NEALE HAS NEWS
Deep, and perhaps portentous, silence had succeeded the crash. But both
Ruth and Agnes knew enough of the goings and comings in the Corner House
not to take this silence for serenity. It meant something, as the crash
had.
"What was it?" murmured Ruth again, and she fairly ran out into the
hall, followed by her sister.
Then came a series of bumps, as if something of no small size was
rolling down the porch steps. By this time it was evident that the
racket came from without and not from within. Then a voice cried:
"Hold it! Hold it! Don't let it roll down!"
"That's Dot!" declared Ruth.
And then a despairing voice cried:
"I can't! I can't hold it! Look out!"
Once again the rumbling, rolling, bumping sound came, and with it was
mingled the warning of the Scotch housekeeper and the wail of Dot who
cried:
"Oh, she's dead! She's smashed!"
"Something really has happened this time!" exclaimed Ruth, and her face
became a little pale.
"If only it isn't serious," burst out Agnes. "Oh, dear, what those
youngsters don't think of for trouble!"
"They don't mean to get into trouble, Agnes. It's only their
thoughtlessness."
"Well then, they ought to think more. Oh, listen to that, will you!"
Agnes added, as another loud bumping reached the two sisters' ears.
"It's something that's sure," cried Ruth, and grew paler than ever.
The happening was not really as tragic as it seemed, yet it was
sufficiently momentous to cause a fright to the two older girls.
Especially to Ruth, who felt herself to be, as she literally was, a
mother to the other three; though now that Agnes was putting up her hair
and putting down her dresses a new element had come into the household.
While yet in tender years the responsibilities of life had fallen on the
shoulders of Ruth Kenway. In their former home--a city more pretentious
in many ways than picturesque Milton, their present home--the Kenways
had lived in what, literally, was a tenement house. Their father and
mother were dead, and the small pension granted Mr. Kenway, who had been
a soldier in the Spanish war, was hardly sufficient for the needs of
four growing girls.
Then, almost providentially, it seemed, the Stower estate had come to
Ruth, Agnes, Dot and Tess. Uncle Peter Stower had passed away, and Mr.
Howbridge, the administrator of the estate, had discovered the four
sisters as the next of kin, to use his legal phrase.
Uncle Peter Stower had lived for years in the "Corner House" as it was
called. The mansion stood opposite the Parade Ground in Milton, and
there Uncle Rufus, the colored servant of his crabbed master, had spent
so many years that he regarded himself as a fixture--as much so as the
roof.
At first no will could be found, though Mr. Howbridge recalled having
drawn one; but eventually all legal tangles were straightened out, and
the four sisters came to live in Milton, as related in the first book of
the series, entitled "The Corner House Girls."
There was Ruth, the oldest and the "little mother," though she was not
so very little now. In fact she had blossomed into a young lady, a fact
of which Mr. Howbridge became increasingly aware each day.
So the four girls had come to live at the Corner House, and that was
only the beginning of their adventures. In successive volumes are
related the happenings when they went to school, when they had a jolly
time under canvas, and when they took part in a school play.
The odd find made in the garret of the Corner House furnished material
for a book in itself and paved the way for a rather remarkable tour in
an auto.
In those days the Corner House girls became acquainted with a brother
and sister, Luke and Cecile Shepard. Luke was a college youth, and the
friendship between him and Ruth presently ripened into a deep regard for
each other. But Luke had to go back to college, so Ruth saw very little
of him, though the young folks corresponded freely.
All this was while the Corner House girls were "growing up." In fact, it
became necessary to tell of that in detail, so that the reason for many
things that happened in the book immediately preceding this, which is
called "The Corner House Girls Snowbound," could be understood.
In that volume the Corner House girls become involved in the mysterious
disappearance of two small twins, and after many exciting days spent in
the vicinity of a lumber camp a clue to the mystery was hit upon.
But now the memory of the blizzard days spent in the old Lodge were
forgotten. For summer had come, bringing with it new problems, not the
least of which was to find a place where vacation days might be spent.
Ruth proposed to speak of that when her guardian called this Saturday
afternoon. As she had hinted to Agnes, Ruth had invited a number of girl
friends to luncheon. It was the plan to form a sort of young people's
Civic Club, to take up several town matters, and Ruth was the moving
spirit in this, for she loved to work toward some definite end.
This Saturday was no exception in being a busy one at the Corner House.
In pursuance of her plans she had enlisted the whole household in
preparing for the event, from Mrs. MacCall, who looked after matters in
general, Linda, who helped with the baking, Uncle Rufus, who was
cleaning the lawn, down to Dot and Tess, who had been sent for flowers.
And then had come the bribing of Dot and Tess to go to the store and,
following that, the crash.
"What can it be?" murmured Ruth, as she and Agnes hastened on. "Some one
surely must be hurt."
"I hope not," half whispered Agnes.
From the side porch came the sound of childish anguish.
"She's all flatted out, that's what she is! She's all flatted out, my
Alice-doll is, and it's all your fault, Tess Kenway! Why didn't you hold
the barrel?"
"I couldn't, I told you! It just rolled and it rolled. It's a good thing
it didn't roll on Almira!"
"Gracious! did you hear that?" cried Agnes. "What can they have been
doing?"
The two older sisters reached the porch together, there to find Mrs.
MacCall holding to Tess, whom she was brushing off and murmuring to in a
low voice, filled with much Scotch burring.
Dot stood at the foot of the steps holding a rather crushed doll out at
arm's length, for all who would to view. And stalking off over the lawn
was Almira, the cat, carrying in her mouth a wee kitten. Uncle Rufus was
hobbling toward the scene of the excitement as fast as his rheumatism
would allow. Scattered on the ground at the foot of the steps was a
collection of odds and ends--"trash" Uncle Rufus called it. The trash
had come from an overturned barrel, and it was this barrel rolling down
the steps and off the porch that had caused the noise.
"What happened?" demanded Ruth, breathing more easily when she saw that
the casualty list was confined to the doll.
"It was Tess," declared Dot. "She tipped the barrel over and it rolled
on my Alice-doll and now look at her."
Dot referred to the doll, not to her sister, though Tess was rather a
sight, for she was covered with feathers from an old pillow that had
been thrown into the barrel and had burst open during the progress of
the accident.
At first Tess had been rather inclined to cry, but finding, to her great
relief, that she was unhurt, she changed her threatened tears into
laughter and said:
"Ain't I funny looking? Just like a duck!"
"What were you trying to do, children?" asked Ruth, trying to speak
rather severely in her capacity as "mother."
"I was trying to put Almira and one of her kittens into the barrel,"
explained Tess, now that Mrs. MacCall had got off most of the feathers.
"I leaned over to put Almira in the barrel, soft and easy like, down on
the other pillow, and it upset--I mean the barrel did. It began to roll,
and I couldn't stop it and it rolled right off the porch and--"
"Right over my Alice-doll it rolled, and she's all squashed!" voiced
Dot.
"Oh, be quiet! She isn't hurt a bit," cried Tess. "Her nose was flat,
anyhow."
"Did the barrel roll over you?" asked Agnes, smiling now.
"Almost," said Tess. "But I got out of the way in time, and Almira
grabbed up her kitten and ran. Where is she?" she asked.
"Never mind the cat," advised Ruth. "She's caused enough excitement for
one Saturday morning. Why were you putting her in the barrel, anyhow,
Tess?"
"So I'd know where she was when I came back. I wanted her and one kitten
to play with if Dot is going to play with her Alice-doll when we get
back from the store. But I guess I leaned too far over."
"I guess you did," assented Ruth. "Well, I'm glad it was no worse. Is
your doll much damaged, Dot?"
"Maybe I can put a little more sawdust or some rags in her and stuff her
out. But she's awful flat. And look at her nose!"
"Her nose was flat, anyhow, before the barrel rolled over her," said
Tess. "But I'm sorry it happened. I guess Almira was scared."
"We were all frightened," said Ruth. "It was a terrible racket. Now let
the poor cat alone, and run along to the store. Oh, what a mess this
is," and she looked at the refuse scattered from the trash barrel. "And
just when I want things to look nice for the girls. It always seems to
happen that way!"
Uncle Rufus shuffled along.
"Doan you-all worry now, honey," he said, speaking to all the girls as
one. "I'll clean up dish yeah trash in no time. I done got de lawn like
a billiard table, an' I'll pick up dish yeah trash. De ash man ought to
have been along early dis mawnin' fo' to get it. I set it dar fo' him."
That explained the presence on the side porch of the barrel of odds and
ends collected for the ash man to remove. He had not called, and seeing
the receptacle there, with an old feather pillow among the other refuse,
Tess thought she had her opportunity.
"Run along now, my bonny bairns! Run along!" counseled the old Scotch
woman. "'Tis late it's getting, and the lassies will be here to lunch
before we know it."
"Yes, do run along," begged Ruth. "And then come back to be washed and
have your hair combed. I want you to look nice if, accidentally, you
appear on the scene."
Thus bidden, and fortified with another cookie each, Tess and Dot
hurried on to the store, Dot tenderly trying to pinch into shape the
flattened nose of her Alice-doll.
Rufus got a broom and began to clean the scattered trash to put back
into the barrel, and Mrs. MacCall hurried into her kitchen, where Linda
was humming a Finnish song as she clattered amid the pots and pans.
"Oh, we must finish the parlor and library," declared Ruth. "Do come and
help, Agnes."
"Coming, Ruth. Oh, here's Neale!" she added, pausing to look toward the
gate through which at that moment appeared a sturdy lad of pleasant
countenance.
"He acts as though he had something on his mind," went on Agnes, as the
youth broke into a run on seeing her and her sister on the steps. "Wait
a moment, Ruth. He may have something to tell us."
"The fates forbid that it is anything more about Tess and Dot!" murmured
Ruth, for the children had some minutes before disappeared down the
street.
"News!" cried Neale O'Neil, as he swung up the steps. "I've got such
news for you! Oh, it's great!" and his face fairly shone.