# Speedy (Holman)/Chapter 16

Speedy stood at the front door of the Dillon house, his hand upon the knob, his ear to the inside of the panel, listening carefully. He could hear nothing amiss. He opened the door cautiously at a crack and looked out. Then he opened the door wide and stood questioningly.
A tall, distinguished-looking, gray-haired man, a stranger to Speedy, stood in front of him. A luxurious limousine, with a trimly uniformed chauffeur in the front seat, was parked at the curb.
"Does Miss Jane Dillon live here?" asked the stranger.
Speedy nodded affirmatively.
"I should like very much to speak with her," continued the visitor.
Speedy, mystified, ushered him into the living room, indicated the best chair and went to get Jane.
"He looks like J. P. Morgan," whispered Speedy.
Both Pop and Speedy walked behind Jane as she catne to greet the new arrival. The latter arose.
"I am President Donaldson of the Inter-City Transit Company," he announced in a mild, pleasant voice. "You left a note for me, Miss Dillon. I was curious to know what it was you wished to tell me."
The thrilling events of the day, including her imprisonment, had driven from Jane's mind tem​porarily the memory of her call at the Inter-City office and her message to Mr. Donaldson. It now came back vividly to her.
"My grandfather here—"she indicated Pop—"owns the Crosstown Railways, Mr. Donaldson. We thought—at least, our friend Mr. Swift here thought—that you might be able to explain some mysterious things that have been happening to my grandfather's property during the past few days."
Jane was confused. But a certain native shrewdness, even amid her agitation, told her not to indicate any suspicion that the Inter-City might be interested in purchasing the Crosstown franchise.
Speedy was more direct and precipitate. "What Miss Dillon means," he explained, "is that a man named Carter has been pulling off a lot of dirty work up here and we have reason to suspect that he is in some way connected with your company. First he tries to have Mr. Dillon here bumped off. Then he hires the Callahan gang and orders them to put us all out of business. Finally he has the horse and car stolen, so we can't make our run and risk losing our franchise, or so he hoped."
"I can't believe that," Mr. Donaldson shook his head. This statement was not quite true. He had never completely trusted Carter.
"Then I'll prove it," promised Speedy. "Let's all sit down."
They did. Speedy told the whole story of Carter's nefarious career from the time of his arrival in De Lacey Street.
​When he had finished, President Donaldson caught his breath and said, "But Carter has bought this franchise, hasn't he?"
"He certainly has not," fairly shouted Pop Dillon, recovering his voice at last.
"Carter telephoned me this morning that he would surely have the franchise by nightfall," protested Donaldson.
"He missed his guess. Speedy here attended to that," chuckled Pop Dillon. "Carter made me several offers for the property, but I turned them all down."
Pop was trying to give an imitation of a very shrewd business man.
"In that case," said President Donaldson promptly and slowly, "perhaps you'll think better of my offer. I'll give you $75,000 spot cash for the franchise, the papers to be signed in my office within the next hour."
There was a deep silence. Pop, Jane and Speedy sat as if stunned. Pop exhaled softly and with some effort. But he felt that he simply must appear nonchalant.
"Is that your very best offer, Mr. Donaldson?" he asked, cocking his head on one side like a very smart old owl.
"It is."
"Then I'll take it," said Pop quickly, fearful now that the transit magnate would change his mind and Paradise would abruptly vanish.
"Very well. Will you ride downtown with me? My lawyer is waiting in my office, though I admit ​it was Carter whom he thought he would be doing business with," said Donaldson.
Pop got his hat.
"Like to come along, young folks?" he asked amiably, as if inviting his granddaughter and his young friend into rich men's limousines were an every-day occurrence for him. Pop was already sitting on top of the world, and looked it.
Speedy suddenly remembered something—something that would keep him there alone with Jane.
"Gosh, I can't go. I've left Nellie and the car out there in front of the house," cried Speedy. "But you go, Jane."
"No, I'll help you unhitch and feed Nellie," said Jane, smiling sweetly at him in recognition of his strategy.
As he walked out behind Mr. Donaldson, Pop, his hat set rakishly on his gray head, winked slowly.
When the front door closed behind the two others, Speedy abruptly took Jane in his arms and kissed her. She blushed happily.
"To think of that Carter shoving you into a closet. Why, you might have starved," he declared indignantly.
"I wasn't worried. I knew you'd come," declared Jane, still blushing from his caress. As he made a move to repeat the kiss, she pushed him gently away. "Come on, Harold, Nellie will be getting cold. She's had a strenuous day. She deserves her supper."
When they approached the car, they saw that someone—probably Mertz, the florist—had filled ​the whole front platform of the car with roses and other fragrant blooms from his shop. The neighbors were still congregated on the sidewalks and a knot of them stood in front of the Dillon house, attracted by the limousine and the fact that Speedy would have to appear some time and drive the car to its barn. They had cheered Pop Dillon when he had come walking out with the tall, rich-appearing stranger. They now cheered Speedy and Jane to the echo.
The ride down the street became a triumphant procession. Jane stood proudly beside Speedy as he drove. King Tut ran barking alongside them. Even old Nellie, tired as she was, raised her head and stepped like a two-year-old. De Lacey Street—men, women and children—walked along beside the car shouting and cheering. Just before Nellie turned in off the street and toward the barn, Chris Walters jumped on the step of the car and shouted above the din to Speedy, "We want both of you and Pop to come down to the barn tonight to the celebration. Where's Pop anyway?"
"He's with President Donaldson of the Inter-City selling the franchise of this line for $75,000," said Speedy proudly.
"Say, that's great! What do you know about that!" cried Chris. "Well, say, tell him to bring his friend Donaldson with him, if he'll come. We'll show the big boy some real De Lacey Street hospitality."
"I'll telephone him at Mr. Donaldson's office," promised Speedy.
​Thus it was that at the big banquet of triumph that night in the Crosstown carbarn John Donaldson sat at the right hand of Pop Dillon, who occupied the seat of honor at the head of the table. Speedy was at Pop's left, and beside Speedy and very close to him sat a very bright-eyed Jane, looking especially lovely in her white party dress. Ranged on either side of the festive board and overflowing out of the car into the barn were the celebrants.
Walters and Barnett and Mertz and Le Duc—all of them. Johnny Burke, in a brand new and neatly creased uniform, was telling everybody "what a great guy this Speedy is." For Speedy Swift had risen in two days from the rôle of the neighborhood ne'er-do-well to that of De Lacey Street's pride and joy.
Walters and the others had worked like yeomen decorating the car and barn with flowers and bunting and preparing the feast on short notice. There was even a band. And a newspaper reporter. And a man from one of the tabloid papers equipped with a camera and a flashlight that made everybody jump—and look scared to death in the paper the next morning.
Of course there was no end of speeches. Chris Walters acted as toastmaster. He hailed Pop Dillon as a sterling citizen of De Lacey Street who had weathered many storms of adversity, survived valiantly and was now the recipient of the great good luck of selling his franchise for a fortune. He called upon Pop for a response.
​Pop arose with a very full heart. He gave Speedy full credit for saving the Crosstown Railways from the forces of evil. He told the story of the boy from the time he had been left in Pop's charge by the elder Swift. At the mention of his father's name, a cloud for the first time that evening passed over Speedy's happy face. If only his father were there to share his triumph!
"Speedy was always a good boy," concluded Pop. "A little wild at times maybe. People said he wasn't steady. He had a lot of jobs and lost them so quickly that I don't believe he could remember them all himself. But folks didn't understand him. He was too full of life for them. But he's proved himself in the last few days. He's shown more good sense and ability than any boy of his age that I ever knew."
Pop glanced mischievously from Speedy to Jane. He had reserved an announcement for his climax that he knew would be a surprise even to them. But he didn't think they would mind.
"I haven't asked their permission," twinkled Pop, "but I guess now I can announce it: My granddaughter Jane and Speedy are engaged to be married, and I wouldn't want a better grandson-in-law."
Speedy and Jane were both startled. The whole banquet arose to its feet and cheered and drank the health of the newly engaged couple in ginger ale. Speedy took Jane's hand and squeezed it. He glanced at her pleadingly, asking her to confirm Pop's rather premature statement. She nodded "Yes," blushing.
​Walters and four or five other De Lacey Streeters got up and reviewed the events of the past few days, giving Speedy full credit for the victories. John Donaldson was gazing at the youth from time to time intently, sizing him up.
And then the feasters started shouting for Speedy himself to talk. He was very red of face and nervous when he finally yielded.
"There never were such friends in all the world as all of you have been to Pop and Jane and me," he declared earnestly. "I didn't do a thing that any one of you couldn't have done. And if Pop had been here, he would have accomplished everything so much better and without near as much fuss. And Jane here—she's been a peach! Pop was very easy on me when he talked about the jobs I got and lost. I don't deserve to be let off so nicely. I've been a lot of a rattle-brain. Maybe I'm one yet. Luck certainly had a lot to do with any success I may have had in the last few days. Luck—and the way you all stuck by me.
"But now I'm engaged to Jane and I'm going to try and make something out of myself. I've got something to work for. I'm just going to ask you all, including Jane, to believe in me and give me a chance until I make good."
When the applause had died down, Chris Walters, a little hesitantly, asked President Donaldson if he would like to say a few words. Donaldson willingly arose.
"First, I want to make clear that anything Steven Carter did down here was entirely without my ​knowledge and sanction," he said ringingly. "I have been suspicious of that man for a long time and, of course, I know now that he is unquestionably a shady character. But let's not discuss him on this happy occasion. I was very much interested to hear of the career of this young man whom you call Speedy—and I guess he earned the name today—and of his courage and his ability and his engagement to Mr. Dillon's charming grandaughter.
"If it is not out of order to inject a little business into such a pleasurable affair, I want to ask Mr. Swift if he will come to my office at ten o'clock next Monday morning to discuss a certain position with the Inter-City Company which is open at the present time and into which I believe a young man of his energy and ingenuity will fit very nicely. Will you, Swift?"
"You bet!" cried Speedy loudly.
There were more congratulations, and it was after midnight when the celebration broke up.
Pop, Jane and Speedy walked slowly up moonlit De Lacey Street together. All were very tired and happy. Pop was thoughtful.
"It's going to seem funny not to be driving old Nellie out in the morning and saying 'Howdy' to the neighbors on the car," he said a little sadly. "I must find a good home for Nellie somewhere out in the country and turn her out to pasture so she can get fat and lazy. I guess for $75,000 we can find her a farm where there's plenty of rich green grass, hey?"
​Jane and Speedy nodded.
"I hope you two aren't sore because I announced your engagement," said Pop slyly. "I wasn't wrong, was I?"
Jane and Speedy nodded again—reassuringly. They looked at each other.
Pop caught the meaning of their silence and their glance. When they reached the Dillon home, he made a great show of winding the clock and yawning. Then he said good night significantly and went to bed.
When they were alone, on the divan in the living room, Speedy said, "You will marry me, won't you, Jane?"
"Of course," laughed Jane. "I've meant to ever since I've known you."
Speedy murmured something foolish and swept her into his arms.
When they were apart again, he declared earnestly, "I meant every word I said at the banquet about making good. Somehow I seem to have turned from a boy into a man, all in the last few days. I was such a boob before. Now I seem suddenly to have found out what it was all about. I feel a sense of responsibility that I never had before. It all came about because the people I love—you and Pop—were in danger, and it was up to me to do something about it.
"For the first time in my life I had a burden placed on me that I couldn't run away from. I guess it's coming up against something tough that develops a fellow, isn't it?"
​Jane nodded agreement, her head on his shoulder.
"Pop says he'll give us half of what he got for the franchise when we get married," Jane offered slyly.
"Well, we won't take it," declared Speedy. "I'll make all the money we need. I'll see Mr. Donaldson and I'll get that job and I'll make good. I appreciate Pop's offer, but it isn't right to make it easy for young married people. They ought to get out and dig for a living. At least this particular young married couple will. Won't they?"
He looked at her so belligerently that she burst into soft laughter.
"You needn't get so excited about it," she chaffed. "I told Pop we wouldn't take his money a second after he offered it."
"That's right," said Speedy.
Then suddenly Jane slipped out of his arms, as she remembered something. She hurried over to the mantelpiece, above the fireplace, and took down an envelope that was lying there.
"The postman left this just before we went to the celebration," said Jane. "It's for you, Harold. It has a funny-looking stamp on it and it may be important. I was so excited about going to the banquet that I clean forgot all about it until just now."
She handed the letter to Speedy and settled down on the divan beside him. As soon as he saw the handwriting of the address, he turned pale. He quickly scrutinized the stamp and the post mark.
​"Why," he gasped uncertainly, "this must be from my father!"
Jane leaned closer as he excitedly tore open the envelope and unfolded its contents.
"Dear Son:" wrote the elder Swift, "I haven't time now to explain why you haven't heard from me in all these years. I'll be with you soon so that I can tell it to you from my own lips. It's enough to say now that I joined a scientific expedition into the interior of South America a month or so after I wrote my last letter, we ran into more adventures than I could cram into ten novels, and the remnant of our party that is left has just returned to civilization. The only redeeming feature is that we discovered a rich deposit of rare metal that has made all three of us very wealthy. We set up claims and have just equipped an expedition to go back there and work the deposits.
"I am well, as I pray that you are also. I have had more than enough of South America. I am returning to the States, leaving here next week. I am terribly anxious to see you. You must be a grown man now. I can hardly believe it. I am not allowing myself even to consider the possibility that anything amiss has happened to you or to my dear old friend Jerry Dillon and that this letter may never reach you. Give Pop my love. I will see you both soon."
Speedy's eyes were glistening as he looked from the letter to Jane.
​"That makes it perfect," he said softly. "The three people in the world I love—I'm to have them all."
Jane, her own eyes moistening suspiciously, put her arms around him. They sat silently a moment. Then she disengaged herself and ran upstairs to tell her grandfather the great news.
Pop came into the living room wearing a handsome new suit of pajamas which he had purchased that afternoon after leaving Mr. Donaldson's office. The old man had left his nightgown up at Spring Lake, so precipitously had he dashed out of that dangerous resort. He seemed to have grown ten years younger since selling his franchise.
Speedy proceeded to put an arm around each of the Dillons.
"Well, well," said Pop when he had read it. "That's great, wonderful! I always had an idea he would come back some day. He always was a tough one to knock out. And you take after him. What a week this has been for you, Speedy! Only hope it keeps up."
Speedy put an arm around each of the Dillons.
"While I've got you two, it can't help but keep up," he said stoutly.
Pop smiled.
"Sure," he said. Then he said humorously to Speedy, "Seems to me you sorta liked baseball at one time. How about all three of us going up to the Yankee Stadium tomorrow afternoon and seeing a game of the World's Series—from a box seat? ​Mr. Donaldson gave me the tickets. He's tied up at some transit hearing or something down at the City Hall."
"What could be sweeter!" whooped Speedy at once.
"And now what we all had better do is go to bed," said the sensible Jane.
"Speedy can sleep in Mr. Carter's old room," offered Pop. And added slyly, "If he ain't afraid our star boarder will come back."
"Let him come!" roared Speedy happily. "I can lick the world now!"
The End