The Lost Is Found
Two days passed and still the Bucknor clan was in ignorance of the
whereabouts of Cousin Ann. It had so happened that Judith had been
busy at home and had not gone into Ryeville for several days and
nobody had called at her home, although since the famous debut party
the Bucks had many more visitors than formerly.
Cousin Ann could not have concealed herself from the world more
effectually had she tried. Concealment was far from her thoughts,
however. She had no idea that a hue and cry would be raised for her.
The Fates, in the shapes of Billy, Cupid and Puck, had taken her
destiny in hand and landed her with this golden girl, who wanted her
and loved her and petted her and made her feel at home. Here she would
stay. How long? She would not let herself dwell on that subject.
What the rest of the family would think of her claiming kin with the
hitherto impossible Bucks made little difference to the old lady. She
determined never to divulge that old Billy had engineered the visit,
but intended, when the question came up with her kinsmen, to let it be
understood that she, Ann Peyton, had ruled that Judith Buck belonged
to the family and had as good a right to the name of Bucknor as any
person bearing the name.
The old men of Ryeville were seated in tilted chairs on the hotel
porch. The little touch of autumn in the air made it rather pleasant
when the sun sought out their feet resting on the railing.
"What's this I hear about the disappearance of Miss Ann Peyton?" asked
Major Fitch. "Someone told me that she has not been heard of now for
several days and Bob Bucknor is just about having a fit over it. He
and Big Josh are scouring the country for her, after having burnt up
all the telephone wires in the county trying to locate her."
"It's true," chuckled Colonel Crutcher. "My granddaughter says Mildred
Bucknor is raising a rumpus because her father is saying he can't go
abroad until Cousin Ann is found. First, he can't go because the old
lady is visiting him and now he can't go because she isn't visiting
him."
"Well, a big, old ramshackledy rockaway like Miss Ann's, with a pair
of horses fat enough to eat and the bow-leggedest coachman in
Kentucky, to say nothing of Miss Ann herself with her puffy red wig
and hoop skirts as wide as a barn door, couldn't disappear in a rat
hole. They must be somewhere and they must have gone along the road to
get where they were going. Certainly they haven't passed this way or
we'd have seen them," said Judge Middleton.
"I hear tell Bob Bucknor has sent for Jeff to come and advise him,"
drawled Pete Barnes. "And I also hear tell that the Bucknor men were
gettin' ready to let poor ol' Miss Ann know that she was due to settle
herself in an ol' ladies' home. They were cookin' it up that day they
all had dinner here last week."
"Yes, and what's more, I hear our Judy gal knocked that Tom Harbison
down the hill with a milk bucket," laughed Pete. "I got it straight
from Big Josh himself."
So the old men gossiped, basking in the autumn sunshine. They still
quarreled over the outcome of the war between the states, but now they
had a fresh topic of never-ending interest to discuss and that was
their own debut party. Congratulations were ever in order on their
extreme cleverness in giving the ball.
Pete Barnes was ever declaring, "It was my idee, though, my idee! And
didn't we launch our little girl, though? I hear tell she is going to
be asked to join the girls' club. That's a secret. I believe the girls
are going to wait until Mildred and Nan Bucknor are on the rolling
deep. As for the young men--they are worse than bears about a bee
tree. Judy won't have much to do with them though. But you needn't
tell me she doesn't like it."
"Sure she does. She's too healthy-minded not to like beaux. There she
comes now! I can see her car way up the street--just a blue speck,"
cried Judge Middleton.
"Sure enough! There she is! She's got her mother in with her."
"That's not Mrs. Buck. Mrs. Buck always sits in Judy's car as though
she were scared to death--and she hasn't white hair either."
"Hi, Miss Judy!"
"Hi, yourself!" and Judith stopped her car in front of the hotel.
"Boys, that's Miss Ann Peyton!" cried Major Fitch. "Miss Ann or I'll
eat my hat!"
"She's already eaten her wig. No wonder we didn't know her! And she's
left off her hoops!" cried the Judge.
The old men removed their feet from railing, dropped their chairs to
all fours, sprang up and, standing in a row, made a low bow to the
occupants of the little blue car. Then they trooped off the porch and
gathered in a circle around the ladies.
"The last I heard of you, Miss Ann, was that you were lost," said
Judge Middleton.
"Not a bit of it," declared Judith. "She is found."
"Yes--and I think I've found myself, too," said Miss Ann softly. "I am
visiting my dear young cousin, Judith Buck."
"At my urgent invitation," explained Judith.
"I am staying on at her invitation, but I followed my usual habit and
went uninvited," said the old lady firmly.
The old men listened in amazement. What was this? Miss Ann Peyton
openly claiming relationship with old Dick Buck's granddaughter and
riding around--minus wig and hoops--with the new-found cousin in a
home-made blue car! Miss Ann was meek but happy.
"Well, I swan!" exclaimed Pete Barnes.
"What do you suppose he meant by saying they thought you were lost?"
Judith asked on the way home from Ryeville. "Didn't they know you were
coming to me?"
"No," faltered Miss Ann. "I seldom divulge where I intend to visit
next. That is my affair," she added with a touch of her former
hauteur--a manner she had discarded with the wig and hoop skirt. Wild
horses could not drag from her the fact that she had not known herself
where she was going.
"That's all right, Cousin Ann, but if you ever get tired of staying at
my house I am going to be hurt beyond measure if you go off without
telling me where you are going. Promise me you'll never treat me that
way."
"I promise. I have never told the others because it has never made any
difference to them."
When the blue car disappeared up the street the old men of Ryeville
went into conference.
"Don't that beat bobtail?"
"Do you fellows realize that means our gal is recognized for good and
all? Miss Ann may be played out as a visitor with her kinfolks, but
she's still head forester of the family tree," said Judge Middleton.
"Don't you reckon we'd better 'phone Buck Hill or Big Josh or some of
the family that Miss Ann is found?" asked Pete Barnes.
"No, let's let 'em worry a while longer. They've been kinder careless
of Miss Ann to have mislaid her, and mighty snobbish with our gal not
to have claimed kin with her long ago. My advice is let 'em worry, let
'em worry," decreed Major Fitch.
Miss Ann wasn't lost very long, however. That same evening, when
Judith made her daily trip to the trolley stop with the men's dinner,
Jefferson Bucknor stepped from the rear platform of the six-thirty.
"In time to carry your 'empties' for you," he said, shaking Judith's
hand with a warmth that his casual greeting did not warrant. Judith
surrendered the basket, but held on to the empty milk can.
"Your trusty weapon," said Jeff, and they both laughed. "Have you
knocked anybody down lately?" the young man asked.
"Not many, but I am always prepared with my milk can. It is a deadly
weapon, with or without buttermilk."
"I wonder if you are anywhere near so glad to see me as I am to see
you. I have been sticking to business and trying to make believe that
Louisville is as nice as Ryeville, and Louisville girls are as
beautiful as they are reputed to be, and that the law is the most
interesting thing in the world, but somehow I can't fool myself. Are
you glad to see me?"
"Of course," said Judith.
"I wish you wouldn't swing that milk can so vigorously. I think a
cousin might be allowed to ask if you are glad to see him without
being in danger of having to take the same medicine Tom Harbison had
to swallow. I've come home on a rather sad mission, in a way, and
still I wanted to see my little cousin so much I can't help making a
kind of lark of it. I am really worried very much, and should go to
Buck Hill immediately, but if you don't mind, I'll hang around while
you get the seven o'clock dinners packed and then help you carry
them."
Judith did not mind at all. "I hope nobody at Buck Hill is ill," she
said.
"No, but my father is in a great stew over old Cousin Ann Peyton. She
is lost and he seems to feel I can find her. Why, I don't know, if he
and Big Josh can't, even with the help of the marshal."
"I am sure you can," declared Judith demurely, and Jeff thought
happily how agreeable it was to have someone besides a father have
such faith in his ability.
"You must come in and wait," insisted Judith. "There is a fire in the
dining-room. It is cold for September and a little fire towards
evening is pleasant."
Jeff entered the home of his newly claimed cousin with a feeling of
some embarrassment. It seemed strange that he had lived on the
adjoining farm all his early years and that this was the first time he
had been in the Bucks' house. There was a chaste New England charm
about the dining-room that appealed to him. It was a fit background
for the tall, white-haired old lady who was busily engaged in setting
the table as the young people entered. She was smiling and humming a
gay little minuet, as she straightened table mats and arranged forks
and knives in exactly the proper relation to each other and the
teaspoons.
Stooping and placing wood on the fire was an old negro man. His back
was strangely familiar to Jeff and there was something about the lines
of the white-haired old lady that made him stare. She was like Cousin
Ann but couldn't be she. Not only the snowy hair and the simple,
straight skirt of her gown were not those of the lost cousin, but the
fact that she was engaged in household duties was even more convincing
of a case of mistaken identity. It was old Billy that had flashed
through his mind, when he noticed the fire maker, but old Billy never
engaged in any form of domestic labor any more than his mistress.
"Someone to see you, Cousin Ann," said Judith, putting her arm around
the old lady's waist.
Jeff choked and gasped.
That evening the telephone wires were again kept hot by the Bucknors
and their many kinsmen. Everybody who had been informed of Miss Ann's
being lost must be informed of her being found. Big and Little Josh
drove over to Buck Hill to hear the story of Jeff's discovery.
"And what were you doing at the Bucks'?" Big Josh asked Jeff.
"I was calling on Miss Judith. In fact, I had jumped off the trolley
at that stop because I hoped she would be there," said Jeff, his face
flushing but his eyes holding a steady light as he looked into those
of his father's cousin. He even raised his voice a little so as to
make sure that everyone in the room might hear him.
"Well, well!" exploded Big Josh. "You have beat me to it. I was
planning to go to-morrow to call on our Cousin Judith Buck. You know
she is our cousin, Jeff--not too close, but just close enough. She has
been voted into the family when we sat in solemn conclave and now to
think of her proving she is kin before we had time to let her know of
her election--prove it by taking poor Cousin Ann in and making her
welcome! By jingo, she is a more worthy member of the clan than any
woman we have in the family. I was all for taking her in because she
is so gol darned pretty and up-and-coming. I must confess I wouldn't
have been so eager about it if she had been jimber-jawed and
cross-eyed, but, by the great jumping jingo, I'd say be my long-lost
cousin now if she had a wooden leg, a glass eye and china teeth!"
"Cousin Ann has left off her wig and her hoop skirts, too," said Jeff,
"and old Billy has trimmed his beard, and, what is more, both of them
were busy helping--Cousin Ann setting the table and Uncle Billy
bringing in wood and mending the fire."
"Did Judith Buck make them do it," asked Mildred. "She was a great
boss at school."
"That I don't know, but they seemed very happy in being able to help.
Mrs. Buck told me she was glad to have a visitor. Her daughter is away
so much and she gets lonely. Old Uncle Billy is established in a cabin
behind the house--"
"The one old Dick Buck lived in," interrupted Big Josh.
"And the old man told me he was planning to do the fall ploughing with
Cupid and Puck. He says they have plenty of pull left in them and my
private opinion is that Cousin Ann's old coach will not stand another
trip."
"See here," spoke Little Josh, who was the practical member of the
family, "this is all very well, but we Bucknors can't sit back and let
this little Judy Buck support our old cousin. The girl works night and
day for a living and to try to pull the farm her Grandfather Knight
left her and her mother back into some kind of fertility. Old Billy
and Cousin Ann may set the table and make the fires, but that isn't
bringing any money into the business. We've got to reimburse the girl
somehow."
"She wouldn't stand for it," said Jeff. "She is as proud as can be to
be able to have Cousin Ann visit her."
"Well, then we'll have to find a way that won't hurt her pride. Let's
send things to Cousin Ann. It will please the old lady and at the same
time help on our Cousin Judith."
"What kind of things?" asked Mr. Bob Bucknor, who had been singularly
quiet and thoughtful ever since his mind was relieved as to his
cousin's not being lost.
"The kind of things neighbors and kinsmen do for one another in our
state and all other states where neighbors are neighborly and where
blood is thicker than water, and blue blood thicker than any other
kind," exclaimed Big Josh. "When you kill mutton don't you send me a
quarter? Well, send one to the Bucks instead. When your potato crop
was a failure owing to the bugs getting ahead of you, didn't I share
with you? Well, let me share with this girl. When I harvest, aren't
all the relations ready to send hands to help if I need help? Who ever
helped Judith Buck?
"I bet your smokehouse is full and running over this minute. I know
mine is. Well, let them run over in the right channel. We can't do
enough for this young cousin. Gee, man, just to think of our being
spared the humiliation of having to go to Cousin Ann and, tell her
that we couldn't look after her any longer! I break out in a cold
sweat whenever I think of how near we came to it.
"If Cupid and Puck can't pull the plough, how about sending your
tractor over and getting Cousin Judith's few acres broken up for her
in three shakes of a dead sheep's tail? I'd do it if I were closer.
Why, jiminy crickets! We owe her an everlasting debt of gratitude just
for persuading Cousin Ann to step out of her wig and hoops, and
another one for making that old Billy trim his beard. I believe his
beard was what made the other darkeys hate him so, and I know if it
hadn't have been for Cousin Ann's hoop skirt and wig she would have
been helping the women folk around the house long before this. What
they had against her was that she was always company wherever she
stayed. I tell you, give me a red-headed girl for managing!"