Ruth Fielding At Sunrise Farm; Or, What Became of the Raby Orphans

by Alice B. Emerson

  CHAPTER XXIV--"SO THAT'S ALL RIGHT"

  "And here it is 'ong past suppertime," groaned Heavy; "it's gettingdarker every minute, and the fireworks ought to be set off, and we can'tdo a thing!"

  "Who'd have the heart to eat, with those children wandering out there inthe woods?" snapped Mercy Curtis.

  "What's _heart_ got to do with eating?" grumbled the plump girl. "And Iwas thinking quite as much of the little girls here as I was of myself.Why! here is one of the poor kiddies asleep, I do declare."

  The party in the big tent was pretty solemn. Even the six little girlsfrom the orphanage could not play, or laugh, under the presentcircumstances. And, in addition, it looked as though all the fun for theevening would be spoiled.

  The searching party had been gone an hour. Those remaining behind hadseen the twinkling lanterns trail away over the edge of the hill anddisappear. Now all they could see from the tent were the stars, and thefireflies, with now and then a rocket soaring heavenward from somedistant farm, or hamlet, where the Glorious Fourth was being fittinglycelebrated.

  Madge and Helen came out with a hamper of sandwiches and there waslemonade, but not even the little folk ate with an appetite. The daywhich, at Sunrise Farm, was planned to be so memorable, threatened nowto be remembered for a very unhappy cause.

  Down in the wood lot that extended from below some of Mr. Steele'shayfields clear into the next township, the little party of searchers,led by old Mr. Caslon, had separated into parties of two each, to combthe wilderness.

  None of the men knew the wood as did Mr. Caslon, and of course the boysand Sadie (who had refused to go back) were quite unfamiliar with it.

  "Don't go out of sight of the flash of each other's lanterns," advisedthe farmer.

  And by sticking to this rule it was not likely that any of the sorelytroubled searchers would, themselves, be lost. As they flounderedthrough the thick undergrowth, they shouted, now and then, as loudly asthey could. But nothing but the echoes, and the startled nightbirds,replied.

  Again and again they called for the lost boys by name. Sadie's shrillvoice carried as far as anybody's, without doubt, and her crying for"Willie" and "Dickie" should have brought those delinquents to light,had they heard her.

  Sadie stuck close to Mr. Caslon, as he told her to. But the way throughthe brush was harder for the girl than for the rest of them. Thick matsof greenbriars halted them. They were torn, and scratched, and stung bythe vegetable pests; yet Sadie made no complaint.

  As for the mosquitoes and other stinging insects--well, they were out onthis night, it seemed, in full force. They buzzed around the heads ofthe searchers in clouds, attracted by the lanterns. Above, in the trees,complaining owls hooted their objections to the searchers' presence inthe forest. The whip-poor-wills reiterated their determination from deadlimbs or rotting fence posts. And in the wet places the deep-voicedfrogs gave tongue in many minor keys.

  "Oh, dear!" sighed Sadie to the farmer, "the little fellers will bescared half to death when they hear all these critters."

  "And how about you?" he asked.

  "Oh, I'm used to 'em. Why, I've slept out in places as bad as thismore'n one night. But Willie and Dickie ain't used to it."

  One end of the line of searchers touched the pond. They shouted thatinformation to the others, and then they all pushed on. It was in themind of all that, perhaps, the children had circled back to the pond.

  But their shouts brought no hoped-for reply, although they echoed acrossthe open water, and were answered eerily from the farther shore.

  There were six couples; therefore the line extended for a long way intothe wood, and swept a wide area. They marched on, bursting through thevines and climbers, searching thick patches of jungle, and oftenshouting in chorus till the wood rang again.

  Tom and one of the stablemen, who were at the lower end of the line,finally came to the mouth of that gorge out of which the brook sprang.To the east of this opening lay a considerable valley and it was decidedto search this vale thoroughly before following the stream higher.

  It was well they did so, for half a mile farther on, Tom and hiscompanion made a discovery. They came upon the tall, blasted trunk of ahuge old tree that had a great hollow at its foot. This hollow wasblinded by a growth of vines and brush, yet as Tom flashed his lanternupon it, it seemed to him as though the vines had been disturbed.

  "It may be the lair of some animal, sir," suggested the stableman, asTom attempted to peer in.

  "Nothing much more dangerous than foxes in these woods now, I am told,"returned the boy. "And this is not a fox's burrow--hello!"

  His sudden, delighted shriek rang through the wood and up the hillside.

  "I've found them! I've found them!" the boy repeated, and dived into thehollow tree.

  His lantern showed him and the stableman the six wanderers rolled uplike kittens in a nest. They opened their eyes sleepily, yawning andblinking. One began to snivel, but Willie Raby at once delivered a sharppunch to that one, saying, in grand disgust:

  "Baby! Didn't I tell you they'd come for us? They was sure to--wasn'tthey, Dickie?"

  "Yep," responded that youngster, quite as cool about it as his brother.

  Tom's shouts brought the rest of the party in a hurry. Mr. Caslon hauledeach "fresh air" out by the collar and stood him on his feet. When hehad counted them twice over to make sure, he said:

  "Well, sir! of all the young scamps that ever were born--Willie Raby!weren't you scared?"

  "Nope," declared Willie. "Some of these other kids begun ter snivel whenit got dark; but Dickie an' me would ha' licked 'em if they'd kep' thatup. Then we found that good place to sleep----"

  "But suppose it had been the bed of some animal?" asked Bobbins,chuckling.

  "Nope," said Willie, shaking his head. "There was spider webs all overthe hole we went in at, so we knowed nobody had been there much lately.And it was a pretty good place to sleep. Only it was too warm in thereat first. I couldn't get to sleep right away."

  "But you didn't hear us shouting for you?" queried one of the othersearchers.

  "Nope. I got to sleep. You see, I thought about bears an' burglars an'goblins, an' all those sort o' things, an' that made me shiver, so Iwent to sleep," declared the earnest twin.

  A shout of laughter greeted this statement. The searchers picked up thelittle fellows and carried them down to the edge of the pond, where theway was much clearer, and so on to the plain path to Sunrise Farm.

  So delighted were they to have found the six youngsters without ascratch upon them, that nobody--not even Mr. Caslon--thought to ask therunaways how they had come to wander so far from Sunrise Farm.

  It was ten o'clock when the party arrived at the big house on the hill.Isadore had run ahead to tell the good news and everybody wasaroused--even to the six fellow-orphans of the runaways--to welcome thewanderers.

  "My goodness! let's have the fireworks and celebrate their return,"exclaimed Madge.

  But Mr. Steele quickly put his foot down on that.

  "I am afraid that Willie and Dickie, and Jim and the rest of them, oughtreally to be punished for their escapade, and the trouble and frightthey have given us," declared the proprietor of Sunrise Farm.

  "However, perhaps going without their supper and postponing the rest ofthe celebration until to-morrow night, will be punishment enough. Butdon't you let me hear of you six boys trying to run away again, whileyou remain with Mr. and Mrs. Caslon," and he shook a threatening fingerat the wanderers.

  "Now Mr. and Mrs. Caslon will take you home," for the big wagon had beendriven around from the stables while he was speaking. Mrs. Caslon, tooworried to remain in doubt about the fresh airs, had trudged away up thehill to Sunrise Farm, while the party was out in search of the lostones.

  Mrs. Steele and the girls bade a cordial good-night to the farmer'swife, as she climbed up to the front seat of the vehicle on one side. Onthe other, Mr. Steele stopped Mr. Caslon before he could climb up.

  "The women folks have arran
ged for you and your wife to come to-morrowevening and help take care of these little mischiefs, while we finishthe celebration," said the rich man, with a detaining hand upon Mr.Caslon's shoulder. "We need you."

  "I reckon so, neighbor," said the farmer, chuckling. "We're a littlemore used to them lively young eels than you be."

  "And--and we want you and your wife to come for your own sakes," addedMr. Steele, in some confusion. "We haven't even been acquainted before,sir. I consider that I am at fault, Caslon. I hope you'll overlook itand--and--as you say yourself--_be neighborly_."

  "Sure! Of course!" exclaimed the old man, heartily. "Ain't no need oftwo neighbors bein' at outs, Mr. Steele. You'll find that soft wordsbutter more parsnips than any other kind. If you an' I ain't jest agreedon ev'ry p'int, let's get together an' settle it ourselves. No need oflawyers' work in it," and the old farmer climbed nimbly to the highseat, and the wagon load of cheering, laughing youngsters started downthe hill.

  "And so _that's_ all right," exclaimed the delighted Ruth, who had heardthe conversation between the two men, and could scarcely hide herdelight in it.

  "I feel like dancing," she said to Helen. "I just _know_ Mr. Steele andMr. Caslon will understand each other after this, and that there will beno quarrel between them over the farms."

  Which later results proved to be true. Not many months afterward, Madgewrote to Ruth that her father and the old farmer had come to a verysatisfactory agreement. Mr. Caslon had agreed to sell the old homesteadto Mr. Steele for a certain price, retaining a life occupancy of it forhimself and wife, and, in addition, the farmer was to take over thegeneral superintendency of Sunrise Farm for Mr. Steele, on a yearlysalary.

  "So much for the work of the 'terrible twins'!" Ruth declared when sheheard this, for the girl of the Red Mill did not realize how much she,herself, had to do with bringing about Mr. Steele's change of attitudetoward his neighbor.