Red-Robin | Page 7

the stories, you know," argued Dale, finding it a very pleasant and unusual sensation to act the r?le of a Prince even to a very small girl. "You have to find me, you see."
Miss Robin jumped with joy. "Oh, goody, goody! I'll always make b'lieve you are a Prince and I'll find you and you must find me, too. You will, won't you?"
"You just bet I will," promised Dale, easily. "Here's your street." He stopped to study the house numbers. Suddenly a door flew open wide and a bareheaded man plunged into the street, almost tumbling upon them.
"Robin! Good gracious! I thought you were--stolen--lost--"
Robin, very calm, clasped him about his knee.
"I was lost, Jimmie. But this very big boy brought me home. He's a Prince--I mean he's my make-believe Prince."
"But, Robin--" The man turned from the child to Dale.
"I found her way down by Sheridan Square. She was hunting for her doll she'd left there."
"While I was walking with Mr. Tony this afternoon I played in the park and I forgot Cynthia."
"Good Heavens--and you went way off there all by yourself to find the thing?"
In her pride of Dale, Robin overlooked the slur on Cynthia.
"I went alone," she repeated, "but I came home with my Prince."
Gradually Robin's father was recovering from his shock. The muscles of his face relaxed; he ran his fingers through his thick hair, red like the child's, with a gesture of throwing off some horrible nightmare. To Dale he looked very boyish--with a little of Robin's own cherubic expression.
"Well, say, you gave me a fright, child. And you must promise not to do it again. Why, I can't ever leave you alone unless you do."
He turned to Dale, who stood, lingering, loath to leave the little Robin under the doubtful protection her Jimmie offered. "I'm no end grateful to you, my boy. If there's anything I can do for you--" He slipped one hand mechanically into his pocket.
"I don't want anything." Dale spoke curtly and stepped back. "It wasn't any bother; it's a nice night to walk."
With a child's quick intuition Robin realized that her gallant Prince was about to slip out of her sight. Her Jimmie had pulled his hand from his pocket and was extending it to the boy. He was not even inviting him to come in and smoke like he always invited Mr. Tony and Gerald and all the others. But of course Princes wouldn't smoke, anyway.
She waited until her father had finished his thanks, then, stepping up to Dale, she reached out two small arms and by holding on to Dale's, drew herself up almost to the boy's chin. Upon it she pressed a shy, warm kiss.
"Good-bye, Prince. You will hunt for me, won't you? Promise! Cross your heart!"
Dale, flaming red, confused, promised that he would, then wheeled and stalked off down the street. After he had rounded the corner he lifted his arm and wiped his chin with the sleeve of his coat. Then he stuck his hands deep in his pockets and whistled loudly. But after a moment, at a recollection of sky-blue eyes underneath a sky-blue tam-o'shanter, he chuckled softly. "A Prince! Gee, some Prince!" But his head instinctively went higher at the honor thrust upon him.
When he returned from the store, Dale usually found his mother sitting by the lamp crocheting. But tonight everything was different; scarcely had he stopped at their landing before the little mother, quite transformed, rushed to greet him and tell him the wonderful bit of good fortune.
Before it his own adventure was forgotten.
"And it's only a beginning it is--it's the superintendent he'll be in no time at all, at all," finished Mrs. Lynch.
"And we can move? And I can join the Boy Scouts? And go to camp next summer? And have a pair of roller skates?"
Mrs. Lynch nodded her head to each question. Behind each note of her voice rippled a laugh. "Yes, yes, yes. Sure, it's a wonderful night this is."
"Where's Pop now?"
"Working with the extra shift," the wife answered, proudly.
"Any dumplings?" eagerly.
"And I was forgetting! Bless the heart of you, of course I saved the biggest. 'Twas like a party tonight for I dressed your sister in the beads. It's worn out she is, God love her, with the excitement and trying to keep her wee eyes open 'til her Pop come home. Hushee or you'll waken the lamb now."
Dale was deep in thought choosing the words with which he would tell the good news to the "fellows" on the morrow, his mother was busying herself with the "biggest" dumpling, when a peremptory knock came at the door. With a quick cry Mrs. Lynch dropped her spoon--why should anything intrude upon their joy this night?
A man stood on the threshold presenting a curious figure for he wore a heavy coat