"Oh, don't frighten her, Mr. Steele!" begged Ruth, still holding the
half wild girl. "You would not send her back to those awful people?"
"Tut, tut! I am no ogre, I hope," exclaimed the gentleman, rather put
out of countenance at this outburst. "I only mean the child well.
Doesn't she understand?"
"I won't go back to them Perkinses, I tell you!" cried Sadie, with a
stamp of her foot.
"It is not my intention to send you back. I mean to look up your record
and the record of the people you were placed with--Perkins, is it? The
authorities of the institution that had the care of you, should be made
to be more careful in their selection of homes for their charges.
"No. I will keep you here till I have had the matter sifted. If
those--those Perkinses, as you call them, are unfit to care for you, you
shall certainly not go back to them, my girl."
Sadie looked at him shrewdly. "But I don't want to stay here, Mister,"
she blurted out.
"My girl, you are not of an age when you should be allowed to choose for
yourself. Others, older and wiser, must choose for you. I would not feel
that I was doing right in allowing you to run wild again----"
"I gotter see the twins--I jest _gotter_ see 'em," said Sadie, faintly.
"And whether that Caslon is fit to have charge of you," bitterly added
Mr. Steele, "I have my doubts."
"Oh, surely, you will let her see her little brothers?" cried Ruth,
pleadingly.
"We will arrange about that--ahem!" said Mr. Steele. "But I will
communicate at once--by long distance telephone--with the matron of the
institution from which she came, and they can send a representative here
to talk with me----"
"And take me back there?" exclaimed Sadie. "No, I sha'n't! I sha'n't go!
So there!"
"Hoity-toity, Miss! Let's have no more of it, if you please," said the
gentleman, sternly. "You will stay here for the present. Don't you try
to run away from me, for if you do, I'll soon have you brought back. We
intend to treat you kindly here, but you must not abuse our kindness."
It was perhaps somewhat puzzling to Sadie Raby--this attitude of the very
severe gentleman. She had not been used to much kindness in her life,
and the sort that is forced on one is not generally appreciated by the
wisest of us. Therefore it is not strange if Sadie failed to understand
that Mr. Steele really meant to be her friend.
"Come away, Sadie," whispered Ruth, quite troubled herself by the turn
affairs had taken. "I am so sorry--but it will all come right in the
end----"
"If by comin' right, Miss, you means that I am goin' to see them twins,
you can jest _bet_ it will all come right," returned Sadie, gruffly,
when they were out in the hall. "For see 'em I will, an' _him_, nor
nobody else, won't stop me. As for goin' back to them Perkinses, or to
the orphanage, we'll see 'bout that," added Sadie, to herself, and
grimly.
Ruth feared very much that Mr. Steele would not have been quite so stern
and positive with the runaway, had it not been for his dislike for the
Caslons. Had Sadie's brothers been stopping with some other neighbor,
would Mr. Steele have delayed letting the runaway girl go to see them?
"Oh, dear, me! If folks would only be good-natured and stop being so
hateful to each other," thought the girl of the Red Mill. "I just _know_
that Mr. Steele would like Mr. Caslon a whole lot, if they really once
got acquainted!"
The rain had ceased falling by this time. The tempest had rolled away
into the east. A great rainbow had appeared and many of the household
were on the verandas to watch the bow of promise.
It was too wet, however, to venture upon the grass. The paths and
driveway glistened with pools of water. And under a big tree not far
from the front of the house, it was discovered that a multitude of
little toads had appeared--tiny little fellows no larger than one's
thumbnail.
"It's just been rainin' toads!" cried one of the younger Steele
children--Bennie by name. "Come on out, Ruthie, and see the toads that
comed down with the rainstorm."
Tom Cameron had already come up to speak with Sadie. He shook hands with
the runaway girl and spoke to her as politely as he would have to any of
his sister's friends. And Sadie, remembering how kind he had been to her
on the occasion when the tramps attacked her near Cheslow, responded to
his advances with less reluctance than she had to those of some of the
girls.
For it must be confessed that many of the young people looked upon the
runaway askance. She was so different from themselves!
Now that she was clean, and her hair brushed and tied with one of Ruth's
own ribbons, and she was dressed neatly, Sadie Raby did not _look_ much
different from the girls about her on the wide porch; but when she
spoke, her voice was hoarse, and her language uncouth.
Had she been plumper, she would have been a pretty girl. She was tanned
very darkly, and her skin was coarse. Nevertheless, given half the care
these other girls had been used to most of their lives, and Sadie Raby
would have been the equal of any.
Ruth came strolling back to the veranda, leaving Bennie watching the
toads--which remained a mystery to him. He was a lively little fellow of
six and the pet of the whole family.
As it chanced, he was alone out there on the drive, and the others were
now strolling farther and farther away from him along the veranda. The
boy ran out farther from the house, and danced up and down, looking at
the rainbow overhead.
Thus he was--a pretty sight in the glow of the setting sun--when a sudden
chorus of shouts and frightened cries arose from the rear of the house.
Men and maids were screaming. Then came the pounding of heavy hoofs.
Around the curve of the drive charged a great black horse, a frayed and
broken lead-rope hanging from his arching neck, his eyes red and
glowing, and his sleek black body all a-quiver with the joy of his
escape.
"The Black Douglass!" ejaculated Tom Cameron, in horror, for the great
horse was charging straight for the dancing child in the driveway.
It was the most dangerous beast upon Sunrise Farm--indeed, almost the
only savage creature Mr. Steele had retained when he bought out the
former owner of the stock farm and his stud of horses.
The Black Douglass was a big creature, with an uncertain temper, and was
handled only by the most careful men in Mr. Steele's employ. Somehow, on
this occasion, the brute had been allowed to escape.
Spurring the gravel with his iron shod hoofs, the horse galloped
straight at little Bennie. The child, suddenly made aware of his peril
by the screams of his brothers and sisters, turned blindly, staggered a
few steps, and fell upon his hands and knees.
Mr. Steele rushed from the house, but he was too far away. The men
chasing the released animal were at a distance, too. Tom Cameron started
down the steps, but Helen shrieked for him to return. Who was there to
face the snorting, prancing beast?
There was a flash of a slight figure down the steps and across the sod.
Like an arrow from a strong bow, Sadie Raby darted before the fallen
child. Nor was she helpless. The runaway knew what she was about.
As she ran from the veranda, she had seized a parasol that was leaning
against one of the pillars. Holding this in both hands, she presented it
to the charging horse, opening and shutting it rapidly as she advanced.
She leaped across Bennie and confronted the Black Douglass. The flighty
animal, seeing something before him that he did not at all understand,
changed his course with a frightened snort, and dashed off across the
lawn, cutting out great clods as he ran, and so around the house again
and out of sight.
Mr. and Mrs. Steele were both running to the spot. The gentleman picked
up the frightened Bennie, but handed him at once to his mother. Then he
turned and seized the girl by her thin shoulders.
"My dear girl! My dear girl!" he said, rather brokenly, turning her so
as to face him. "That was a brave thing to do. We can't thank you
enough. You can't understand----"
"Aw, it warn't anything. I knowed that horse wouldn't jump at us when he
seen the umbrel'. Horses is fools that way," said Sadie Raby, rather
shamefacedly.
But when Mrs. Steele knelt right down in the damp gravel beside her, and
with one arm around Bennie, put the other around the runaway and hugged
her--hugged her _tight_--Sadie was quite overcome, herself.
Madge Steele was crying frankly. Bobbins came rushing upon the scene,
and there was a general riot of exclamation and explanation.
"Say! you goin' to let me see my brothers now?" demanded the runaway,
who had a practical mind, if nothing more.
"Bob," said his father, quickly, "you have the pony put in the cart and
drive down there to Caslon's and bring those babies up here."
"Aw, Father! what'll I tell Caslon?" demanded the big fellow,
hesitatingly.
"Tell him--tell him----" For a moment, it was true, that Mr. Steele was
rather put to it for a reply. He found Ruth beside him, plucking his
sleeve.
"Let me go with Bobbins, sir," whispered the girl of the Red Mill. "I'll
know what to say to Mr. and Mrs. Caslon."
"I guess you will, Ruth. That's right. You bring the twins up here to
see their sister." Then he turned and smiled down at Sadie, and there
were tears behind his eyeglasses. "If I have my way, young lady, your
coming here to Sunrise Farm will be the best thing--for you and the
twins--that ever happened in your young lives!"