The Luck of the Buttons (14 page)

After Tugs’s tale at dinner last night, she’d been admonished not to leave the house until her father took care of matters. Her mother had spent the rest of the evening lamenting — Tugs had too much freedom — and berating herself for not keeping a closer watch.

Tugs’s story about Mr. Moore had come out in a jumble.

“Why would the librarian have stock in Standard Oil?” Granny had asked.

“Dapper
who
?” Mother Button kept asking.

And by the time Tugs sorted out the Thompson twins next to the library and G.O. and the Rowdies in Carl’s Alley, everyone was thoroughly baffled.

“But he dresses too smartly to be a criminal,” mused Mother Button.

“Says in Tugs’s article that this Dapper Jack is a smart dresser,” conceded Father Button. “And Mr. Dostal did say there is a lot of cash in a suitcase under Mr. Moore’s bed. He’s puzzled why Mr. Moore hasn’t gone for his printing press with all that cash.” Father Button didn’t put much sway in town bigwigs, and he wouldn’t want to consult a police officer, but given Tugs’s insistence on the matter, he said he’d at least run it by mayor Corbett, since he had repaired a windmill at the mayor’s home after a storm summer before last and the mayor had said, if there was ever anything Robert Button needed . . .

“Ouch!” said Tugs. “I poked myself again.” She sucked on the offended finger and tossed the needlework on the floor.

“If you’ve been injured, I think even your mother will agree that this is too dangerous a sport,” said Granny. “What do girls like you like to do, anyhow?”

“I like to take pictures,” Tugs said. “I’ll get my Brownie.”

Tugs let Granny hold her camera and described how all the parts work.

“If that don’t beat all!” Granny exclaimed when Tugs showed her how to look through the viewfinder. “It’s like real life, only tiny.

“Help me to my feet,” Granny said. She stood and looked around the room through the camera, pausing when she came to Tugs.

“How do I take a photograph?” she said. Tugs put Granny’s finger on the shutter lever.

“Now, stand back there,” said Granny. “I’m going to capture your image.”

Tugs stood stiffly and smiled for a long moment until she heard the click.

“Now me,” Granny said. “But make me look good. Like Mary Pickford before she cut her hair.”

Granny stood up tall, one hand resting on the back of a kitchen chair. She fixed her collar and smoothed her skirt.

“How’s my hair?”

“Good,” said Tugs. She looked down through the viewfinder and stepped closer, framing just Granny’s face and shoulders.
Click.

Mother Button bustled through the door and set a raspberry pie on the table.

“There,” she said. “That’s done. Now, how did this needlework get on the floor? Here, let me help you get back on track.”

“No, Corrine,” said Granny. “It was hurting my eyes, so Tugs said she would read to me. I’m just going to lie right down on this davenport and close my eyes.” She winked at Tugs as she hobbled to the sofa. “Nothing too sweet,” she said. “What do you have out from the library?”

“The Bobbsey Twins in a Great City,”
said Tugs. “I’ll go get it.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you two getting along so well,” said Mother Button. “I was going to bring Ned back here to entertain you, but after I told Aunt Mina about Mr. Moore and the Rowdies, she thought it best to go find G.O. and bring him and Ned out to Uncle Elmer’s farm for a couple of days. Some hard work will keep that Lindholm boy out of trouble. His mother was in Mina’s and my class. Such a story. Such a story.”

Tugs was relieved that G.O. was away from the Rowdies, but what would happen now? She peered through her curtains at the Dostals’ house. Was Mr. Moore there right this minute? It made her cold inside just to think it. As she looked for her book, Tugs imagined her father’s meeting with mayor Corbett. Maybe the mayor would give her a ribbon for revealing Mr. Moore for a crook. Maybe there would be cake.

“Old lady ready for a story out here!” Granny hollered. Tugs grabbed her book and pulled up a chair next to Granny.

“I’m on chapter five,” she said, opening to her marked page. “‘Glorious News.’”

The next morning, Tugs was consumed with scrubbing and hair washing. Mother Button worked on Tugs’s hair with a wide comb and tried smoothing it with a bit of lard. Granny was enlisted to iron Tugs’s dress, and Mother Button darned a pair of her socks.

Tugs stood in front of Mother Button’s mirror.

“I don’t look like me,” she said.

“We’ll have to put an apron on you while you eat lunch, or you’ll look like you again in a wink.”

“I’m not hungry anyhow,” said Tugs. She picked her way through the meal, nodding without listening to Granny’s noontime chatter. She couldn’t even face pie. She jumped up when Father Button came home at last.

“No time like the present,” he said. “mayor said to drop by his office at one o’clock. Ready, Tugs?”

Tugs dropped her dishes in the sink and tossed her apron over a chair.

“Give ’em the what for,” said Granny.

“Just tell the truth,” said her mother.

Tugs grabbed her father’s hand. She glanced over at the Dostals’ house, but there was no sign of Harvey Moore, or Mr. or Mrs. Dostal, either.

“No one’s home next door,” she said, feeling lighter.

Father Button nodded. “Nope,” he said.

“Do you think the mayor will give me a ribbon?” said Tugs. She skipped ahead of her father, then back. She didn’t have patience for his slow and steady pace. Yesterday had been eternal, and Tugs was excited that the whole ordeal would be over with soon. She would write Aggie as soon as she got home and tell her not to worry.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” said her father. “I done my best, but all the mayor said was he’d look into it. mayor Corbett likes the idea of that newspaper, and he’s going to be reluctant to let it go.”

“Did you show him the clipping? Did you tell him about the car? How Mr. Moore didn’t know about it being out of gas until I told him? And about Carl’s Alley and the Rowdies? And the Thompson twins and Standard Oil?”

“I told him what I could remember, Tugs. Now, just walk like a lady and we’ll see what we see.”

City Hall stood next to the post office. Tugs had never been inside. It wasn’t a big building, but it had a heavy presence to it. They were a bit early, and the mayor’s secretary was not at her desk. They could hear voices from inside the office.

“Should we knock?” whispered Tugs. They stood a moment, considering, then Tugs’s father walked up to the door and gave a tentative knock. There was no answer, so he knocked again a bit louder.

mayor Corbett himself swung the door open.

“Hello, mayor!” Tugs beamed, eager to receive his praise. But the mayor’s face was stern.

“Robert, Tugs,” he said. He opened the door and gestured for them to follow him. Tugs stepped in eagerly, then stopped short. There, standing next to the mayor’s desk, was Harvey Moore. For once, he was not smiling. He took off his hat and fiddled with the brim.

“Have a seat,” mayor Corbett said, gesturing to the two chairs facing his desk. Tugs edged into one and inched it closer to her father’s. The mayor stood behind his desk, next to Harvey Moore.

“Robert, you did right telling me about Tugs’s accusations, and I’m glad you brought her down here today. It’s a good thing you talked to me, not the rest of town. Rumors get started. Damage can be done.”

“I don’t understand,” Father Button said, rising from his chair. “This man is not . . .”

mayor Corbett motioned for him to sit, and looked at Tugs.

“Tugs, your father told me your story about Mr. Moore. You made some serious charges, young lady. Now, my job as mayor is to protect and serve all members of this community, and that includes residents, such as yourself, and guests, such as Mr. Moore here. I called Mr. Moore in and told him what you said. Showed him this clipping, which is thin evidence, indeed, to say nothing of the vandalism you perpetrated to get it.” He slapped it down on his desk.

“I reviewed the facts. And while it embarrassed him to have to do it, Mr. Moore provided me with a list of personal references to account for his character.”

“But —” Tugs interrupted. The mayor held up his hand to silence her.

“But nothing, Tugs. I chatted with Mr. Moore, and I assured him I don’t need to call his references. A man who can look another man in the eye and shake his hand firmly, that’s a man that’s telling the truth.

“Now, I don’t know where your wild imagination came up with these preposterous claims, but I am very disappointed. Very disappointed, indeed, that a citizen like you, a patriotic essay winner, would try to stand in the way of progress.

“Do you know what
slander
means? Slander is a false report, one that can damage a person’s reputation. In this case, it could even derail the publication of a town newspaper. Imagine if people heard your claims, pulled back their money.

“There needs to be consequences for such behavior, Tugs. And I have asked Mr. Moore here to help me arrive at a suitable recompense.”

Tugs looked questioningly over at her father. He reached out and took her hand. She slumped in her chair.

“Thank you, mayor,” Mr. Moore said, setting his hat on the mayor’s desk. “Now, I don’t want to be too harsh on the child, Mr. Button, but I’m sure you’ll agree, my reputation
has
been damaged. There is the question of how many people she’s entertained with this wild tale, for instance.”

“Tugs?” her father asked. “Besides your mother and me, and Granny?”

Tugs ran through the list in her head. How could she face Aggie again? And what if the Thompson twins told Miss Lucy?

“Tugs!” mayor Corbett was saying. “Are you listening?”

“I . . .” Tugs started, but a sharp rap at the door interrupted her.

“What now?” said mayor Corbett. “Where
is
Miss Wert? She takes the longest lunches.” There was another rap, then the door swung open.

Mr. Millhouse strode into the room, with Aggie just behind him.

“Tugs!” Aggie cried, and ran to Tugs.

“Aggie! I got your letter!”

“I know. I got yours, too.”

“mayor,” said Harvey Moore briskly, “I see you have company. We can finish our business later.” He slipped past mayor Corbett.

“Mr. Millhouse,” he said with a nod.

“Not so fast, Mr. Door,” said Mr. Millhouse.

“Door?” repeated mayor Corbett. “It’s Moore. Harvey Moore. We’re almost through here, then. . . .”

“I’m afraid you’ve been deceived, mayor. This man is not Harvey Moore. If you’ll all have a seat, including you, Mr. Door, I’ll explain.”

But Harvey Moore was already out the door.

“Don’t worry, mayor,” said Mr. Millhouse. “Officer Miller and his men are waiting for him outside.”

“I’m afraid I — I — I . . .” mayor Corbett stuttered.

“He’s a fraud, mayor. A swindler. We got an emergency call from Aggie’s summer camp yesterday. They said Aggie was sick and we should drive out and get her.”

“Are you sick?” gasped Tugs, grabbing Aggie’s arm.

“She’s not sick,” continued Mr. Millhouse. “Aggie, why don’t you tell the story?”

“I got a letter from Tugs yesterday. She told me about seeing Mr. Moore in the Chicago paper, only he was the crook Mr. Door. She said how he is out to ruin my father and everyone else in Goodhue, too. I tried telling my camp counselors, but they thought I was spinning a yarn. I knew I had to tell my father right away, so I played sick so they’d call him.”

“I admit I was skeptical at first,” said Mr. Millhouse. “But I did put a call in to the Chicago police this morning, and what Tugs says is true. Harvey Moore is just one of many aliases used by Mr. Door as he travels to small towns like our own, swindles its citizens, and moves on. He’s a slippery fellow, and there are a lot of people looking for him. I was deceived — we were all deceived — by a slick smile, a quick wit, and a story we wanted to believe.”

Tugs looked from Mr. Millhouse to her father to the mayor.

“I’m flabbergasted,” said mayor Corbett, sinking into his chair. “Simply flabbergasted.” Absently, he picked up the Panama Mr. Moore had left on his desk. “Well, look at that,” he said wearily. He turned the  underside of the hat toward them. An envelope was stitched into the crown. mayor Corbett pulled out a stack of bills, shaking his head in wonder.

Mr. Millhouse held out his hand to shake Father Button’s.

“Mr. Button, I presume? You have a fine, fine daughter here. Tugs, you are welcome in our home anytime.”

Tugs beamed. She had been right. And here was Aggie, better than in her picture.

Picture.

“Eldora and Elmira!” Tugs gasped. “Leopold!” She grabbed her father’s hand. “We have to go!”

“Who?” said her father and Aggie at the same time.

“The ladies next to the library?” asked Mr. Millhouse.

“But who is Leopold?” said mayor Corbett.

“The Rowdies! Oh, no. They don’t know . . . They are going to . . .” continued Tugs.

“Slow it down, Tugs,” said mayor Corbett. “What
is
the matter?”

Tugs explained as quickly as she could about Mr. Moore, the Rowdies, and the twins.