Chapter Seven

Roger King worked late into the night on his report, so late that no one heard him finally go up to bed. He had his breakfast by himself the next morning and emerged from the front door of the farmhouse to find Alec loading bags into the back of the buggy.

“Off to town, Alec?” Roger asked, blinking in the sunshine.

Roger was in his shirtsleeves and vest, unhampered by collar or necktie. Alec smiled, glad to see him finally looking as though he were at home.

“Sure am. You care to join me?”

Alec’s invitation was genuine. He really would relish a pleasant drive into Avonlea with his newly returned brother at his side. Roger, still preoccupied, only held out an envelope.

“Sorry, another time. Would you mind posting this letter for me?”

The envelope looked important, as did all Roger’s correspondence. With a sigh, Alec took the letter and climbed up into the driver’s seat.

“You finish all your work last night?”

Wearily, Roger shook his head “No, no, just some preliminary recommendations.”

“I see,” said Alec, gathering up the reins. Then he paused, thinking of the boyish figure he had seen forlornly climbing the stairs last night.

“Have you seen Andrew this morning?”

“No.” Roger shook his head. “Must still be doing his chores.”

As Roger turned to go, Alec shifted round on the seat and gathered up the reins. If he couldn’t have his brother’s company this morning, perhaps something could be made of the afternoon.

“Roger, I was.. .uh. . .I was thinking maybe we could take Felix and Andrew over to the auction in Carmody this afternoon,” he suggested.

“I would have thought you had plenty to do around here.”

Looking faintly pained at Roger’s tone, Alec shrugged.

“Oh, nothing that can’t wait till tomorrow. Might do us all a world of good to take a few hours off, clear our heads, see some old friends.

You know, the auctioneer up there is Hugh Macdonald. You remember—”

“My work won’t wait, Alec,” Roger ground out, cutting his brother off.

Alec’s mouth tightened. After all, he thought the family was only just together after months and months apart. It seemed a shame to waste such a fine opportunity.

“It’s just.. .well, such a pleasant day...I mean, I know Andrew would enjoy it.”

For some reason, Roger seemed to grow progressively more annoyed with everything Alec said. He slid a hand into his pocket.

“Still trying to play my big brother, aren’t you?” he tossed out with a sharpness that took Alec completely off guard.

Shocked, Alec drew in a breath, ready to argue. Then, seeing his brother’s stubborn expression, Alec shut his mouth again in the interests of keeping the peace. “Never mind,” was all he said before he clucked to the horse and drove off.

Roger stood in front of the farmhouse, staring after Alec until the buggy disappeared from sight around the bend. Then, sighing, he went back to the parlor and his waiting report.

Trying to ignore this first small cloud a shadow over the family harmony, Alec drove briskly on to Avonlea. Yet no sooner had he rattled over the covered bridge into the village itself than trouble descended upon him again— this time in the form of Amos Spry. Amos spotted the buggy rolling over the bridge and chased after it awkwardly.

“Alec! Alec!” he called out, his face the very picture of distress.

Hearing his name, Alec stopped the horse and twisted around in his seat.

“Morning, Amos. How’s the crop coming?”

Amos ran till he caught up with the buggy.

“You haven’t heard the news, have you?” he asked sorrowfully, looking as though he might start beating his own breast.

“News? What’s that?”

“There was a run on the Abbey Bank in Carmody yesterday. The Abbey made some bad investments out West....lost a lot of money. When folks got wind the bank was in trouble, they rushed to take their money out. So they called in all their loans.”

Alec looked perfectly astonished. The King family kept their money in the Abbey Bank. It had always been considered as safe as a vault.

“A bank run?”

A bank’s wealth, the money it lent and invested, the money that made it secure, was really only the sum total of all the accounts ordinary people kept there. If the ordinary people suddenly got nervous about a bank’s security and rushed to draw their money out, why, then the bank could go stone broke in a matter of days. If even a small bank run caused a bank’s coffers to get too low, then it was natural that the bank would call in its loans so as to have the money on hand in case of further emergency.

Amos didn’t really care about the bank’s troubles; he cared about his own—his own and Alec King’s. Biting his lips nervously, he broke the worst of the news to Alec.

“They called in my loan, and they seized your money!”

“No!” cried Alec in disbelief.

Amos’s head sank down. He appeared utterly wretched and he flung out his hands in defeat.

“Alec, I don’t know what to say. I told you— everything I touch goes sour. I’m sorry.”

Alec simply sat in the buggy seat for a moment, trying to absorb what he had just heard Since he had guaranteed Amos’s loan, the bank would have simply taken the money out of the King account to make good for what Amos owed Bad as things looked, Alec groped quickly for something positive to say He knew he had to brace Amos’s spirits or the King money might be swallowed up for good.

“Well, it’s not all lost, Amos,” he responded, doing his best not to seem rattled.

“You’ve still got your crop. You can repay me when you get it in. I’ll be over in the morning to give you a hand.”

“Yeah.”

The word was barely audible to Alec. He drove off, leaving Amos Only half convinced that anything good could ever happen to him again.

Back at the King farm, Roger was having trouble concentrating on his report. Somehow the technical problems of a mining operation in Brazil seemed impossibly far away from the tall grass, high breeze and golden sun on a small farm in Prince Edward Island.

Roger decided that he had better take a break from his paperwork in order to look around the family farm with an eye to making improvements. After all, he was the educated one in the family, and he’d seen a lot more of the world than Alec had ever dreamed of. What better place to apply all this experience than right there at home?

Wearing an old smock coat, and with a brimmed hat perched on his head, Roger took himself on a grand tour. In the potato field, he grasped a handful of earth, looking at it thoughtfully and letting it trickle away through his fingers. Then he wandered around checking the fences, fiddling with the farm machinery and poking about in the barn.

As he went, he periodically opened up his notebook and wrote in it. The notations he had made so far read:

New fencing

Larger dairy herd

Crop rotation

Irrigation system.

When he’d added the word “Mechanization” to the list, he closed the notebook and walked back to the house. The gleam in his eye indicated that he meant to show his brother a thing or two about the modern world.

Alec, meanwhile, had his own troubles with the business of farming. When he got back from Avonlea, he called the family together in the big farmhouse kitchen for a meeting. The kitchen was already a hive of pie-baking activity Janet, Felicity and Sara had been pressed into service to prepare for Hetty’s reception Pie plates filled with dough covered the table, and Sara was hard at work peeling apples for the filling. Andrew and Felix had just brought in another bushel of apples when Hetty and Olivia bustled in.

“Alec, what is all this about?” Hetty demanded. “I’m extremely busy. A reception of this magnitude doesn’t organize itself, you know.”

Hetty’s eye fell on the waiting pie crusts, which immediately reminded her how much still had to be done to prepare food for the big event. She turned distractedly to her sister.

“Oh, good heavens, Olivia. I hope Janet remembered to get the.. .uh...”

“...pickled preserves,” Hetty and Olivia ended up saying in unison.

Hetty looked around for Janet, who was supposed to be supervising the pie-making operations.

“Where is she, anyway?”

“She’s lying down,” Alec told her, glancing towards the stairs.

This last pregnancy seemed to be taking a lot out of Janet, making her tired in the middle of the day and shortening her patience with household problems. It was just as well, Alec thought, that she wasn’t there to hear what he had to say.

“This will just take a minute,” he began, addressing everyone at once and plunging straight into his topic. “Amos Spry has broken his arm, and I’ve offered to give him a hand with his crops, so, for the next few weeks, I’ll be working at his place.”

Hetty was one of those in Avonlea who had a low opinion of the Sprys. She gave a loud sniff of disapproval.

“Giving help to Amos Spry is a complete and utter waste of time,” she declared.

“Hett that’s unkind,” protested Olivia, who was about as tenderhearted as it was possible to be.

Hetty only sniffed louder. “You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. I mean, really, I—”

“Hetty, please.” Alec raised his hand to cut off her tirade. “Now, I can’t possibly work both farms, so...there’s gonna be a lot more work around here for everyone else.”

Andrew sighed, and Felix looked disgusted, knowing who was going to get a generous helping of the extra work

As Alec finished speaking, Roger strolled into the room, the report he was working on in his hand. He had been listening from the parlor doorway.

“I’m still busy with my report,” Roger interjected, “but I’m sure I can spare some time to help keep an eye on things around here for you.”

“Oh, thanks, Roger,” Alec said, surprised and pleased, thinking that his brother wanted to make up for snapping at him earlier in the day.

Roger had other motives in mind, however. In fact, he was delighted to get his chance to supervise the farm.

“Actually,” Roger proceeded, “I’ve noticed a few aspects of your operation that could be made more efficient.”

The pleasure faded from Alec’s face as he recognized his brother’s lecturing tone. Roger could sound very much like Hetty, especially when he imagined he was imparting superior information. Things on the home front, Alec reflected as he braced himself inwardly, could very easily become as troublesome as the problems with Amos Spry.