CHAPTER 10 Widow Jones
In confusion, Babe backed away from the kitchen window.
The other Cubs also were embarrassed, for they had not intended toinvestigate an occupied dwelling.
"Gee whiz!" Babe muttered. "Here she comes! I'll bet she's sore!"
The kitchen door creaked open and the mysterious "she" stood on thethreshold regarding the boys with curiosity rather than anger.
Tall and wiry, the woman appeared to be about fifty years of age. Heriron-gray hair was combed severely back from her ears. The gingham dressshe wore was old fashioned and faded from repeated washing.
"I--I'm sorry," Babe stammered, doffing his cap. "I--I didn't know anyonelived here. The house looked so old and--"
"We were just passing and stopped to look at the deep well," Bradinterposed hastily. "One doesn't see one like it very often."
"Or a house as run down as this," said the woman.
Plainly she had not taken offense at Babe's remark, for she smiled andsaid: "You boys must be on a hike."
Mr. Hatfield told her about the organization and introduced the boys byname. In turn, the woman said she was Mrs. Jones, a widow, and that shelived alone.
"If you're Mrs. Jones, you must be the one Mr. Wentworth mentioned!" Danexclaimed, recalling the name. "Do you board wards of the court?"
"I was supposed to take one--a harum-scarum lad who has a tendency to runaway," Mrs. Jones replied. "The Court promised me eight dollars a week tolook after him. I need the money. But he never showed up."
"That's because he ran away again," Dan informed the widow. "Police stillare looking for him."
"Like as not he wouldn't want to stay here anyway," Mrs. Jones said, hergaze sweeping the untidy yard. "There's so much to be done, and no one todo it except me."
"I should think a sturdy boy would be a help to you here," remarked Mr.Hatfield. "And an outdoor life might be just what Jack needs. With awoods and marsh nearby, he could interest himself in wild life which heseems to enjoy."
"That's what Mr. Wentworth thought," nodded the widow. "He said severalcity boarding places have been tried, and each time Jack runs away."
"The boy needs strict discipline but from someone who has an interest inhis welfare."
"I've always liked boys--even so-called bad ones," Mrs. Jones declared."Jack would have good food here and a comfortable bed. The house isn'tmuch, but after all, it's what's in it that counts."
The widow, who wore no wrap, was shivering from cold. Aware that theywere keeping her, the Cubs started away.
But as they started off, Mr. Hatfield thought to speak of the tramp whohad been seen at the group of new houses.
"Since you live here alone, it might be well to lock your doors atnight," the Cub leader advised. "While the fellow probably is harmless,one never knows."
Mrs. Jones thanked him for the warning. "I'll do as you advise," shesaid, "but I've never been afraid. It's not in my blood to be afeared ofanyone or anything."
The Cubs apologized again for having trespassed upon her property.
"Now you boys just come here whenever you like," she invited cordially."Next time maybe I'll have some cookies handy in my jar. Growing boysalways are hungry. I know, because I had three of 'em. They're grown mennow."
A lonely soul, Mrs. Jones would have chatted on and on. The Cubs,however, already were late. So they edged away, waved a final goodbye,and trudged back to the main road.
"That should cure us of peeking into windows," Brad lectured Babe. "Shewas mighty nice about it, but she could have jumped all over us."
"How was I to know anyone lived there?" Babe defended himself. "Youthought yourself the house was empty."
"That's so," Brad admitted honestly. "Mrs. Jones must be as poor as achurch mouse. She needs that board money badly."
"And Jack needs someone like Mrs. Jones to take an interest in him,"added Mr. Hatfield. "She is firm but kind."
"Imagine living in a place like that!" Chips commented with distaste."It's a dump."
"The inside is clean and not badly furnished," informed the Cub leader."I noticed when she had the door open. As for the outside, the windowscould be washed and the rubbish cleaned up in a few hours."
"Say, maybe that's a job for the Cubs!" proposed Brad. "We're supposed togive neighborhood good will. What better way?"
"That yard has a lot of rubbish," Chips said quickly. "It would take morethan a few hours--maybe half a day."
"And we're pretty busy soliciting for the church campaign," added Red."Not to mention our plans for the Round Table jamboree."
"It was just a suggestion," Brad shrugged. "Only I thought the widowseems to need help."
"I'd like to do it," offered Dan. "I could spare a Saturday afternoon."
"So could I," volunteered Fred. "How about you, Midge?"
"Count me in. While we're clearing away the trash, we might find somethings we could use for knight's armor. I noticed a lot of old tin andmetal lying around. Also some wheels and things."
"Let's make it Saturday then," proposed Brad. "If Red and Chips can'tcome, why that's all right."
"Oh, I can make it, I guess," Red back-tracked.
Chips, not to be left out on any Den affair, said he would be on handtoo.
The Cubs had spent more time than they had intended exploring thecountryside. With a glance at his watch, Mr. Hatfield warned that theywould have to walk briskly if they were to reach home in time for supper.
"Maybe we can hook a ride!" Midge suggested. "Here comes a truck. Let'ssignal the driver."
Despite his frantic hand waving, the truck rolled on past. However, aquarter of a mile farther on, the hikers observed a familiar appearingstation wagon coming toward them.
"Say, that looks like my Dad's car!" exclaimed Midge.
He was right. A moment later, with a screech of brakes, the station wagonhalted at the side of the road.
"Hey, you're going in the wrong direction!" Midge called to his father.
"I'll turn around," Mr. Holloway offered. "I heard you boys were out thisway on a hike. The weather's turning colder, so I thought you might likea lift back into town. Of course if you prefer to walk--"
A hoot of derision greeted this remark. The Cubs waited until Mr.Holloway had turned the station wagon around on the narrow road, and thenpiled in.
Midge, Dan and Mr. Hatfield sat in the front with the Den Dad. The otherscrowded into the rear, stowing their collection of roofing discs at theirfeet.
"It's sure swell to catch a ride," Dan said gratefully. "My dogs werebeginning to ache me."
In the rear of the station wagon, the other Cubs broke into song, makingfurther conversation all but impossible.
The car presently approached the outskirts of Webster City. At thelefthand side of the road, Mr. Holloway noticed a boy trudging wearilyalong the edge of the pavement.
"Maybe I should give him a lift," he remarked, slowing the station wagon."He appears tired."
Dan thought that the boy looked faintly familiar. He could not place himthough.
However, as Mr. Holloway brought the station wagon to a standstill only afew yards away from the pedestrian, he caught a full view of his face.
"It's that boy Jack!" he exclaimed.
"Not the one who escaped from Guy Wentworth?" Mr. Hatfield demandedincredulously.
"I'm sure of it."
"It does look like him," the Cub leader acknowledged. Quickly he added:"Boys, don't let on that you suspect a thing or ever have seen the ladbefore. If we play our cards right, we may be able to take him back wherehe belongs."
Dan Carter and the Money Box Page 10
