the roof, as the space had been needed for the lazy lift.