CHAPTER XII
BETTY DEFENDS HERSELF
APPARENTLY Mr. Peabody had never taken Betty's threat to ask her uncleto take her away seriously, and her presence at the farm soon came tobe an accepted fact. Conditions did not improve, but Betty developeda sturdy, wholesome philosophy that helped her to make the best ofeverything. Uncle Dick wrote seldom, but packages from Philadelphiacontinued to come at intervals, and always proved to be practical andneedful.
"Though as to that, he couldn't have the lawyer send me anything thatwouldn't be useful," said Betty to herself. "I never saw a place wherethere was so much _nothing_ as here at Bramble Farm."
One morning when the pouring rain kept her indoors, Betty was exploringthe little used parlor. Mrs. Peabody seldom entered the room save toclean it and close it up, and Betty opened a corner of the blind withsomething like trepidation. A large shotgun over the mantel attractedher attention at once.
"Don't touch that thing--it's always kept loaded," said the voice ofLieson at the door.
Betty shivered and drew away from the shelf. Lieson showed histobacco-stained teeth in a friendly grin.
"I was up attic getting my rubber boots," he explained, "and I saw themail wagon stop at the box. Do you want I should go down and get themail?"
"Oh, would you?" Betty's tone was eager. "Perhaps there is a letterfrom my uncle. That would be so kind of you, Mr. Lieson, becauseotherwise I may have to wait till it stops raining."
"I'll go," said Lieson awkwardly, and he went stumping down the hall.
Wapley and Lieson were rough and untidy, but Betty found herself likingthem better and feeling sorry for them as time went on. They workedhard and were never thanked and had very little pleasure after theirday's work was over. Several times now they had done little kindnessesfor Betty, and she had tried to show that she appreciated their efforts.
Lieson came back from the mail box carrying a square package, but noletter. Though Mr. Peabody was presumably waiting in the barn for himand fuming at his delay, the man showed such a naive interest in theparcel that Betty could not resist asking him to wait while she openedit.
"Why, it's a camera!" she exclaimed delightedly, as she took out thesquare box. "I'll take your picture, Mr. Lieson, as soon as the suncomes out, to pay you for walking through all this rain to get the mailfor me."
"Say, would you?" Lieson showed more animation than Betty had evernoticed in him. "Honest? I got a lady friend, and she's always at me tosend her my picture. She sure would admire to have one of me."
"All right, she hasn't long to wait," promised Betty gaily. "Here aretwo rolls of film, and luckily I know how to operate a camera. Mr.Arnold had a good one and he taught me. The first sunny day, remember,Mr. Lieson."
The rain continued all that day, and at night when Betty went up to bedshe heard it pattering on the tin roof of the porch which was under herwindow.
Betty had managed to make her room more habitable, and, relieved of anyfear of embarrassing her hostess, had tacked netting at the two windowsand bought herself a lamp with a good burner. She scrupulously paidMr. Peabody for the oil she used, and while he showed plainly that heconsidered burning a light at night in summer a wicked extravagance, hedid not interfere.
"Now let me see," mused Betty. "Shall I answer Mrs. Arnold's lastletter or go to bed? I guess I'll go to bed. I'll have all day towrite letters to-morrow."
She was brushing her hair when a noise in the next room startled her.She knew that it was not occupied, for, besides herself, the Peabodyswere the only ones who slept on the second floor. Bob Henderson and thehired men were housed in the attic. The Peabodys' bedroom was furtherdown the hall, on the other side of the house.
"Pshaw!" Betty put her brush back on the table and gave her head ashake. "I mustn't get nervous. We're too far out in the country forburglars; and, besides, what in the world would they come here after?"
Mr. Peabody differed from the majority of his neighbors in that hebanked most of his funds. Some said it was because, if he had been inthe habit of keeping money in the house, his help would have murderedhim cheerfully and taken the cash as a reward. Be that as it may, itwas well known that Joseph Peabody seldom had actual money in hispocket or in his tin strong box, and now Betty was glad to recall this.
She had braided her hair and put out the light and was just slippinginto bed when she heard the noise again. This time it sounded againstthe wall. Betty stealthily crept out of bed and ran to her door. Therewas no door key, but she shot the bolt.
"That's some protection," she murmured, hopping into bed again. "Ifthere are burglars in the house, I suppose I've locked 'em out to scareMr. and Mrs. Peabody to death. But at any rate they have each other,and I'm all alone."
Closing her eyes tight, Betty began to say her prayers, but she fellasleep before she had finished.
She woke in the dark to hear a noise directly under her bed!
She sat up, her eyes trying to pierce the darkness, wondering why shehad not taken the precaution of looking under the bed before she lockedherself into a room with a burglar.
"If I look now and see his legs, I'll faint away, I know I shall," shethought, her teeth chattering, though the night was warm. "I wish togoodness Uncle Dick had sent me a revolver."
That reminded her of the shotgun downstairs. With Betty to think was toact, and she sprang noiselessly out of bed and ran to the door. Thankgoodness, the bolt slipped without squeaking. Downstairs ran Betty andlifted the heavy shotgun from its place over the mantel. She was nolonger afraid, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She was havinga grand adventure. She had shot a gun a few times under Mr. Arnold'sinstructions and careful supervision when he was teaching his boys howto handle one, and she thought she knew all about it.
She gained her room, breathless, for the gun was heavy. At thethreshold she stopped a moment to listen. Yes, there was the noiseagain. The burglar was unaware of her flight.
Unaware herself of the absurdity of her deductions, Betty raised theheavy gun and pointed it toward the bed. As well as she could tell, shewas aiming under the bed. She shut her eyes tight and fired.
The gun kicked unmercifully, and Betty ejaculated a loud "Ow!" whichwas lost in the babble of sound that immediately followed the shot.There was the sound of breaking glass under the bed, a shrill screamfrom Mrs. Peabody, and the thunderous bellow of Mr. Peabody demanding:"What in Sam Hill are those varmints up to now?" Evidently heattributed the racket to Wapley and Lieson, who had been known to comehome late from Glenside.
In a few minutes they were all gathered at Betty's door, Bobopen-mouthed and speechless, the two men sleepily curious, the Peabodysloudly demanding to know what the matter was.
"Are you hurt, Betty?" asked Mrs. Peabody anxiously. "Where did you getthe gun, dear? Did something frighten you?"
"It's a burglar!" declared Betty. "I heard him under the bed! But Igot him, I know I did!"
"Light the lamp and look under the bed, Bob," commanded Mr. Peabodyharshly. "I don't believe this burglar stuff, but the girl's shot off agood charge of buckshot, no doubt of that. Find out what she hit."
Bob lit the lamp and stooped down to look. Then his lips twitched.
"Rat!" he announced briefly. "A big one."
"Haul him out," directed Lieson. "Let's have a look at him."
Betty had shrunk inside the doorway when the lamp was lit, conscious ofher attire, and now she managed to reach her dressing gown and fling itaround her.
"He's in too many pieces," said Bob doubtfully. "Guess we'll have toget a dustpan and brush."
Mr. Peabody and the two men went grumbling back to bed, Peabody takingthe gun for safekeeping, but Mrs. Peabody sent Bob down to the kitchenfor the articles he mentioned, declaring that Betty should not have tofinish the night in a room with a dead rat.
"If there was another bed made up, I'd move you into it," she said."But I haven't an extra place ready."
Betty had pinned up her hair and put on her slippers before Bob cameback, a
nd had put her best pink crepe dressing gown around Mrs.Peabody, who presented an incongruous vision so attired. Bob looked atBetty in admiration. With her tumbled dark hair and pink cheeks andblue gown and slippers, the boy thought her the prettiest thing he hadever seen.
"I didn't want to tell you--don't look," he whispered, getting down onhis knees to sweep out the remains of the slaughtered rat, "but thebuckshot hit two olive bottles, and there's some mess here under yourbed. I guess the rat was after the crackers."
Bob carried down the dead rat and mopped up the brine from the olivesand threw out the debris, making several trips downstairs without amurmur. Finally it was all cleaned up, and they could go back to theirrooms and finish the remainder of the night in probable peace.
"If you hear a noise"--Bob could not resist this parting shot--"rundown and grab the dinner bell. We'll hear it just as quick, and youmight shoot the potted ham full of bullets next time."
Betty did not sleep well, and once she woke, sure that she had heardloud talking and shouts. She thought the noise came from the attic.
"Lieson had the nightmare after your shindy," announced Bob at thebreakfast table. "He suddenly began shouting and got me by the throat,declaring that if I didn't pay him every cent I owed him he'd kill me.Wapley had to come and pull him away, or I don't know but he would havechoked the breath out of me."
"I had a bad dream," said Lieson sullenly.
The rain was still coming down and all the good-nature of the daybefore had left Lieson. He refused to answer a remark of Mr. Peabody's,and was evidently in a bad humor.
"He and the old man had a run in before breakfast," whispered Bob,pulling on his boots preparatory to carrying out food to the pigs.Betty stood at the window and they could talk without being overheard."It was something about money. Well, Betty, are you going gunningto-day?"
"You needn't tease me," replied Betty, laughing. "I feel foolishenough, without being reminded of last night. I think I'll go upstairsand sew on buttons as a penance. There's nothing I hate to do worse."
"Do it well then," suggested the irrepressible Bob, slamming the doorjust in time to avoid the glass of water Betty tossed after him.
Betty Gordon at Bramble Farm; Or, The Mystery of a Nobody Page 12
