The girls who had come to Sunrise Farm to visit at Madge Steele's
invitation, felt no little responsibility when it came to the
entertainment for the fresh air orphans. As The Fox said, with her usual
decision:
"Now that we've put Madge and her folks into this business, we'll just
have to back up their play, and make sure that the fresh airs don't tear
the place down. And that Sadie will have to keep an eye on the 'terrible
twins.' Is that right?"
"I've spoken to poor Sadie," said Ruth, with a sigh. "I am afraid that
Mrs. Steele is very much worried over what may occur to-night, while the
children are here. We'll have to be on the watch all the time."
"I should say!" exclaimed Heavy Stone. "Let's suggest to Mr. Steele that
he rope off a place out front where he is going to have the fireworks.
Some of those little rascals will want to help celebrate, the way Willie
and Dickie did," and the plump girl giggled ecstatically.
"'Twas no laughing matter, Jennie," complained Ruth, shaking her head.
"Well, that's all right," Lluella broke in. "If Tom hadn't bought the
fire-crackers--and that was right against Mr. Steele's advice----"
"Oh, here now!" interrupted Helen, loyal to her twin. "Tom wasn't any
more to blame than Bobbins. They were just bought for a joke."
"It was a joke all right," Belle said, laughing. "Who's going to pay for
the damage to the cart?"
"Now, let's not get to bickering," urged Ruth. "What's done, is done. We
must plan now to make the celebration this afternoon and evening as easy
for Mrs. Steele as possible."
This conversation went on after luncheon, while Bob and Tom had driven
down the hill with a big wagon to bring up the ten remaining orphans
from Mr. Caslon's place.
The gaily decorated wagon came in sight just about this time.
Fortunately the decorations Tom and Ruth had purchased that forenoon in
Darrowtown had not been destroyed when the fireworks went off in the
cart.
The girls from Briarwood Hall welcomed the fresh airs cheerfully and
took entire charge of the six little girls. The little boys did not wish
to play "girls' games" on the lawn, and therefore Bob and his chums
agreed to keep an eye on the youngsters, including the "terrible twins."
Sadie had been drafted to assist Madge and her mother, and some of the
maids, in preparing for the evening collation. Therefore the visitors
were divided for the time into two bands.
The girls from the orphanage were quiet enough and well behaved when
separated from their boy friends. Indeed, on the lawn and under the big
tent Mr. Steele had had erected, the celebration of a "safe and sane"
Fourth went on in a most commendable way.
It was a very hot afternoon, and after indulging in a ball game in the
field behind the stables, Bobbins, in a thoughtless moment, suggested a
swim. Half a mile away there was a pond in a hollow. The boys had been
there almost every day for a dip, and Bob's suggestion was hailed--even
by the usually thoughtful Tom Cameron--with satisfaction.
"What about the kids?" demanded Ralph Tingley.
"Let them come along," said Bobbins.
"Sure," urged Busy Izzy. "What harm can come to them? We'll keep our
eyes on them."
The twins and their small chums from the orphanage were eager to go to
the pond, too, and so expressed themselves. The half-mile walk through
the hot sun did not make them quail. They were proud to be allowed to
accompany the bigger boys to the swimming hole.
The little fellows raced along in their bare feet behind the bigger boys
and were pleased enough, until they reached the pond and learned that
they would only be allowed to go in wading, while the others slipped
into their bathing trunks and "went in all over."
"No! you can't go in," declared Bobbins, who put his foot down with
decision, having his own small brothers in mind. (They had been left
behind, by the way, to be dressed for the evening.)
"Say! the water won't wet us no more'n it does you--will it, Dickie?"
demanded the talkative twin.
"Nope," agreed his brother.
"Now, you kids keep your clothes on," said Bob, threateningly. "And
don't wade more than to your knees. If you get your overalls wet, you'll
hear about it. You know Mrs. Caslon fixed you all up for the afternoon
and told you to keep clean."
The smaller chaps were unhappy. That was plain. They paddled their dusty
feet in the water for a while, but the sight of the older lads diving
and swimming and having such a good time in the pond was a continual
temptation. The active minds of the terrible twins were soon at work.
Willie began to whisper to Dickie, and the latter nodded his head
solemnly.
"Say!" blurted out Willie, finally, as Bob and Tom were racing past them
in a boisterous game of "tag." "We wanter go back. This ain't no fun--is
it, Dickie?"
"Nope," said his twin.
"Go on back, if you want to. You know the path," said Bobbins,
breathlessly.
"We're goin', too," said one of the other fresh airs.
"We'd rather play with the girls than stay here. Hadn't we, Dickie?"
proposed Willie Raby.
"Yep," agreed Master Dickie, with due solemnity.
"Go on!" cried Bob. "And see you go straight back to the house. My!" he
added to Tom, "but those kids are a nuisance."
"Think we ought to let them go alone?" queried Tom, with some faint
doubt on the subject. "You reckon they'll be all right, Bobbins?"
"Great Scott! they sure know the way to the house," said Bob. "It's a
straight path."
But, as it happened, the twins had no idea of going straight to the
house. The pond was fed by a stream that ran in from the east. The
little fellows had seen this, and Willie's idea was to circle around
through the woods and find that stream. There they could go in bathing
like the bigger boys, "and nobody would ever know."
"Our heads will be wet," objected one of the orphans.
"Gee!" said Willie Raby, "don't let's wet our heads. We ain't got
to--have we?"
"Nope," said his brother, promptly.
There was some doubt, still, in the minds of the other boys.
"What you goin' to say to those folks up to the big house?" demanded one
of the fresh airs.
"Ain't goin' to say nothin'," declared the bold Willie. "Cause why? they
ain't goin' to know--'nless you fellers snitch."
"Aw, who's goin' to snitch?" cried the objector, angered at once by the
accusation of the worst crime in all the category of boyhood. "We ain't
no tattle-tales--are we, Jim?"
"Naw. We're as safe to hold our tongues as you an' yer brother are,
Willie Raby--so now!"
"Sure we are!" agreed the other orphans.
"Then come along," urged the talkative twin. "Nobody's got to know."
"Suppose yer sister finds it out?" sneered one.
"Aw--well--she jes' ain't go'n' ter," cried Willie, exasperated. "An' what
if she does? She runned away herself--didn't she?"
The spirit of restlessness was strong in the Raby nature, it was
evident. Willie was a born leader. The others trailed after him when he
left the pathway that led directly back to Sunrise Farm, and pushed into
the thicker wood in the direction he believed the stream lay.
The juvenile leader of the party did not know (how should he?) that just
above the pond the stream which fed it made a sharp turn. Its waters
came out of a deep gorge, lying in an entirely different direction from
that toward which the "terrible twins" and their chums were aiming.
The little fellows plodded on for a long time, and the sun dropped
suddenly behind the hills to the westward, and there they were--quite
surprisingly to themselves--in a strange and fast-darkening forest.