Perhaps Sadie Raby would have been just as well pleased had Mr. Steele
allowed her to go to the Caslons' to see her brothers, instead of having
them brought up the hill to Sunrise Farm. The gentleman, however, did
not do this because he disliked Caslon; Sadie had saved Bennie from what
might have been certain death, and the wealthy Mr. Steele was quite as
grateful as he was obstinate.
He was determined to show his gratitude to the friendless girl in a
practical manner. And the object of his gratitude would include her two
little brothers, as well. Oh, yes! Mr. Steele proposed to make Sadie
Raby glad that she had saved Bennie from the runaway horse.
The other girls and boys, beside the members of the Steele family, were
anxious now to show their approval of Sadie's brave deed. The wanderer
was quite bewildered at first by all the attention she received.
She was such a different looking girl, too, as has been already pointed
out, from the miserable little creature who had been found by Mr. Steele
in the shrubbery, that it was not hard to develop an interest in Sadie
Raby.
Encircled by the family and their young visitors on the veranda, Sadie
again related the particulars of her life and experience--and it was a
particularly sympathetic audience that listened to her. Mr. Steele drew
out a new detail that had escaped Ruth, even, in her confidences with
the strange child.
Although the "terrible twins" were unable to remember either father or
mother--orphan asylums are not calculated to encourage such remembrances
in infant minds--Sadie, as she had once said to Ruth, could clearly
remember both her parents.
And although they had died in distant Harburg, where the children had
been put into the orphanage, Sadie remembered that the family had
removed to that city, soon after the twins were born, from no less a
place than Darrowtown!
"Me, I got it in my head that mebbe somebody would remember pa and mom
in Darrowtown, and would give me a chance. That's another reason I come
hiking clear over here," said Sadie.
"We'll hunt your friends up--if there are any," Mr. Steele assured her.
Sadie looked at him shrewdly. "Say!" said she, "you treat me a whole lot
nicer than you did a while ago. Do folks have to do somethin' for your
family before you forget to be cross with them?"
It certainly was a facer! Mr. Steele flushed a little and scarcely knew
what to say in reply to this frank criticism. But at that moment the
two-wheel cart came into sight with the pony on the trot, and Ruth and
the twins waving their hands and shouting.
The meeting of the little chaps with their runaway sister was touching.
The three Raby orphans were very popular indeed at Sunrise Farm just
then.
Mr. Steele frankly admitted that this might be a case where custom could
be over-ridden, and the orphanage authorities ignored.
"Whether those Perkins people she was farmed out to, were as harsh as
she says----" he began, when Ruth interrupted eagerly:
"Oh, sir! I can vouch for _that_. The man was an awful brute. He struck
_me_ with his whip, and I don't believe Sadie told a story when she says
he beat her."
"I wish I'd been there," ejaculated Tom Cameron, in a low voice, "when
the scoundrel struck you, Ruth. I would have done something to him!"
"However," pursued Mr. Steele, "the girl is here now and near to
Darrowtown, which she says is her old home. We may find somebody there
who knew the Rabys. At any rate, they shall be cared for--I promise you."
"I know!" cried Ruth, suddenly. "If anybody will remember them, it's
Miss Pettis."
"Another of your queer friends, Ruth?" asked Madge, laughing.
"Why--Miss True Pettis isn't queer. But she knows about everybody who
lives in Darrowtown, or who ever did live there--and their histories from
away back!"
"A human encyclopedia," exclaimed Heavy.
"She's a lovely lady," said Ruth, quietly, "and she'll do anything to
help these unfortunate Rabys--be sure of that."
The late dinner was announced, and by that time the twins, as well as
Sadie, had become a little more used to their surroundings. Willie and
Dickie had been put into "spandy clean" overalls and shirts before Mrs.
Caslon would let them out of her hands. They were really pretty
children, in a delicate way, like their sister.
With so many about the long dining table, the meals at the Steele home
at this time were like a continuous picnic. There was so much talking
and laughter that Mr. and Mrs. Steele had to communicate with signs, for
the most part, from their stations at either end of the table, or else
they must send messages back and forth by one of the waitresses.
The twins and Sadie were down at Mrs. Steele's end of the table on this
occasion, with the girls all about them. Ruth and the others took a lot
more interest in keeping the orphans supplied with good things than they
did in their own plates.
That is, all but Heavy; of course _she_ wasted no time in heaping her
own plate. The twins were a little bashful at first; but it was plain
that Willie and Dickie had been taught some of the refinements of life
at the orphanage, as both had very good table manners.
They had to be tempted to eat, however, and finally Heavy offered to run
a race with them, declaring that she could eat as much as both of the
boys put together.
Dickie was just as silent in his sister's presence as usual, his
communications being generally in the form of monosyllables. But he was
faithful in echoing Willie's sentiments on any and every
occasion--noticeably at chicken time. The little fellows ate the
fricassee with appetite, but they refused the nice, rich gravy, in which
the cook had put macaroni. Mrs. Steele urged them to take gravy once or
twice, and finally Sadie considered that she should come to the rescue.
"What's the matter with you kids?" she demanded, hoarsely, in an attempt
to communicate with them aside. "Ye was glad 'nough to git chicken gravy
on Thanksgivin' at the orphanage--warn't ye?"
"Yes, I know, Sadie," returned Willie, wistfully. "But they never left
the windpipes in it--did they, Dickie?"
"Nope," responded Dickie, feelingly, likewise gazing at the macaroni
askance.
It set the table in a roar and finally Willie and Dickie were encouraged
to try some of the gravy, "windpipes" and all!
"They're all right," laughed Busy Izzy, greatly delighted. "They're
one--or two--of the seven wonders of the world----"
"Pooh!" interrupted Heavy, witheringly, "You don't even know what the
seven wonders of the world are."
"I can tell you one thing they're _not_," grinned Busy Izzy. "They're
not a baseball team, for there's not enough of them. Now will you be
good?"
Madge turned her head suddenly and ran right into Belle Tingley's elbow,
as Belle was reaching up to settle her hair-ribbon.
"Oh, oh! My eye! I believe you poked it out, Belle. You have _such_
sharp elbows," wailed Madge.
"You'll have to see Doc. Blodgett at Lumberton," advised Heavy, "and get
your eye tended to. He's a great old doctor----"
"Why, I didn't know he was an eye doctor," exclaimed Madge. "I thought
he was a chiropodist."
"He used to be," Heavy returned, with perfect seriousness. "He began at
the foot and worked up, you see."
Amid all the fun and hilarity, Mr. Steele called them to order. This was
at the dessert stage, and there were tall cones of parti-colored ice
cream before them, with great, heaping plates of cake.
"Can you give me a moment's attention, girls and boys?" asked their
host. "I want to speak about to-morrow."
"The 'great and glorious,'" murmured Heavy.
"We've all promised to be good, sir," said Tom. "No pistols, or
explosives, on the place."
"Only the cannon," interposed Bobbins. "You're going to let us salute
with _that_; eh, Pa?"
"I'm not sure that I shall," returned his father, "if you do not give me
your attention, and keep silent. We are determined to have a safe and
sane Fourth on Sunrise Farm. But at night we will set off a splendid lot
of fireworks that I bought last week----"
"Oh, fine, Pa! I do love fireworks," cried Madge.
"The girls are as bad as the boys, Mother," said Mr. Steele, shaking his
head. "What I wanted to say," he added, raising his voice, "was that we
ought to invite these little chaps--these brothers of Sadie Raby--to come
up at night to see our show."
"Oh, let's have all the fresh airs, Pa!" cried Madge, eagerly. "_What_ a
good time they'd have."
"I--don't--know," said her father, soberly, looking at his wife. "I am
afraid that will be too much for your mother."
"Mr. Caslon has some fireworks for the children," broke in Ruth,
timidly. "I happen to know that. And Tom was going down to buy ten
dollar's worth more to put with what Mr. Caslon has."
"Humph!" said Mr. Steele.
"You see, some of us thought we'd give the little folk a good time down
there, and it wouldn't bother you and Mrs. Steele, sir," Ruth hastened
to explain.
"Well, well!" exclaimed the gentleman, not very sharply after all, "if
those Caslons can stand the racket, I guess mother and I can--eh,
mother?"
"We need not have them in the house," said Mrs. Steele. "We can put
tables on the veranda, and give them ice cream and cake after the
fireworks. Get the men to hang Chinese lanterns, and so forth."
"Bully!" cried the younger Steeles, in chorus, and the visitors to
Sunrise Farm were quite delighted, too, with this suggestion.