Chapter Two

Outside the store, Amos wanted nothing more than to escape, but it wasn’t easy with only one good arm. Stephen and May each carried a small parcel, and Amos struggled with his big wicker basket, trying to figure out how to get the rest of his purchases up onto his wagon.

Back in the store, Alec paused and took two peppermint sticks from the jar young Stephen had been eyeing.

“Maybe I’ll take a couple of these, Elvira,” he said to the storekeeper, handing her a coin.

Mrs. Lawson knew perfectly well who the candy was for. She slipped the coin into the cash drawer, hoping that the money wasn’t the only profit she was going to see that day in her transactions with the Sprys.

Alec picked up Amos’s bag of flour from the counter and stepped outside where he found the Spry children sitting hunched on the store steps, May still sobbing loudly and Stephen looking almost as woebegone. Alec stooped down and produced the candy sticks.

“Here. You think you can use one of these?”

Two sets of eyes popped wide at the bounty.

“Thanks,” Stephen remembered to say just before he stuck the candy into his mouth.

The peppermint had an equally magical effect upon May, whose tears dried instantly.

“Thank you,” she murmured, a small smile appearing among the tear smudges on her face.

Amos, with difficult was shoving the basket over the tailgate of his wagon when Alec joined him. Alec plunked the bag of flour in beside the basket and leaned on the side of the vehicle.

“Thanks, Alec,” Amos offered.

“One of those days, is it, Amos?” Alec asked sympathetically.

Amos sighed heavily. “Every day’s been one of those days lately, Alec,” he muttered, wincing as his sling bumped one of the wheels.

“Come on,” Alec cajoled, “it can’t be as bad as that.”

Since Amos didn’t look up and his face grew tighter, Alec realized something serious must be going on.

“What’s the problem?” he inquired gently, for troubles were generally shared among neighbors.

“Money and luck, neither of which seems to come my way these days. I’m in a bad spot of trouble, Alec.” Amos grimaced, and, after a pause, he added in a rush, “I stand to lose the farm.”

Alec’s hand, halfway to pushing back his hat, stopped in midair.

“Go on—you’re not serious!”

Apparently, he was, for Amos heaved a sigh, pointing to his sling.

“My horse ran off, I fell and broke my arm, missed a couple of payments in the past three months. Bank says I’m a bad risk. They’ve decided not to extend my loan.”

“But that’s nonsense,” Alec protested. “Everyone knows there’s gonna be a bumper potato crop this year.”

Potatoes were what nearly everyone grew on Prince Edward Island. The province was famous for them. Why, right at that very moment, Alec thought, markets everywhere were waiting for the new crop to come in!

Pessimistically, Amos shook his head. Fate seemed to have a special grudge against him.

“Well, maybe for everyone else. For me, it’ll only be fair, at best.”

“There’s no reason why you shouldn’t have an excellent crop, Amos,” Alec asserted firmly in the face of Amos’s gloom.

Though he knew Alec was right, Amos only looked more despondent. With his arm in a sling, he couldn’t do much about even the best crop in the world. Things were very bad indeed.

“All I need’s a few more weeks. If I could just get my crop in and be able to start paying off my mortgage again...”

A neighbor in trouble was a man to be helped, at least in Alec’s book. If farmers didn’t look out for each other, no one else was going to.

“I can help you get your crop in,” Alec offered.

“I appreciate that, Alec,” Amos said, with feeling, “but it still won’t solve my problem.”

Only money was going to solve the problem, and Alec saw that clearly. He sucked in a breath, not deterred by the size of the risk he was about to take.

“Well, how about if...I go along to the bank and co-sign for the loan?”

This was an offer well beyond the call of neighborliness. Amos looked up in wonder.

“I don’t understand,” he said shakily.

Leaning on the wagon wheel, Alec calculated rapidly. The children, still blissfully sucking their candy sticks, strolled over, ready to go home.

“If I co-signed the mortgage, then...well...in the unlikely event that your crop doesn’t come through, the bank will still get their money.” Of course, the money the bank would get would be Alec King’s and not Amos Spry’s.

Easily, Alec lifted Stephen up onto the wagon seat. Amos swallowed hard and looked at his benefactor.

“You’d do that for me, Alec?”

Amos knew a lot of folks in Avonlea looked down on the Sprys, what with all their children and their continual struggle to make ends meet. Yet here was Alec King, just about the most respected farmer around, offering to put up his own money to guarantee Amos’s loan.

Alec deposited May on the seat beside her brother and nodded. “Of course. That’s what neighbors are for, Amos.”

With that, Alec walked back to the store leaving Amos speechless from sheer relief and gratitude. The horrible vision of Mrs. Spry and all the little Sprys homeless by the side of the road left Amos’s imagination. Looking as though a thousand-pound weight had just been lifted from his shoulders, the man climbed up beside his children and pointed the horse for home.