CHAPTER XII HUMAN FREIGHT ON THE DUMMY
Tavia almost fell over Ned. Dorothy grasped the door. The maid ruffled upher nice white apron!
They all scrambled into the living room and there was more, for withthem, in fact, in Ned's strong arms, was a child, a boy with blazingcheeks and defiant eyes.
"Look, mother! He came up on the dumb waiter!" said Ned, as soon as hecould speak.
"Yes, and I nearly killed him," blurted Tavia. "I thought the place washaunted!"
"On the dumb waiter?" repeated Dorothy.
The maid nodded her head decidedly.
"Why!" ejaculated Mrs. White, sitting up very straight.
"I didn't mean anything," said the boy, reflecting good breeding inchoice of language, if not in manner of transportation. "I was justcoming up to fly kites."
"But on the dummy!" queried Ned.
"Well, we wouldn't dare come up any other way. This apartment was notrented before and we had to sneak in on the janitor. This is the bestlobby for kites," and his eyes danced at the thought.
"But where's the kite?" questioned Ned.
"Talent's got it."
"Talent?" repeated Dorothy.
"Yes, he's the other fellow--the smartest fellow around. His real name--"he paused to laugh.
"Is what?" begged Tavia, coming over to the little fellow, with no hiddenshow of admiration.
"It's too silly, but he didn't choose it," apologized the boy. "It'sC-l-a-u-d!"
"That's a pretty name," interposed Mrs. White, feeling obliged to saysomething agreeable.
"But he can't bear it," declared the boy. "My name is worse. Motherbrought it from Rome."
"Catacombs?" suggested Tavia, foolishly.
"No," the lad lowered his voice in disgust. "But it's Raphael."
"That was the name of a great painter," said Mrs. White, again feelinghow difficult it was to talk to a small and enterprising New York boy.
"Maybe," admitted the little one, "but I have Raffle from the boys, andthat's all right. Means going off all the time."
Everyone laughed. Raffle looked uneasily at the door.
"But where's that kite?" questioned Ned.
"Talent was waiting until I got up. Then I was to pull him up. He has thekites."
"As long as I didn't kill you, Raffle," said Tavia, "I guess we won'thave to have you arrested for false entering."
"Dorothy caught the rope just in time," Ned explained, in answer to hismother's look of inquiry. "Tavia was so scared she was going to let itdrop."
"We had ordered things," Tavia explained further, "and thought they werecoming up. I was just crazy to have something to do with all the machinesin the place, so went to get the things. Imagine me seeing somethingsquirm in the dark!"
"But you weren't afraid," said Raffle to Dorothy. "You just hauled meout."
"Your coat got torn," Dorothy remarked to divert attention. "What willyour mother say?"
"She will never see it," declared the little fellow. "She goes torehearsal all day and sings all night. Tillie--she's the girl--she likesme. She won't mind mending it," and he bunched together in his small handthe hole in the short coat.
"I'll tell you," interposed Ned, "they say dark haired people fetch goodluck, and you are our first caller. Suppose we get Talent, and bring himup properly, kites and all. Then perhaps, when I get something to eat,you may show me how to fly a kite over the Hudson."
"Bully!" exclaimed Raffle. "I'll get him right away. If John--thejanitor--catches him waiting with the kites--"
But he was gone with the rest of the sentence.
Ned slapped his knees in glee. Tavia stretched out full length, shoes andall, on the rose-colored divan, Dorothy shook with merry laughter, butMartha, the maid with the ruffled-up apron, turned to the kitchenette tohide her emotion.
"New York is certainly a busy place," said Ned, finally. "We may get awireless from home on the clothes line. Tavia, I warn you not to hanghandkerchiefs on the roof. It's tabooed, for--country girls."
Tavia groaned in disagreement. The fact was she had made her way to theroof before she had explored her own and Dorothy's rooms, and even Neddid not relish the idea of her sight-seeing from that dangerous height.But New York was actually fascinating Tavia. She would likely be lookingfor "bulls and bears" on Wall Street next, thought Ned.
"Aunty, we are going to have the nicest lunch," interrupted Dorothy. "Weall helped Martha; it was hard to find things, and get the right dishes,you know. I guess the last folks who had this apartment must have had aChinese cook, for everything is put away backwards."
"Yes, the pans were on the top shelves and the cups on the bottom," Taviaagreed. "I took to the pans--I love to climb on those queer ladders thatroll along!"
"Like silvery moonlight," Ned helped out, "only the clouds won'tdevelop."
"Wouldn't I give a lot to have had all the boys share this fun," saidDorothy. Then, realizing the looks that followed the word "boys," sheblushed peach-blow.
A Japanese gong sounded gently in the place called hall.
"There's the lunch bell," declared Dorothy. "And isn't that littleAeolian harp on the sitting room door too sweet!"
"The sitting room is a private room in an apartment," explained Ned,mischievously, "and it's a great idea to have an alarm clock on thedoor."
"There comes the boy with the kite," Tavia exclaimed. "I don't believe Icare for lunch."
"Oh, yes you do, my dear," objected Mrs. White. "There are two boys andwe will have to trust them on the balcony with their kites. The rail isquite high, and they look rather well able to take care of themselves."
Tavia looked longingly at the boys, who now were making their way to whatDorothy had termed the Dove Cote. Ned insisted upon postponing his lunchuntil they got their strings both untied and tied again--first from thestick then to the rail. Martha said things would be cold, but Ned wasobdurate.
At last Mrs. White and her guests were seated at the polished table inthe green and white room. She glanced about approvingly, while Marthabrought in the dishes.
"I made the pudding," Dorothy confessed. "I remember our old housekeeperused to make that Brown Betty out of stale cake, and as Martha could getno other kind of cake handy I thought it would do."
"A cross between pudding, cake and pie," remarked Tavia, "but mostlysweet gravy. It smells good, however. And I--cleaned the lettuce. If youget any little black bugs--lizards or snails--"
"Oh, Tavia, don't!" protested Dorothy, who at that moment was in the actof putting a lettuce leaf between her lips.
"But I was only going to say that these reptiles had been properly bathedand are perfectly wholesome. In fact they have been sterilized," Taviasaid, calmly.
"At any rate," put in Mrs. White, "you all have succeeded in getting avery nice luncheon together. I had no idea you and Dorothy could be souseful. We might have gotten along with one more maid to help Martha.Then we would have had more house room."
"I should think you could get the janitor to do odd jobs," suggestedTavia, over a mouthful of broiled steak.
"Janitor!" exclaimed Mrs. White. "My dear, you do not know New Yorkjanitors! They are a set of aristocrats all by themselves. We will haveto look out that we please the janitor, or we may go without service aday or two just for punishment."
"Then I will have to be awfully nice to ours," went on Tavia, in the wayshe had of always inviting trouble of one kind if not exactly the kindunder discussion. "I saw him. He has the loveliest red cheeks. Looks likea Baldwin apple left over from last year."
A rush through the apartment revealed Ned and the two kite boys.
"Anything left?" asked Ned. "These two youngsters have to wait until twoo'clock for a bite to eat, and I thought--"
"Of course," interrupted his mother, pleasantly, as she touched the bellfor Martha. "We will set plates for them at once. Glad to have ourneighbors so friendly."
The little fellows did not look one bit abashed--
another sign of NewYork, Dorothy noted mentally. Talent, or Tal, as they called him, managedto get on the same chair with Raffle, as they waited for the extra placesto be made at the table.
Tavia gazed at them with eyes that showed no wonder. She expected so manythings of New York that each surprise seemed to have its own niche in herdelighted sentiments.
"You see," said Raffle, "Tillie goes out for a walk about noon time, thenmother gets in sometimes at two, and sometimes later. A feller always hasto wait for someone."
"Does Tillie take--a baby out?" ventured Dorothy.
"Baby!" repeated the boy. "I'm the baby. She never takes me out," atwhich assertion the two boys laughed merrily.
"She just takes a complexion walk," Ned helped out.
Martha did not smile very sweetly when told to make two more places atthe table, but she did not frown either. In a short time Ned, Raffle andTalent, with Tavia for company, and Dorothy assisting Martha, were leftby Mrs. White to their own pleasure, while she excused herself and wentoff to write some notes. She remembered even then what Ned had said aboutboys liking to have things to themselves, and was not sorry of theexcuse.
But Tavia held to her chair. She knew the strangers would say somethinginteresting, and her "bump" of curiosity was not yet reduced.
"My big brother goes to the university," Raffle said. "But he eats at theGrill. He never has to wait."
"Your brother?" repeated Tavia, as if that was the very remark she hadbeen waiting for.
"Now Tavia," cautioned Ned.
"Now Ned," said Tavia, in a tone of defiance.
"I only wanted to say," continued Ned, "that this big brother is probablystudying law, and he may know a lot about--well, the number of persons inwhom one person may be legitimately interested."
The small boys were too much absorbed in their meal to pay attention tosuch a technical discussion. Tavia only turned her eyes up, then rolledthem down quickly, in a sort of scorn, for answer to Ned.
"Now for your pudding," announced Dorothy, who came from the kitchenettewith three large dishes of the Brown Betty on a small tray.
"Um-m-m!" breathed the boys, drawing deep breaths so as to fully inhalethe delicious aroma.
"What's that?" asked Ned, as the outside door bell rang vigorously.
In reply Martha announced that the janitor wanted to know if anyone hadtied a kite to the lobby rail.
"The janitor!" exclaimed both small boys in one breath. Then, withoutfurther warning, they simultaneously ducked under the table.
Dorothy Dale in the City Page 13
