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TABITHA'S VACATION
Volume III in the Ivy Hall Series
by
RUTH ALBERTA BROWN
Author of "Tabitha at Ivy Hall," "Tabitha's Glory," "At the Little
Brown House," Etc.
[Frontispiece: "I hope," panted Tabitha, trotting along at the rear of
the procession, "that you don't have your fun in such a hurry."]
The Saalfield Publishing Company
Chicago, ---- Akron, Ohio ---- New York
Made in U. S. A.
Copyright, MCMXIII
By the Saalfield Publishing Company
CONTENTS
I. The McKittricks' Misfortune
II. Tabitha and Gloriana, Housekeepers
III. Unwelcome Guests
IV. Mischief Makers
V. Irene's Song
VI. Gloriana's Burglars
VII. Toady and the Castor Beans
VIII. Billiard Runs Away
IX. Billiard Surrenders
X. Susanne Entertains a Caller
XI. In the Canyon
XII. The Bank of Silver Bow is Robbed
XIII. The Robbers and the Haunted House
XIV. The Unexpected Happens
XV. Myra's Climax
ILLUSTRATIONS
"I hope," panted Tabitha, trotting along at the rear of the procession,
"that you don't have your fun in such a hurry." . . . _Frontispiece_
TABITHA'S VACATION
CHAPTER I
THE MCKITTRICKS' MISFORTUNE
"'Ho, ho, vacation days are here,
We welcome them with right good cheer;
In wisdom's halls we love to be,
But yet 'tis pleasant to be free,'"
warbled Tabitha Catt, pausing on the doorstep of her little desert home
as she vigorously shook a dingy dusting cloth, and hungrily sniffed the
fresh, sweet morning air, for, although the first week of June was
already gone, the fierce heat of the summer had not yet descended upon
Silver Bow, nestling in its cup-like hollow among the Nevada mountains.
"'Ho, ho, the hours will quickly fly,
And soon vacation time be by;
Ah, then we'll all in glad refrain,
Sing welcome to our school again.'"
piped up a sweet voice in muffled accents from the depths of the closet
where the singer was rummaging to find hooks for her wardrobe, which
lay scattered rather promiscuously about Tabitha's tiny bedroom.
"Why, Gloriana Holliday, where did you learn that?" demanded the girl
on the threshold, abruptly ceasing her song. "It's as old as the
hills. Mrs. Carson used to sing it when she went to school."
"So did my mother. I've got her old music book with the words in it,"
responded her companion, emerging from the dark closet, flushed but
triumphant. "There! I've hung up the last dud I could find room for.
The rest must go back in the trunk, I guess. My, but it does seem nice
to have a few weeks of vacation, doesn't it?"
"One wouldn't think so to hear you carolling about school's beginning
again," laughed Tabitha, shaking her finger reprovingly at the
red-haired girl now busily collecting the remainder of her scattered
property and bundling it into a half-empty trunk just outside the
kitchen door.
Gloriana echoed the laugh, and then answered seriously, "But really, I
have never been glad before to see vacation come. It always meant only
hard work and worry, gathering fruit in the hot sun or digging
vegetables and peddling them around from door to door; while school
meant books and lessons and a chance to rest a bit, and the last two
years it meant Miss Angus, who did not mind my red hair and crutches."
"But it is all different now," Tabitha interrupted hastily, shuddering
at the gloomy picture her companion's words had called up. "You are my
sister now, and there won't be any more goats and gardens to bother
about. You have left off using one crutch altogether, and don't need
the other except out of doors. We are going to have a lovely vacation,
and you won't want school to begin at all in September."
"Yes, it is all different now, Kitty Catt, thanks to dear old you!"
agreed the younger girl, giving the slender figure in the doorway an
affectionate hug. "And I suppose I shall be as daffy about this queer
desert place as you are by the time Ivy Hall opens its doors again----"
"Aha!" triumphed Tabitha. "Then you don't like it now, do you? I
never could get you to admit it last winter."
"I haven't admitted it yet," Gloriana retorted spiritedly. "It looks
so much different in the summer time, but still seems queer to me with
its heaps of rocks and no trees except the stiff old Joshuas. I wonder
why they are called that. Even they don't seem like trees to me. They
look like giant cactus plants, and just as cruel."
"They have beautiful blossoms," Tabitha interrupted. "We are a little
too late to see them, though many of the other desert flowers are still
in bloom. Look across that stretch beyond the river road. Isn't it
pretty with its red and yellow carpet? May is the month to see the
desert in its glory, though. _Then_ it is truly beautiful. _No_ one
could think it ugly. But come, let's run over to Mercy's house. We
have swept and dusted, and you have finished unpacking. This is our
second day at home and I haven't been near to inquire how Mr.
McKittrick is. He was hurt before Christmas, so we never went there
during the holidays, you remember."
"Where do they live?"
"Why, I showed you the place--that queer brown house perched up-----"
"Oh, yes, on that great shelf of rock, overlooking the railway station."
"The first house we see on our way up here from the depot. Mr.
McKittrick always called it the Eagles' Nest, and his children the
eaglets."
"What a pretty idea! How many eaglets are there besides Mercedes and
the little boy you named?"
"Four other girls. Mercy is the oldest of the family. Then come
Susanne, or Susie, as they call her; the twins, Inez and Irene; Rosslyn
and the baby, Janie."
"That's quite a family. What nice times they must have together!"
sighed Gloriana wistfully, thinking of her own orphaned life with no
brothers or sisters with whom to make merry.
"Yes, I reckon they are a pretty lively bunch sometimes, for Susie is
as wild as Mercedes is quiet; and Inez should have been her twin
instead of Irene's. Janie is a regular little mischief, too, but such
a darling! You are sure to love her, though Rosslyn is my favorite.
Put on your hat and let's go down before dinner. Daddy won't be home
until evening, and there is nothing to keep us here."
Seizing her sunbonnet from its peg by the door, Tabitha started up the
path toward town with Gloriana hobbling along at her side, when they
saw Mercedes, with roguish Janie and chubby Rosslyn in tow, coming down
the slope toward them. Her round, serious eyes looked heavy and
worried, her childish face pale and frightened; but at sight of the two
approaching figures, a smile of relief suddenly curved the drooping
lips, and she exclaimed eagerly, "Oh, girls, I was just going for you!
Are you on the way to our house? Oh, please say yes! Something
dreadful has happened, I'm sure, for mamma has sent us all out-doors,
and is in the kitchen crying fit to kill. She won't say what's the
matter, and I'm horribly scared. I never saw her cry before."
Tabitha's face paled instantly. "I wonder--" she began, then stopped.
How could she put her thought into words when Mercedes was already so
dreadfully frightened? "Has the doctor been to see your father this
morning?" she asked.
"Yes. He stayed ever so long and talked to mamma in the kitchen. I am
afraid papa is worse, for 'twas right after the doctor was gone that
she began to cry so hard."
Tabitha turned to Gloriana. "I'll run on ahead," she said, "if you
don't mind. You can follow more slowly with Mercedes. I--perhaps it
would be better if I saw Mrs. McKittrick alone first."
"All right," agreed Glory, who, like Tabitha, was wondering if the
message the doctor had delivered in the Eagles' Nest that morning had
left the little mother without a ray of hope; and so she fell in step
beside the anxious Mercedes, and began to chat in spritely, diverting
tones while Tabitha sped swiftly up the narrow, winding path to the
lonely-looking, little, brown house perched on the steep mountainside.
Arriving at the door breathless and panting, she hesitated a moment
before knocking, suddenly aware that she had not the slightest idea of
what she intended to say or do. A glimpse through the screen of a
huddled figure bowed despairingly over the kitchen table drove every
other thought from her mind, however, and flinging open the door, she
ran lightly across the room and impulsively laid her hand upon the
quivering shoulders.
"Mercedes, must I tell you again--" began the muffled voice of the
distracted woman, as she impatiently shook off the hand resting on her
arm.
"It isn't Mercedes," Tabitha interrupted. "It is I--Tabitha. I don't
know what is the matter, but if you will tell me, perhaps I can be of
some use, even if I am only a girl."
Mrs. McKittrick lifted a red, swollen face from her arms outstretched
on the table, glanced in surprise at the black-eyed girl bending so
sympathetically above her, and once more burst into a flood of tears,
sobbing wildly, "It ain't any use, Tabitha! You couldn't help if you
was a woman grown. No one can help. The doctor says--" The choking
words died on her lips. She could not bear to repeat the doctor's
verdict.
"That Mr. McKittrick is worse?" whispered Tabitha.
The bowed head nodded despairingly.
"Surely he isn't going to----"
"Die?" cried the woman wildly. "Yes, he must die unless we can get him
out of here. The only hope is an operation. That means Los Angeles, a
hospital, a nurse, and hundreds of dollars; and not a cent coming in
from anywhere. The children are too young to earn, and I can't work
with him to nurse and six youngsters to care for. Oh, it does seem as
if troubles never come singly! Whatever we are going to do is more
than I know. The whole world has turned upside down!"
Gravely Tabitha nodded her head. Only a year before as she had stood
beside the bed of her father, fighting what seemed like a hopeless
battle with death, she, too, had felt that despairing helplessness.
"If only Dr. Vane were here!" she whispered fervently.
"I don't believe he could do a bit more for the man than Dr. Hayes is
doing. He'd just say the same thing, and there wouldn't be any more
money than there is now to carry out his orders."
In vain Tabitha sought to comfort and cheer the despondent soul, but
seemed only to make matters worse, and at length, disheartened at her
apparent failure, she stole away from the brown house on the bluff, and
with Gloriana following silently at her heels, set out for home. Not a
word passed between them as they hastened down the main street of the
town, until, just as they reached the dingy telegraph station, the
sound of the busy, clattering key caused Tabitha to halt abruptly and a
gleam of determination to flash over her sober, worried face.
"That's what!" she exclaimed joyfully. "I'll do it! Mr. Carson will
fix everything. 'Twas in his mine that McKittrick was hurt."
"What do you mean? Where are you going?" asked bewildered Gloriana,
unable to follow Tabitha's thoughts, and wondering what errand was
taking her into the low, dimly lighted shack from which issued the
monotonous, nervous, clicking sound which had attracted Tabitha's
attention.
"To telegraph Mr. Carson. If he knew how badly off Mr. McKittrick is,
he would send him inside in a minute."
"Inside?"
"To Los Angeles, I mean. People here on the desert call that 'inside,'
though I never could see why. Please, Mr. Goodwin, give me a blank. I
want to send a telegram."
The man behind the counter supplied her with the necessary materials,
and stood waiting curiously for the message to be written. But another
idea had occurred to Tabitha, and turning away from the operator with
the blank in her hand, she whispered to Gloriana in dismay, "I don't
dare telegraph. Mr. Goodwin is a worse gossip than any old maid I ever
knew, and he'd tell it all over town before noon!"
"Then write a letter."
"It takes nearly a week for mail to travel that far. It might be too
late by--I've got it! How will this do?"
Rapidly she scribbled a few hasty words on the slip in her hands and
passed it to Gloriana, who read in amazement this queer scrawl:
"Wire five hundred silver headed eagles. Must get rich quick. Ask
Carrie to translate. Letter follows.
Tabitha Catt."
"That is more than ten words, but I can't help it. I'm willing to pay
for it if it does the work."
"But, Kitty, what does it mean?" asked mystified Gloriana, privately
thinking it the silliest piece of nonsense she had ever heard of.
"Will he know what you want?"
"Carrie will. We used to write notes to each other in cipher when we
were little. _We_ called it cipher. Of course it was all utter
nonsense, but I am sure she will remember."
"It doesn't sound--sensible--to me," Gloriana confessed. "I suppose
five hundred silver headed eagles means five hundred dollars, but what
is that about getting rich?"
Tabitha laughed gleefully. "Rosslyn McKittrick was a long time
learning to say his own name when he was a baby," she explained. "As
near as he could get it, 'twas 'Russ Getrich.' Mr. Carson was
superintendent of the Silver Legion then, instead of one of the owners,
and as Mr. McKittrick was working there when Rosslyn was born, the
miners made him their mascot, and Mr. Carson used to tease him by
calling him 'Must get rich quick.' I couldn't write 'McKittrick' in
the telegram without Goodwin suspecting what I am up to; so I did the
next best thing I could think of."
"But--" It all still seemed so ridiculous to the red-haired girl.
"You think he will wonder if I am crazy?" Tabitha had read the look of
doubt in her companion's face, and correctly surmised what she was
thinking. "Perhaps he will, but I don't believe so. He is quick to
understand things. Now we will skip back to the post-office and I'll
scratch him a letter of explanation, so it will go out with to-day's
mail. Then if he shouldn't translate the telegram correctly--well, the
letter will get there as soon as possible afterward."
As she spoke, she delivered the written message to the waiting
operator, smiled with satisfaction at his look of baffled curiosity and
bewilderment, and assuring him that it was worded exactly as she wanted
it sent, she left the dingy office confident that the queer cipher
would bring the desired results. Nor was she mistaken.
Early the next morning Mercedes came flying excitedly down the path to
the Catt cottage, and, without the formality of knocking, burst into
the kitchen where the two girls were busy washing up the breakfast
dishes.
"Oh, Kitty! Gloriana!" she cried, half laughing, half sobbing with
sheer delight. "Guess what's happened! Mr. Carson has sent mamma some
money to take papa to Los Angeles. Now he can get well. That is what
has been worrying her so much. The doctor said he would die unless he
was operated on and mamma hadn't the money to get it done. They are to
start to-morrow. Mamma's going, too. Doctor says every minute counts,
and he has telegraphed to the hospital to make arrangements already."
She paused, all out of breath, to mop her steaming forehead; and
Tabitha, studying the flushed, shining face, wondered that she had ever
thought Mercedes McKittrick dull and homely.
"Isn't that fine?" she heard Gloriana saying, as heartily as if she had
not known anything about the telegram before. "What are the rest of
you going to do while your mother is away? You children, I mean."
"That's how I happened to come here," Mercedes replied, her eyes losing
some of their glow as she recalled her errand in that part of the town.
"Mamma sent me down to Miss Davis' house with a note, but she isn't
there; and the woman next door says she has gone to Riverside for two
weeks. I s'pose we'll have to find someone else instead. But I was so
near I couldn't help running on down to tell the news. I must be going
now. There is lots to be done before train time to-morrow, and
mamma'll need me."
"We will come up and help her pack as soon as we get the house
righted," Tabitha found tongue to say. "She mustn't get too tired
before she starts."
So Mercedes raced away again, and a few moments later the two busy
little housekeepers in the hollow locked up their orderly cottage and
followed more slowly up to the Eagles' Nest on the bluff.
"Where can the children be?" Tabitha's expectant eyes searched in vain
for a glimpse of the noisy, lively brood of 'eaglets,' who usually saw
her coming a long way off, and met her half-way down the mountainside
with a boisterous shout of welcome. To-day, however, not one of the
sextette was in sight about the queer little brown house, and the whole
place wore a deserted air.
"Maybe they have gone visiting so Mrs. McKittrick can look after her
packing unmolested," suggested Gloriana, letting her keen gray eyes
sweep the steep, rocky incline for some sign of the youthful
McKittricks, but with no better result.
"That must be it," concluded Tabitha, "though I should have
thought--why, Mercedes, Susie! What _is_ the matter?"
Coming suddenly around the corner of a huge boulder where the children
often played house, the two girls almost tumbled over a row of the most
woe-begone, utterly miserable looking figures they had ever
seen,--Mercedes, Susie, Inez, Irene, Rosslyn and Janie, all seated on a
broad, flat rock as stiff as marble statues, and with faces almost as
stony and staring.
"Why, children!" echoed Gloriana, equally amazed. "What are you doing
here? What has happened?"
"Mamma is crying again," whispered Mercedes, dabbing savagely at a tear
which suddenly brimmed over and splashed down the end of her nose.
"She says she won't go and leave us alone with Mercy," gulped Susanne,
striving hard to keep the telltale quiver out of her voice.
"And there ain't money enough to go and take us all," supplemented
Inez, who had earned the title of "Susie's shadow," because she
preferred the society of her older sister to that of her quiet twin.
"Miss Davis has gone away and won't be back until it's too late,"
mourned gentle Irene, gazing sorrowfully down toward the low station
house on the flats below.
"Mrs. Goodale's gone, too, and there ain't nobody else to housekeep for
us," Rosslyn added plaintively, "'cept Mercy."
"But we'd be ist as dood as anjils wiv Mercy," lisped little Janie
dejectedly, seeming to comprehend the tragedy of the situation as well
as did the older children.
Slowly Tabitha turned toward her companion. Gloriana's gray eyes
bravely met the questioning glance of the black ones. "Would your
father----"
"_Our_ father," Tabitha mechanically corrected her.
"Our father let you--us, I mean?"
"All summer, if he thought we wanted to; but it won't be that long."
"Only two weeks."
"Until Miss Davis gets back--or Mrs. Goodale."
"Do you think Mrs. McKittrick would leave the----"
"I don't know," confessed the older girl in worried accents. "It's a
chance for him. I believe she'll take it. I'm sure we are old enough."
"And know enough about keeping house."
"They would be perfectly safe with us two."
"Supposing we ask her."
Impulsively, Tabitha started for the house with Gloriana at her heels;
and the children, though not understanding the drift of the
conversation they had just overheard, fell in behind the two, and
marched in solemn procession up the path, feeling sure that something
was about to happen which would clear away the heavy cloud of despair
hovering over their household.
Again Mrs. McKittrick was sitting beside the battered kitchen table
with her head on her arms as they had found her the day before, but
this time Tabitha did not hesitate. Breathlessly, excitedly, she
began, almost before she was inside the house:
"Oh, Mrs. McKittrick, Mercy has told us all about it--how Miss Davis
and Mrs. Goodale are away and you can't find anyone to leave the
children with. But you mustn't stay here on that account! Glory and I
will take charge of the house. Really, we know how to cook and can
manage splendidly, I'm sure, if you will let us try. Miss Davis will
soon be back and then she can look after everything. Two weeks isn't
very long. No harm can come to us in that time, I know. We'd love to
do it. Say you will go. It means so much to you----"
She had not intended to say just that, but misreading the look of
wondering surprise in the tear-stained face lifted to hers, she
blundered, hesitated, and stood silent and distressed in the middle of
the floor, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, and looking so
much like the frank, outspoken, bungling Tabitha of old, that Mrs.
McKittrick could not refrain from laughing. It was an odd, hysterical,
little laugh, to be sure, more pathetic than mirthful, but it relieved
the sharp tension of the situation; and Gloriana, quick to take
advantage of auspicious moments, broke in, "All you need to do is to
say yes. We will be model housekeepers and take the best of care of
the family."
"But--but--what about your father? He won't listen to such a plan, I'm
sure."
"Now, don't you fret about that!" cried Tabitha joyfully, regarding the
battle as good as won. "Daddy won't care a mite! Two weeks is such a
little time. He will be glad to have us come."
"I believe--I better--take Janie. She is so small, and----"
"I believe you better not!" the black-eyed girl laughingly retorted.
"She would be dreadfully in your way, no matter how good she is; and
you want to be free to take care of your--patient. Now, where is your
trunk? What clothes do you need to take? If you will tell us where to
find things, we will begin to pack at once while you are getting the
house settled the way you want to leave it, and writing out your
orders."
"'Cause we'll be ist as dood as anjils," lisped Janie, as the
procession, at a signal from Mercedes, quietly trooped forth into the
June sunshine once more, and, with radiant faces and happy hearts,
skipped down to their boulder playhouse to celebrate.