The Challengers (24 page)

Melissa wrote it and handed the book back. He read it and looked up at her interestedly.

"Challenger!" he said. "That's a striking name. I don't believe I've ever heard it before, but it has a distinguished sound that I like. Then you're Melissa Challenger. I like that, too. You know, I have been introduced to you before. But come, we'd better get out of here and not let this mob get ahead of us. We'll need some time to get a bite to eat, too." He steered her to a small wooden room with a bench running all around and left her with the baggage while he went to send the telegram. Then he returned and piloted her outside and around to another door where a long counter was flanked by a row of high stools, which were fast filling up.

Jenifer found a seat for Melissa, and then he stood just behind her waiting for the laborer who occupied the next stool to finish his coffee.

The menu was simple and substantial: sausage, hotcakes with syrup, and coffee. Melissa fell upon hers with relish.

"I hadn't much for lunch yesterday," she laughed. "I was afraid I would miss my escorts."

"And no dinner at all, I can guess."

"No dinner!" said Melissa. "I ran away just as dinner was about to be served."

They found that they had to eat rather hurriedly after all, for by the time they were served the train was almost due, so there was little opportunity for talk.

When they were seated at last in the express, Melissa looked up suddenly and asked: "Are you a minister, Mr. Jenifer?"

She was still puzzling over his Bible study and the look on his face while he was reading.

He looked up with a smile.

"No," he answered, "I'm a construction engineer. That is, that's the way I earn my living."

Melissa looked puzzled.

"I don't understand," she said. "You were studying the Bible, and I thought scholars, real scholars, college people, didn't believe in the Bible anymore--unless of course they were ministers."

"And why ministers?"

"Well, of course, that's their
business
."

"You mean either that ministers aren't scholars, or else they are not honest ministers?"

Something in his tone brought the color to Melissa's cheeks.

"Well--er--when I went to college, my professors thought, that is, they said that the Bible was a beautiful piece of literature of course, but they didn't accept it as the book of God."

"No?" said Jenifer. "Well, were they Christians, Miss Challenger?"

"Christians?" said Melissa. "What difference would that make, if they were scholars?"

"All the difference in the world," said Jenifer earnestly. "The Bible itself says: 'But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.' To a man who is spiritually dead, the Bible would mean nothing. He couldn't understand it. It would be full of contradictions."

"But isn't it full of contradictions?" asked Melissa.

"No," said Jenifer. "To one who is born again and has received 'the spirit which is of God' that he might 'know the things that are freely given to us of God,' there isn't a contradiction from beginning to end. It is like a great picture puzzle that fits together perfectly to form the picture of the God-Man, Christ Jesus. But it is a great subject. One cannot explain all that in a few minutes."

"Yes," sighed Melissa, "I can see it must be. You used several phrases I never heard before and don't understand. I guess I must be one of those 'spiritually dead' ones." And she gave a little embarrassed laugh, for indeed it was to her as if he were talking in an unknown tongue.

He turned eager eyes upon her.

"What were they? I'll be glad to explain."
"Well, that about receiving the Spirit of God. Is that a sort of spiritualism?"

"No," he said gently. "The Holy Spirit is a Person of the Godhead, who takes the things of Christ and shows them unto us, makes them plain to us. He dwells in every child of God."

"Child of God?" said Melissa wonderingly. "That's another strange phrase. That must have something to do with the being 'born again' that you spoke of!" She ended with a little laugh as if it were some strange kind of joke.

"It certainly has," answered Jenifer heartily. "You see, everybody born into the
world
is dead in sins. One must be born again to be fit for
heaven
."

"How on earth could that be?" asked Melissa, now thoroughly astonished and bewildered.

For answer, Jenifer reached for his worn Bible once more. His fingers seemed to caress the pages as he turned them quickly and pointed to a few lines.

" 'But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name,' " read Melissa.

"Now, you tell me," said Jenifer, smiling, "how does one become a child of God?"

Melissa's eyes went back to the verse.

"It says, by receiving Him, believing 'on His name'--whose name?" she asked sharply.

"The name of Jesus," Jenifer answered tenderly, "and
Jesus
means 'Savior.' "

"Then I'm to believe that Jesus is my Savior? Is that it?"

"That's all," said Jenifer with a ring to his voice as he noted the quick way in which the girl applied the truth to herself. "And this is what makes Him your Savior and mine." He turned the pages again.

" 'But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.' "

"Oh!" cried Melissa. "That's what I did. I went astray and I went my own way! And yet," she went on, tears of wonder standing in her eyes, "God didn't punish me for it! He took care of me by sending you! And, do you mean He punished
Him
for what I did?"

"That's exactly it," said Jenifer, watching her eagerly.

There was silence for some time then as Melissa read over the words again and pondered the wonderful truth she had discovered, while a strange new joy mounted in her heart, and a song of thanksgiving arose beside her from the heart of the young man who had led her to his Lord.

Then she began to ask questions, and the time sped away as they talked, till suddenly they were at their journey's end before they knew it.

"I'd love to tell you more," said Jenifer eagerly as he gathered up their baggage, "for while I earn my living at engineering, my real business in life is to witness to others about my Lord Jesus. Might I come to see you sometime soon and maybe talk more?"

"Oh, I wish you would," said Melissa earnestly. "I've never heard anything like this before. I don't believe my mother knows, either. If it is true, it would be wonderful! To just live and trust everything, day by day, and know it would be all right. It is too good to be true. It is not--earthly. It does not seem natural."

"No, it is heavenly." He smiled. "But here, we must get off."

"Now," said Jenifer as they reached the station, "we are going to get into a taxi and drive straight to your home. Your mother is not going to have to wait an extra second to know that you are safe. Since God sent me to look after you, I consider it my right to be sure that you are safely landed in your mother's arms."

He smiled down at her, and Melissa's face grew rosy with the pleasure of it. It was wonderful to be taken care of that way after her wild experience.

"Oh, thank you," she said. "You have been wonderful to me!"

"Not in the least. I'm quite selfish in this. I want to see you safe, and I want to see where you live so that I can come again if you will let me, and come soon."

"That will be lovely," said Melissa. "I somehow feel as if I had known you ages. And I do want you to meet my mother and the family."

So he put her into a taxi, and Melissa, well escorted, started on the last brief stage of her journey back to the little Brady house.

When Phyllis threw open the door and found the messenger boy standing there with a telegram in his hand, she fairly fell upon him and snatched the envelope from him. Bob and Rosalie had come home early on account of a short session, and Bob signed for the message, for Phyllis had torn open the envelope and was reading.

"Oh, Mother, she's all right," she called as she rushed upstairs. "She says she was unavoidably detained where there was no telephone, but she is all right and she'll be home today. Hear that? There! Read it for yourself."

Mary Challenger, with a great light breaking in her face, took the paper, holding it with shaking hands, and read. Then she looked up to where her children stood in breathless eagerness about her and said as if she were just thinking aloud: "Then He does answer prayer. God does answer prayer! Even my poor prayer!"

Phyllis looked at her in amazement for an instant and then threw her arms about her and crushed her in a big hug.

"Of course He does," said Rosalie radiantly. "He began with the beefsteak and onions, and He's going to do all the rest, I'm sure."

"Aw, gee! Didn't ya all know that? What's all the excitement about?" put in Bob.

"And now," said Phyllis, "Mother, you've got to lie down and rest. Yes, you have. There are no two ways about it. Rosalie and I are going to get a dinner ready that can be served as soon as Melissa gets here, whenever that is. We have chops. Mr. Brady just sent them over, lovely ones, and chopped potatoes creamed; they'll keep and warm up indefinitely, and we'll open a can of string beans. Melissa likes those. Then there are tomatoes and two stalks of celery. Rosalie will make tomato surprise for salad, and how would a cottage pudding do for dessert? That won't spoil with standing. Or no, chocolate blancmange. There is quite a little cream. I saved yesterday's and today's from both bottles. How's that for a fatted calf, Mother dear?"

"It sounds good," said the mother with a trembling smile.

"And, Mother, do you think we ought to ask those Hollisters to stay for dinner, or couldn't we afford it? Rosalie and I would let them have our chops."

"Why, yes, of course. We must ask them, even if we can't afford it, when they have been so kind to Melissa. We certainly can't repay them any other way. We must be courteous. And of course they'll be hungry after such a long ride."

"We can't make the table look very grand," said Phyllis with a thoughtful look toward Rosalie's three dandelions.

"That doesn't matter. We'll just give them what we have. I somehow feel that things are going to be brighter now, dear; perhaps the bank will open tomorrow----or
something
." Her voice trembled off into silence.

"Go lie down, Mother," commanded Phyllis again. "You know, you
may
have to take the evening train."

But Phyllis, as she went about her dinner preparations, was silently wondering how her mother could take a train even if she had to, for all her mathematical calculations had served only to show that there was not quite half enough money in the family to cover what would likely be necessary expenses of such a trip. She sighed heavily as she went out into the kitchen and began to peel potatoes.

"Why do you sigh, Phyllie? Aren't you glad now, sister, since Lissa is all right?"

"Glad? Sure! But I'm wondering what's coming next."

"You mustn't, Phyllie."

"Well, I don't know where the money's coming from to send Mother to see Steve, and I'm just sure she's got to go and soon."

"But if God can answer one prayer, can't He answer another?"

"I suppose so," said Phyllis, trying to smile. "Bob, what time is it in there by the cuckoo? I wonder if I've got plenty of time to make blancmange and get it good and cold before they come."

"Aw, gee! This old clock has stopped again!" answered Bob. "I wonder what's got inta her. Guess I musta forgot ta wind her last night. She ain't acted right since that Barkus woman monkeyed with her."

"Why, Bob, she didn't touch the clock."

"Yes, she did. Put her paw on the tailpiece and pulled real hard. I saw her do it. I bet she did somepin to her. I'm gonta get up on a chair and see. Do you havta know the time right this minute? 'Cause I'd rather get her going first, and then I can set her right when I get back from asking Brady."

"That's all right, Bob; only don't break that clock. You know how Father feels about it."

"Aw, whaddaya think I am?" said Bob as he mounted a chair and began to examine the inner workings of the fine old clock.

Five minutes later, the girls in the kitchen were startled by hearing the cuckoo cooing out vigorously, one! two! three! And then an exclamation from Bob and a clattering sound of something metal falling and rattling on the floor.

"Aw, gee! Now whaddaya think of that!" came Bob's voice, and both girls rushed to the door in consternation.
"Did you break it, Bob? I told you not to bother with it!"

"Naw, I didn't break it, Grandma!" responded Bob wrathfully. "I just put my hand up there ta see what was getting in the way of that clapper and stopping it right in the middle of a coo, and out that thing tumbled. Whaddaya think of that now? Somebody went and put a tin box inside that clock. Isn't that the limit?"

"It's a part of the works of the clock, of course," said Phyllis with a worried tone. "You ought not to touch a clock. Nobody but a clockmaker knows how to fix a clock."

"Aw, cut it! You're only a girl if you are older'n I am. I didn't touch the old clock!" said Bob as worried as herself, getting down with a thump from the chair and bending over the thing on the floor. "It isn't a piece of the works, I tell ya; it's a
box
. See! There's an advertisement on the cover. A little thin box. Quinine pills it says, plain as day. They don't use quinine pillboxes ta make the works of a clock, do they? I
ask
ya!"

The girls came and stood gazing curiously while Bob picked up the box, but as he lifted it the cover came off with a ring and went spinning across the floor, and out of the box fell what looked like a wad of colored paper, green and yellow and white.