“Oh, I’m sure Mr. Waldemar didn’t mean that,” said Miss Threep kindly.
“But I did,” said the head trustee. “I’m a plain blunt man, and I say what I think.”
“Then you think a lot of foolish things,” said Freddy angrily. “There may be several reasons why my clothes are queer. Just as there may be several reasons why you are so fat. I may think it is because you eat too much. But I wouldn’t say so unless I knew. Just because you have a gold watch-chain I wouldn’t say that you stole it unless I was pretty certain. Just because—”
“That’s enough of this,” said the head trustee, swelling up and turning dark red. “Miss Threep, either this woman leaves the room or I do.”
“Wait a minute,” said Mrs. Winfield Church suddenly, and everybody including Mr. Waldemar looked at her respectfully. She seemed to be smiling to herself, and Freddy thought that under all the diamonds and pearls and ribbons she had on she looked a lot like Mrs. Wiggins. “I have always thought,” said Mrs. Church, “that trustees’ meetings and tea-parties were pretty dull affairs, and that is why I have stayed in Paris so long—so I wouldn’t have to attend them. I find this one, however, is anything but dull. And in order to keep it from getting dull, I suggest that this lady, who seems to be my namesake, be asked to stay.”
There was a general murmur of assent, through which Mr. Waldemar’s voice said: “But she is not a trustee.”
“What of it?” said Mrs. Church. “This isn’t a secret meeting, is it? We’re not going to have any of the boys executed, are we?”
“I shall leave,” said the head trustee pompously. “I do not propose—”
“Oh, go on—leave then,” interrupted Mrs. Church. And she turned away from him and went to the piano and began to play a dance. And pretty soon all the trustees were dancing together. But Mr. Waldemar sat in the corner and tried to look like a plain blunt man who disapproved of such goings on.
Well, Miss Threep sent for fresh tea and more sandwiches, and they played charades and had a fine time generally. Freddy sang several songs of his own composition and Mrs. Church accompanied him. And finally Mr. Waldemar got up and came out of his corner and said he’d like to sing. So he sang Asleep in the Deep in a fine bass voice, and everybody applauded, even the boys out in the playground. And Mr. Waldemar was so gratified that he came over and apologized to Freddy, and Freddy sang a duet with him.
But all this time Freddy hadn’t given a moment’s thought to what he had come there for, and it wasn’t until the party began to break up that it occurred to him that he ought to ask about Byram. He went up to Miss Threep, who was talking with Mrs. Church by the piano, and said: “Excuse me, Miss Threep, but there was something I wanted to ask you—”
“Just a minute,” put in Mrs. Church. “You get your hat on, Miss Threep. I am going to take this lady home, and you come along for the ride, and she can ask you what she wants to know.”
So Miss Threep got her hat and they went out and got into a huge black shiny car that was almost as long as Mr. Bean’s barn. As Freddy was getting in, Georgie ran up. “Oh,” said Freddy, “here is my Georgie. Could you take him too, Mrs. Church?”
Mrs. Church said she could, so Georgie jumped in beside the chauffeur.
“That’s my little man,” said Freddy, leaning forward from where he sat between the two ladies and patting the dog on the head. “Was he a good little doggy today? And did he miss his mamma?”
“He’s a nice little dog,” said Miss Threep.
“He means well,” said Freddy, “and he’s very affectionate, but he’s not very bright.” He was going on to say more, but Georgie gave him such a grim look that he decided not to.
“Well,” said Miss Threep, “what was it you wanted to see me about?”
“I wanted to ask you about a boy who, I was told, is in the orphanage,” said Freddy. “But first—you’ve been so nice to me I think I ought to tell you—my name isn’t Mrs. Winfield Church.”
“How could it be?” said Mrs. Church easily.
“I mean, I’m—I’m not a lady. I’m—well, I’m a pig.”
“Dear me,” said Miss Threep. “I don’t think you ought to feel that way.”
“No,” said Freddy, “I don’t mean that. I mean I really am a pig.”
“Of course he’s a pig,” said Mrs. Church. “I saw that almost from the first. Yes, and I think I know who you are, too. I saw a piece about you in the Paris Herald awhile ago.” And she began to laugh.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Miss Threep. “A pig! Of course I’m rather nearsighted, but those curls—”
“Pinned in the sunbonnet,” said Freddy. “See?” and he took the bonnet off.
“Well, I declare,” said Miss Threep. “You fooled me completely.”
“It’s about the first time I ever did, then,” said Freddy. “But perhaps I’d better tell you the whole story.” And so he did.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you much,” said Miss Threep when he had finished. “We had a boy named Byram in the orphanage for about a month. And he had been traveling along the canal. But he ran away again three weeks ago, and we haven’t been able to find him. He was a nice boy, too. But why did you disguise yourself to come ask me about him? I’d have told you what I know anyway.”
“Well, I thought he might be in the orphanage, and if he was, I was going to try to adopt him. And I knew you wouldn’t let a pig adopt a boy.”
“No,” said Miss Threep thoughtfully. “I suppose the trustees wouldn’t have approved. We’ve never had any applications like that. Well, I’ll let you know if we hear any more about him. Then your Mr. Bean can apply for him. But I’m afraid we won’t see him again. That boy is a traveler, and he is pretty well able to take care of himself, too. But one thing I can tell you. Hunt along the canal east of here. He was going toward Albany, and that’s where you are most likely to find him.”
The big car had turned in at the Beans’ gate by this time, and as it drew up in the barnyard, half a dozen animals came out to look it over.
“What a nice farm!” said Mrs. Church.
“Land’s sakes, Freddy, is that you?” said Mrs. Bean, coming to the door. “Won’t you ask your friends in?”
So the two ladies got out and met Mrs. Bean and Adoniram. “Well, I never!” said Mrs. Bean, when she heard about Freddy’s visit to the orphanage. “What won’t these animals be up to next! They’re nice animals, all of ’em, and as good as gold, but there’s never a dull moment on this farm. But won’t you ladies stay to supper? I know Mr. Bean’d be as pleased as Punch.”
So they stayed to supper, and afterwards Adoniram and Freddy took them out and introduced them to all the other animals, and to Uncle Ben and Bertram. Uncle Ben gave each of them one of his new firecracker alarm clocks, and they were much pleased with them. Miss Threep had to be back at the orphanage by nine o’clock, but Mrs. Church was so delighted with everything that when it was time for them to start she hadn’t yet got back to the car. She was down in the cow barn, where she had struck up a great friendship with Mrs. Wiggins; and the others, waiting by the car, could hear their laughter. But at last she came.
“Goodness,” she said, “I haven’t laughed so in years. I’m coming out here again. That Mrs. Wiggins! Why, she’s as like my sister Eva as two peas.”
“It’s a wonderful place for Adoniram,” said Miss Threep. “I wish my boys at the orphanage had a lot of nice animals to play with.”
“Good land, bring ’em out any time,” said Mrs. Bean. “There’s plenty of animals here, and they like boys. Glad to have ’em.”
“I’ll send them over in my car any time, Miss Threep,” said Mrs. Church.
When they had gone, Freddy went down to his study and brushed and hung up his costume, and then threw himself down in his big chair. But he jumped up again with a squeal, for several large stones had been shoved in under the cover of the cushion. As he stood rubbing himself, he heard a faint giggle, and he made a dive under the table and pul
led out Georgie.
“Hello, mamma,” said Georgie, struggling to get away. “How’s my mamma? Did she hurt herself on the nassy old chair?”
“You—you pup!” said Freddy. “Playing tricks on me, are you?”
“Oh, no, mamma!” said Georgie. “I was just trying to make my mamma’s chair nice and comfortable, but I’m not very bright, and maybe I did it wrong. Did I, mamma, huh?”
Freddy scowled at him, then he laughed and let him go. “Well, I guess we’re even,” he said. “But now get out of here. I’m going to bed.”
“Kiss Georgie good-night?” said the dog, then turned and dashed through the door, and heard the bolt snap into place behind him.
XII
The Expedition Sets Out
The four mice—Eek and Quik and Eeny and Cousin Augustus—were sitting on the end of a beam that stuck out under the gable of the barn. It was the first really hot day of summer, but up there there was always a little breeze. Eek and Eeny were talking about things they liked to eat, and Cousin Augustus was asleep as usual, and Quik had a toothache, so that he was pretty quiet. Only now and then he would say: “Ouch!” so that the others wouldn’t forget his tooth, or to feel sorry for him.
At first they had felt sorry for him. But after he had said: “Ouch!” about two hundred times they didn’t have any sorry feeling left.
“I wish you’d shut up about that tooth,” said Eeny finally. “All you have to do is have it out, and then it won’t ache any more.”
“That’s all you know about it,” said Quik. “And I must say you aren’t very sympathetic. When I’m suffering tortures! Oh! Ouch! There it goes again.”
Cousin Augustus opened one eye, stretched, opened the other eye, and gave a loud yawn. At least it was loud for a mouse. “Still yawping about that tooth?” he inquired sleepily. “Go on in and see Uncle Ben. He’ll yank it out with those little pliers of his. Just one terrible final pang, and it’s gone forever. Whew, I’m hot! And sticky. Wonder why it always makes you sticky to sleep in the daytime? Let’s go down and have a swim.”
Quik followed his brothers slowly down from the beam. They had to pass through the loft where Uncle Ben was at work on his clocks. Suddenly Eek and Eeny, who had been whispering together, turned and grabbed Quik and they dragged him, protesting shrilly, up on to the work-bench. Then Cousin Augustus held his mouth open with his paws.
“Tooth?” said Uncle Ben.
“Yes, he’s decided to have it out at last,” said Eeny.
Quik tried to say something, but both Cousin Augustus’s forepaws were in his mouth so all that came out was a faint squeak.
Uncle Ben didn’t use his pliers. He just reached in with a finger and thumb and the tooth was so loose that it almost fell into his hand. Then he scratched the still struggling Quik gently between the ears, grinned at him, and went back to his work.
Quik was pretty mad, and he said what he thought of his brothers in no uncertain terms. But pretty soon he calmed down. For after he had poked his tongue into the hole where the tooth had been a few times, he found that the ache was indeed gone. “Just the same,” he said, “you didn’t have to drag me in like that. I was going anyway. I just didn’t like to—erk!” he went hiccuping suddenly. “There! You see? Now you’ve given me the hiccups.”
They went down across the barnyard to the duck pond. Alice and Emma were sitting comfortably under the shade of a bush, and Quik joined them while the other three mice plunged into the water.
“Why aren’t you going in, Quik?” Alice asked.
“I just had my tooth pulled,” said the mouse. “I was afraid I might catch cold in it.”
Alice gave a little quacking laugh. “How funny you are, Quik! How could you catch cold in it if it isn’t there?”
“He means that he might catch cold in the place where it was, sister,” said Emma. “I don’t think you ought to laugh at him. It must be dreadful to have teeth. You ought to be a duck, Quik.”
“Erk!” said the mouse.
“I beg your pardon?” said Emma politely.
“I—that was just a hiccup. I didn’t say anything.”
“Oh, look, sister!” exclaimed Alice, ruffling her feathers in alarm. “Is that a hawk?”
High up in the blue above them a black speck was floating. It hardly seemed to move, then suddenly it began to grow in size—larger, larger, larger.…
Quacking distractedly, the ducks ran for cover, burrowing into the long grass. The mice were less frightened. There was little danger from a hawk they could see. It was only when a hawk pounced on them unawares that they might be caught. They crouched under the bank, watching.
The hawk came down like a bullet, his wings folded. But he was not aiming at the ducks. There was a tremendous splash in the middle of the pond, he went completely under, then came up, and they could hear the whistle of his feathers as his wings beat the air, and see the silvery gleam of the fish in his curved beak. He circled the pond, then lighted on a dead limb overhead.
He was a beautiful bird, almost as big as an eagle, with black and white plumage. He held the fish in one claw while he cocked his head to look down with fierce yellow eyes into the ducks’ hiding-place.
“Come on out, girls,” he said. “Today’s Friday—fish day.” He laughed and began to eat the fish. His laugh was harsh, but rather pleasant-sounding.
Alice and Emma came waddling out, smoothing down their feathers and trying to look dignified. “I guess we know an osprey when we see one,” said Emma. “We weren’t hiding. That is,” she added, not wanting to be untruthful, “we weren’t hiding from you.”
“You’d be fools if you did,” said the fish-hawk. “I’d have to be darned hungry to eat duck. No offence,” he said quickly.
“None taken,” said Alice. “But do you live around here? I haven’t seen you before.”
“Gosh, no, I come from up Boonville way. North of here a long ways. I’m just going down into the southern part of the state to visit my aunt. Not that I want to see her much. She’s got pretty cranky the past few years, living alone as she does. But she lives on the Susquehanna, and I’m told that the fishing down there is pretty good this year, after the floods. Hope the fish are better than this one. Pretty brackish, he was. I expect this water is too stagnant.”
“It’s very good water,” said Alice sharply. “It’s the clearest, purest water in the county. My Uncle Wesley always said so, and he knew.”
“Must be a terrible county,” said the hawk, laughing again. “Oh now, don’t get sore. I was only kidding you.—Well, what’s the matter with that mouse?” For Quik, who with the other mice had come out on the bank, had hiccuped again.
“I’ve got the hiccups,” said Quik. “I had a tooth pulled and that started me doing it, and now I can’t stop.”
“Do you want to stop?” asked the fish-hawk.
“Of course I want to stop,” said Quik crossly. “You don’t think I—erk!—enjoy it, do you?”
“Well, I dunno. I thought maybe you wanted to do it so you could give pleasure to others. It seems to amuse your friends.”
“They aren’t my friends, they’re my brothers,” said Quik.
“Ah, that’s different,” said the hawk seriously. “Well, I can stop the hiccups for you.” He winked at the ducks, spread his wings, and rose in the air. He circled the pond once, then, with a quick swoop, swept up Quik in his strong claws, carried him out over the pond, and dropped him in.
Quik swam rapidly to shore. He stared up angrily at the hawk, who had returned to the dead limb. “You big bully,” he said. “I’ll get even with you for this. You wait—I’ll—”
“Oh, come, come,” said the hawk good-naturedly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? The only way to cure hiccups is to get good and scared. I scared ’em out of you. You ought to be grateful.”
“Eh?” said Quik. “Why, you did. They’re gone.”
“Sure, they’re gone. And I’d better be gone too, if I expect to get to my aunt’s in tim
e for dinner. Well, so long.” With a swish of wings he took flight.
“Well, I must say,” said Emma, “he’s a lively one and no mistake. I wouldn’t wonder if—”
“Here he comes back again,” said Alice.
They looked up to see the hawk alight again on the dead branch.
“Say, look here,” he said, “how’d that boy over there back of the pigpen get down here so quick?”
“Down here?” said Alice. “What do you mean? What boy?”
“He means Adoniram, I guess,” said Eeny. “He’s over there with Freddy, having a laughing lesson.”
“Why, he lives here,” said Alice.
“Go on,” said the hawk. “I guess I know that boy. I’ve seen him enough times lately, fishing in the canal up by Boonville. He was there when I left this morning, and unless he flew he couldn’t have got here before I did.”
“Wait a minute,” said Cousin Augustus excitedly. “Do you know what he’s saying, you people? A boy that looks like Adoniram, fishing in the canal? Oh, look, you, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is, where did you say that boy was?”
“Take it easy, mouse, or you’ll be getting the hiccups like your brother,” said the hawk. “What is all this, anyway?”
“Why, the boy you left this morning must be the boy we’ve all been looking for,” said Alice. And she explained about the search for Byram. “But haven’t you seen the notices in the papers, or the handbills Mr. Boomschmidt got out, offering a reward?”
“I’m not much of a hand for reading, and that’s the truth,” said the hawk. “But if what you say is so—”
“Certainly it is so,” said Alice with dignity.
“All right, don’t get het up. That’s just a manner of speaking. I mean, if this is the boy, I can tell you where to find him all right. Wheel Boy, that’s a classy car. Belong to your boss?”
A long black car had turned in at the gate, and they could see it bumping across the barnyard and down the lane to the pigpen, where it stopped. A chauffeur in a black uniform got out and opened the door, and a large woman, twinkling and fluttering all over with ribbons and jewels, was helped out. They saw her go forward, holding out her hand, and disappear on the other side of the pigpen.
The Clockwork Twin Page 11
