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About Medford mail tribune. (Medford, Or.) 1909-1989 | View Entire Issue (March 8, 1959)
jar ing loneliness of a crowded apartment house to look across an empty breakfast table to long for the family they'd not been able to have to live again. Bill would have his pension, and with her small salary as a filing clerk they could get by. Laurie went past the car and walked quickly up the gravel drive, rutted and lined with weeds. The little house with the old-fashioned gables was just as beautiful to her eyes as ever perhaps even more so now that Charles Drummond was trying to buy it out from under her. As she got to the corner of the porch, Pete Stinson's cracked voice came to her. "I tell you I can't do any different, Mr. Drummond," Peter was saying. "Them young folks need the Place and I already told her they could nave it. It isn't the money with me I'll have enough for what I need but I want to live the years I got left with a clear conscience, and I sure couldn't if I turned around and sold the place to you just because you offered me more money!" Drummond harrumphed in reply, hen his deep rumble overrode the ;,rmbling voice of the old man. You're being downright stubborn, Stinson. Think of all the added com forts the extra money will buy you, and besides, those young people can find a better place at substantially the same price." In her mind, as she unwillingly eavesdropped, Laurie could picture the shake of the shaggy white head. "No use to argue with me, Mr. Drummond. She's to be here this morning to close the deal, and a deal it is. I've always been a little man in the affairs of the world, Mr. Drum mond, but one thing I've prided my self on is keeping my word. Maybe this is the last time I'll have a chance to be stubborn and lose something by it, but by Harry I'll do it!" Laurie saw a bulky figure bearing down on her from the rickety porch, then Drummond was past with a snort and a glare in her direction, but not a word. She raced up the steps and into the house with the world all alive around her again. That Peter Stinson would do such a thing Peter grinned self-consciously and swiped at the moist, lipstick imprint on his leathery cheek. "I saw you coming and thought I'd say it loud enough for you to hear. Some men think all they've got to do is open their pocketbooks and folks like me will do anything. Now, Mrs. Harwood, if you have the bank draft, here are all the papers clean and clear . . ." After peter stinson had gone, Laurie stood in the middle of the front room and gazed about her, at the remnants of a once-fine interior. Her head was filled with plans for restoring it as fully as work and love could manage. She leaned her head against the mantel and closed her eyes in a prayer of thankfulness for people like Peter Stinson. At that moment she heard the steps crunch up the gravel drive and onto the porch. It was Drummond, his face sour and defeated. "Well, young woman," he growled, "I suppose you're quite satisfied with yourself!" Laurie found it impossible to be angry, happy as she was. "I am, Mr. Drummond. I wanted this place more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, and now I have it. I'm truly sorry if you wanted it as badly, but you must remember I did see Peter Stinson first and he had accepted my offer before you came to see him." "I know I know." Drummond brushed past her into the front room, then wheeled to stab a sausagelike forefinger at her. "I wonder if you could possibly understand why I want it." He stopped, thought a moment, then shook his head. "No I don't think you could. Well, I might as well tell you." He turned and stumped to the far wall, where he took a white handker chief from his breast pocket, moistened the coiner of it, and rubbed gently at the dull oak paneling that covered two walls of the room. "Come here," he ordered gruffly. "Look at that," he said softly, with something close to reverence in his tone. "Only years can do that to wood. I found out too late that this paneling existed, and you beat me here." Laurie looked at Drummond in surprise: the harsh lines of his face had softened and he was seemingly a different person. Where he had rubbed off the soot and grime, the wood grain stood out in rich tones. He gently passed his fingers over it as he shook his head regretfully. Laurie realized that she had com pletely misjudged the man there was something about The Little Place he loved, too. Her hand went to his arm impulsively. "I didn't know it isn't that I wanted to be mean about it, but Bill and I " She stopped, unable to go on. Drummond's other hand came over to pat hers. "We do what we feel we have to," he said, then added, "Don't think I'm a collector of things like this, or that I wanted it so I could sell it to some millionaire and make a profit on it." His eyes went again to the glowing spot of rubbed wood. "I wanted it for myself, and still do." He turned to her decisively, his brusque self again. "Young woman, to impress a man like Stinson so deeply, you must really have something on the ball. Don't mind telling you I'm a bit impressed myself." Laurie stood helpless and em barrassed, not knowing what to say. "Now I'll tell you what I'll do," he said briskly. "Your main object is the house as a whole, right?" When she nodded, he went on. "Going to take a lot of fixing up. So that's where I come in, if you'll listen to reason. I want the paneling for my own house down on the Sound, and if you'll let . me have it I'll have expert workmen take it out, replace it with a reason able imitation, and fix up the rest of the place the way you want it. What do you say?" Laurie .could say nothing. The long years of saving, the skimping, the despair at the slowness with which the house money piled up now by the grace of God and the intense love of an old man for something even older to live with, there would be money enough and to spare. As for the paneling, there was still time for her and Bill to have some cut from their own oak trees and grow old with it. "You can look for my workmen tomorrow," Drummond said, then rumbled a soft laugh. "Here Here, now! Crying women always shrink my lapels." Laurie hiccuped, nodded, and went on crying against the rough tweed of his coat. Family Weekly, March S, 1959 21 'lllllllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIi 1 Quiz I ! DENTURE I WEARERS 1 Yes No Is your denture cleans- ( i i er a slow-acting pow- I I I I I der? A kitchen scourer that "roughs" your den tures? , A toothpaste made for natural teeth? I I I I A laundry bleach, pos- I I I sibly poisonous, that I i I I may discolor dentures? If answer is "Yes" to any ques tion, switch to new Dr.. West's INSTA- CLEAN Denture Cleanser. Sure, Safe, Fast. Re moves film and odor-breeding bacteria in just 2 to 5 minutes. Leaves refreshing "breath of mint." Ask for it today. 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