“I want Danny and Celia Jane to see the circus, too, Mother ’Larkey,” Jerry protested. “I ain’t mad at them any more.”
“Please let them come,” urged Jerry’s mother. “I am so happy that I can’t bear to think of them being so terribly disappointed. And Gary’s pleasure would be spoiled knowing they were here at home while the rest of you were at the circus.”
“It does seem hard-hearted,” Mrs. Mullarkey relented, “but Danny knows he can’t pick on Jerry and not suffer for it. They can go to the circus, but I’ll leave it to them what they shall do as a reminder that they mustn’t pick on Jerry again. Danny, what will you do?”
Danny hesitated a moment and then said without a tremor:
“Jerry can have all my marbles and I’ll feed his white rabbit for him all summer.”
“Not all your marbles?” queried Jerry, knowing what a pang it must have cost Danny voluntarily to decide to part with all his agates and glassies and pee-wees and commies and steelies.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Mullarkey, “every last one. Now, Celia Jane, stop your crying and tell us what you will do.”
“I’ll sweep the kitchen every day and do dishes without grumbling,” Celia Jane sniffled, while Danny was off upstairs at a run.
“That will remind you to be more careful,” said Mrs. Mullarkey, “and remember you are to work willingly, without any grumbling.”
“I will, Mother,” sobbed the girl.
“And now,” Jerry heard his father saying, “it is time for us to be going back to the circus and of course Helen wants Gary with her now. We’ll keep him with us for three weeks and then, when we play Hampton, I’ll bring him back here for the rest of the summer. When our season closes we’ll come for him and take him to Carroll.”
“And we hope you will decide to move there, too, Mrs. Mullarkey,” said Mrs. Bowe.
“I will if Mr. Bowe thinks it will be best for the children,” she replied.
“I do think it so,” said Whiteface. “To-morrow I’ll mail you a check for one hundred dollars and the rest of the thousand I’ll send to you as you want it. We’ll arrange that when I bring Gary back. I have nothing with me now, as I haven’t any pocket in these clothes.”
“I have,” said Mrs. Bowe and took several bills from her bag and pressed them into Mrs. Mullarkey’s hands.
“I can’t thank you,” said Mother ’Larkey. “I don’t know how.”
“You’ve loved Gary, Mrs. Mullarkey. He wouldn’t love you so much if you hadn’t. That is more thanks than I want. We owe more than thanks to you. Tell them good-by, Gary. We must start.”
Jerry was awfully glad that he had found his parents and that he was going with them and was much excited at the thought of traveling with the circus for three whole weeks and getting real well acquainted with Great Sult Anna O’Queen, but his throat grew all lumpy at the thought of leaving kindly Mother ’Larkey, loving Kathleen and gentle Nora and Chris and—yes, and Danny and Celia Jane, too.