THE CURLYTOPS ADRIFT
Lucky it was for Trouble that Tod Everett, the foreman, caught the
sound of the moving machinery--the creaking of the log carriage and the
buzz of the big saw that was beginning to whine as if hungry to bite
into the log on which the little boy was riding.
And as soon as Tod heard the sound of the machinery he knew something
was wrong. One reason was because it was not yet time to start. Another
reason was that the engineer of the mill was standing right beside him,
talking about a new lot of logs that had been floated down the river
that day.
The two men looked at one another as the sound came to their ears, and
the foreman cried:
“Who’s running the mill for you, Zeb?”
“Nobody,” answered Zeb White, the engineer. “She isn’t supposed to be
runnin’!”
“Well, she _is_ running!” declared Tod.
“I believe you’re right!” cried the engineer. “But who could have
started her?”
Without another word the two men ran up the little hill, for they were
at the bottom of it and away from the mill, and could not look into the
place. But when they reached the top they could hear the rattle of the
moving carriage more plainly. They could hear the whine and hum of the
big saw.
And then they saw Trouble calmly sitting astride the log, playing it
was his horse, and, all the while, drawing nearer and nearer to the
sharp-toothed saw.
“Whew!” whistled the foreman. “That kid is in mischief again!”
“Do you reckon he started my engine?” cried Zeb.
Tod Everett did not answer. He sprang to catch Trouble off the log,
pulling him to one side rather roughly in his strong arms. At the same
time the engineer ran for the handle that shut off the power. He pulled
it quickly, with all his strength, and the saw slowly ceased buzzing,
while the log on the carriage no longer moved forward.
“Say, you little tyke!” cried Tod, for he was angry, “did you start the
machinery?”
“Yes, I did start it,” answered Trouble, hardly knowing whether to
laugh or cry. “What for you take me off my horsie?” he asked.
“Horsie? Say, you don’t want to ride this dangerous kind of horse
again!” cried the engineer. “That big saw might have cut you!”
He, too, spoke sternly, and Trouble decided that all fun had gone out
of the world. He began to cry. He cried hard, too.
By this time his mother, who had missed him, had come out in search of
him. It took her only a few moments to understand what had happened.
“Trouble, you are a naughty boy!” she said.
“I not naughty!” he sobbed. “I wanted a wide--a wide on my saw horsie!”
“Yes, you were bad,” went on his mother, with a grave face. “I told you
never to come to the mill alone, and you didn’t mind. I told you never
to touch a handle or anything, and you didn’t mind. You are a bad boy!”
Trouble sobbed again, looked from one to the other of the three stern
faces in a circle about him.
“Ye--yes, I--I _is_ a bad boy!” he admitted.
“And you must be whipped,” his mother told him.
I wish I did not have to write about this part of it, but I have
undertaken to tell you all about the Curlytops and Trouble, and I must
put in the bad with the good.
Trouble was whipped, and he cried hard. But this was better than crying
after being hurt by the saw, as might have happened. And the whipping
was the best way in the world to make Trouble remember never again to
go near the machinery alone.
“I’ll see that he never does such a thing again,” said Mrs. Martin.
“And I’ll never leave the mill alone again, with the power ready to be
turned on,” said the engineer.
So it all ended more happily than it might have, if the machinery had
not been stopped in time. And though the Curlytops felt sorry for their
little brother, it was not as bad as it might have been, for which they
were very thankful.
As a further punishment, and to make him remember not to do such a
thing again, Trouble was not allowed to go with Teddy and Janet the
next time they had a picnic in the woods.
They were always having picnics--sometimes two in one day. But they
enjoyed the tramps in the forest and they had no end of fun eating the
lunches they begged from their father in the camp store.
This time they went on a picnic the day after Trouble had had his
“wide,” as he called it, on the saw carriage. That is Ted and Janet
went, and William remained at home. He wanted to go, very much, but his
mother was firm, and though the Curlytops felt sad to hear their little
brother cry to come with them, they were old enough to know it was for
his own good that he must stay at home.
“What’ll we do?” asked Ted, as he and his sister walked through the
forest. Ted very often left it to Janet to suggest some form of fun.
“Let’s look for the tame crow,” proposed the little girl. “I’d like to
find him and take him back to Mr. Jenk.”
“So would I,” agreed Ted. “We’d get a lot of money then.”
“And the crow is in these woods,” went on Janet. “I’m sure we saw him
that time the woodpecker was tapping.”
“Yes, that was Mr. Jenk’s crow all right,” said her brother. “But how
can we catch him?”
Janet thought for a minute. Then she remembered something that had
happened back home.
“Oh, Ted!” she cried. “Cheese!”
“Cheese? What do you mean?” he asked.
“Don’t you remember how fond the Jim crow was of cheese?” went on
Janet. “Whenever he used to get away Mr. Jenk would go after him,
calling and holding out a bit of cheese. And Jim would fly down to get
the cheese and Mr. Jenk would catch him.”
“Oh, yes!” cried Teddy. “And then he’d make believe pull corks. I mean
the crow would,” he added, though Janet understood.
“Let’s go back to daddy’s store and get some cheese,” proposed Janet.
She called it “daddy’s store,” though Mr. Martin did not own it and had
only been engaged to start it going. But the children always thought of
the camp store as they did of the one in Cresco, as belonging to their
father.
“Yes, we’ll make a cheese trap,” agreed Ted.
Mr. Martin was not in the store when they trudged back, but one of the
clerks gave them what they wanted.
“Don’t eat too much cheese,” he warned them. “It isn’t good for
Curlytops.”
“Oh we’re not going to eat it,” said Janet.
“It’s for the lame, tame crow,” added Ted.
“What in the world are those kiddies up to now, I wonder,” said one
clerk to another. “Talking about a lame, tame crow, and taking him out
some cheese!”
“Don’t ask me,” chuckled his companion. “They do more things in a day
than I could think of in a week. And that small chap--the one they call
Trouble--say, he’s a _tyke_!”
“He certainly is. Well, I only hope they won’t get sick eating the
cheese, and have Mr. Martin blame me for giving it to them.”
However, Ted and Janet had no idea of eating the cheese, though they
liked a little nibble now and then. But this cheese was for the lame,
tame crow they were sure they had seen in the woods. They were quite
certain it was Mr. Jenk’s black pet and they hoped to get the ten
dollars reward.
But the woods at Mount Major and around their camp were wide and long,
and though the children did not know it, hunting for a certain crow in
them was like looking for a needle in the haystack.
On and on through the woods tramped the Curlytops. It was a pleasant
day and it was early, for they had set off on their picnic soon after
dinner. They had with them some lunch for themselves and the cheese for
the crow--if they should happen to find Jim.
Every now and then they would stop and listen, and often they heard the
distant cawing of crows. But this was what happened every day in the
woods. There were many crows.
“And they all sound alike when they caw,” said Ted.
“Yes, but Jim crow can pop corks, and no other crow can do that,” said
Janet. “And he can stand on one leg in such a funny way.”
“Yes,” admitted her brother, “if we hear a cork popping we’ll know it’s
Jim.”
But they heard nothing like this as they wandered on through the
woods. Sometimes they even caught glimpses of crows flying overhead,
but these black birds did not come down low enough to see the pieces
of cheese which the Curlytops held out to them, hoping that one of the
crows might be Mr. Jenk’s Jim.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Janet after a while. “I guess we’ll never find that
crow. It’s like mother’s diamond locket that I lost. I guess it’s gone
forever.”
“Maybe the locket is,” agreed Ted. “But we’ve seen the crow, so we know
he’s somewhere around here.”
“But where?” asked his sister.
And Ted could not answer.
Still they did not give up. They had come to the woods to spend the
afternoon. They could eat about three o’clock when they usually got
hungry, and they might as well hunt for Jim as do anything else or play
any of their pretend games.
“I’m tired,” said Janet, after a bit. “Let’s sit down and rest.”
“And eat,” added Teddy. He was nearly always ready to do the latter.
So the children sat down on a mossy log in the pleasant shade of the
forest and opened the little boxes of lunch they had obtained in the
store.
“Before we eat we’ll spread out some of the cheese,” said Janet. “Maybe
Jim will smell it and fly down.”
Teddy thought this would be all right, so they put some bits of cheese
on a flat stump not far from where they sat down to eat their own lunch.
As they ate they kept an anxious watch, and also listened closely for
any sound of cawing in the air overhead. But, for some reason or other,
the crows, perhaps Jim with them, had flown away for the time being.
“Well, I guess there’s no crow here,” said Janet after a while, as she
stood up and brushed the crumbs from her lap. “Let’s go on.”
“All right,” agreed Ted. “But we’ll leave some of the cheese here, and
when we come back we’ll look again for Jim.”
“Maybe if we tapped on a tree like the woodpecker did, Jim would hear
it and come to us,” suggested Janet.
“Maybe,” her brother said. “Let’s try it.”
With sticks the children tapped on trees, making a noise as nearly like
the sound of a woodpecker as they could manage. But this brought to
them no tame crow, and, indeed, no wild one, either.
“Well, let’s go on,” said Teddy.
Part of the cheese was left on the flat stump where they had spread it
as bait. The remainder they picked up and took with them farther into
the woods. They were having fun, even if they didn’t find the lame,
tame crow.
After a little while the Curlytops came to an open place in the forest.
Across it they saw water gleaming in the sun.
“Oh, there’s the lake!” cried Ted. “I didn’t know it came up this way.”
The lake was of odd shape, and parts of it, like the arms of an
octopus, stretched out into different parts of the woods.
“I’m going in wading!” cried Ted.
“So will I!” added Janet.
They took off their shoes and stockings and splashed about in the
clean, warm water of the lake near shore. Then Ted discovered a boat
hidden in the bushes on shore.
“Oh, let’s have a ride!” he called to Janet.
“There aren’t any oars,” she objected, as Ted pulled the boat out so he
could get in.
“That’s nothing,” he said. “We can take poles and push ourselves
around. Come on, I’ll be captain! We’ll have lots of fun!”
Janet was always ready for fun.
“We must take our shoes and stockings,” she said. “If we leave ’em here
somebody might steal ’em.”
“Yes, we’ll take ’em in the boat, and the lunch, too,” her brother
agreed.
They quickly put their things in the old scow, for that is all the boat
was, and then, having found some poles in the woods, the Curlytops
pushed out from shore.
Soon they were adrift, moving slowly along the beach, first Ted and
then Janet pushing with their poles to keep the boat moving. It was
warm and pleasant out on the lake, and the Curlytops thought they were
having fine fun.
“Let’s go out a little farther,” proposed Ted.
“I’m afraid,” confessed Janet.
“Oh, we can easily pole ourselves back,” said Ted.
So they went out a little farther. They were more than a hundred feet
from shore when Janet suddenly gave a cry.
“What’s the matter?” called Ted.
“I lost my push-pole!” his sister answered.
“I’ll get it for you,” Ted offered.
He pushed the boat toward his sister’s floating pole, but, in doing so,
lost hold of his own.
“Now mine’s gone!” he cried.
Then the wind suddenly blew, sending the boat farther away from the two
poles. They now had no means of moving the boat unless they paddled
with their hands. Ted tried this, but could not make the craft come any
nearer the drifting poles.
“Oh, how far out we are from shore!” cried Janet. “Let’s go back, Ted.”
Ted tried, but it was of no use. The wind was blowing them farther and
farther out into the lake.