The Daring Twins
_Best Books for Young Folk_
The Aunt Jane Series
By EDITH VAN DYNE
Aunt Jane’s Nieces
Aunt Jane’s Nieces Abroad
Aunt Jane’s Nieces at Millville
Aunt Jane’s Nieces at Work
Aunt Jane’s Nieces in Society
Aunt Jane’s Nieces and Uncle John
“Aunt Jane’s Nieces” chronicles the real doings of real girls in a most
interesting manner. “Aunt Jane’s Nieces Abroad” tells of a delightfully
adventurous trip through Europe, and the third volume describes their
summer holiday on a farm “at Millville.” In the fourth story the
“Nieces” are shown at work in the political arena. The fifth volume
introduces the girls to society and the last story relates further
adventures of these fascinating girls.
_Illustrated 12mos. Uniform cloth binding, stamped in colors, with
beautiful colored inlay._
_Price 60 cents each_
Annabel
By SUZANNE METCALF
A bright, swiftly-moving story of a young girl just blossoming into
womanhood, and of a boy struggling for a start in life.
_12mo. Dainty cloth binding, with inlaid design and six duotone
illustrations._
_Price 60 cents_
[Illustration: “YOU’RE ELECTED LITTLE MOTHER.” (_See Page 104._)]
The Daring Twins
A Story for Young Folk
By
L. Frank Baum
Author of The Oz Books, The Sea Fairies
and Other Tales
[Illustration]
Illustrated by Pauline M. Batchelder
Publishers
The Reilly & Britton Co.
Chicago
COPYRIGHT, 1911
by
The Reilly & Britton Co.
THE DARING TWINS
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I INTRODUCING THE DARINGS 9
II PHIL INTERVIEWS THE LAWYER 17
III BECKY GETS ACQUAINTED 32
IV PHŒBE’S SECRET 46
V A MATCH GAME 54
VI HUNTING A JOB 63
VII THE COMING OF COUSIN JUDITH 74
VIII THE “ARTICLES OF ADOPTION” 94
IX PHŒBE HAS AN ADVENTURE 109
X A DEPRESSING INTERVIEW 121
XI GETTING REGULATED 127
XII A BATTLE ROYAL 145
XIII PHIL MAKES A DISCOVERY 153
XIV THE FOLLY OF GRAN’PA ELIOT 166
XV SUE GETS A DIVORCE 173
XVI THE BOAT RACE 188
XVII IN THE TOILS 195
XVIII A SISTER’S LOVE 215
XIX THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 232
XX ACCUSED 242
XXI SHIFTING THE BURDEN 251
XXII MARION’S GHOST STORY 261
XXIII TWO AND TWO MAKE FOUR 276
XXIV TOBY CLARK’S HEROISM 290
XXV FATHER AND SON 298
XXVI THE WATERMARK 309
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
“YOU’RE ELECTED ‘LITTLE MOTHER’” _Frontispiece_
SHE EAGERLY COUNTED THE GOLD 166
PHŒBE GLANCED AT HER CALMLY 245
“I HAVE A STORY TO RELATE,” SAID THE BANKER 302
The Daring Twins
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCING THE DARINGS
“Now you-all stop dat a-foolin’ an’ eat yo’ brekfas’ like sens’ble
chill’ns,” said Aunt Hyacinth, coming in with a plate of smoking cakes.
“Ef yo’ don’, yo’ done be late fo’ school, shore ’nuff.”
A ripple of laughter went around the group of five young Darings as a
scramble was made for the cakes.
“I don’t b’lieve I’ll go to school to-day, Auntie,” said Sue, a demure
little miss at the lower end of the table.
“Yes yo’ will, honey,” retorted the black mammy, in a voice she meant
to be severe. “Yo’ ’s goin’ to school, all of yo’, an’ I don’t ’tend
yous’ll be late, nuther.”
“I’m not going, for one,” declared Don, his mouth too full to speak
properly.
“Get some more cakes; will you, Aunt Hy?” requested Becky, in a
plaintive tone. “They snapped those up so quick I couldn’t harpoon a
single one.”
The faithful old servant pattered back to the kitchen, slid more
cakes from the griddle to her plate, poured on fresh batter and came
pattering back again.
“Yo’, now, Miss Sue; what’s dat I heah ’bout stayin’ home f’m school?”
she demanded, a frown wrinkling her ebony brow.
“That’s it, Auntie; no school for me,” said Sue, grabbing a cake with
her fork before Phœbe could reach the plate.
“But yo’ mus’, chile; yo’ ain’t sick. Yo’ _mus’_ go to school.”
“Not to-day. I jus’ won’t, Auntie.”
“Yes yo’ will, Miss Sue! yo’ ’ll go ef I has to lead yo’ dere by de ear
o’ you.”
Even Phil joined the laughter now, and he said in his grave yet
pleasant way:
“You’ll have to lead us all, then, Auntie, and there are more ears than
you have hands.”
Aunt Hyacinth seemed bewildered. She looked around the table, from
one to another of the bright, laughing faces, and shook her head
reproachfully.
Then Sue, having consumed the cake, leaned back in her chair, shook the
tangled brown curls from her face and slowly raised her long curling
lashes, until the mischievous eyes were unveiled and sent a challenge
to Auntie’s startled ones.
“We’re misbehavin’ _drea_’fully; ain’t we? But a fact’s a fact, Auntie.
We’re none of us goin’ to school--so there, now!”
“W’y, yo’--yo’--yo’--”
Sue sprang upon her chair and threw both arms around old Hyacinth’s
neck, giving the black cheek a smacking kiss.
“You big goose!” said she; “don’t you know it’s Sat’day? There _be_ n’t
no school.”
“Wha’ ’s ’at?” cried Auntie, striving to cover her humiliation at being
caught in such a foolish error. “Is dat a proper speechifyin’ to say
dere ‘_be_ n’t no school’? Where’s yo’ grammeh, Miss Sue? Don’ let me
heah yo’ say ‘be n’t’ agin. Say, ‘dere _hain’t_ no school.’”
Phœbe led the laughter this time; but, when it had subsided she said
to the indignant servant:
“She certainly does use awfully bad grammar, Auntie, and you’re quite
right to correct her. But, I’m positive that something’s burning in the
kitchen.”
Aunt Hyacinth made a dive for the door and let in a strong odor of
charred cakes as she passed through.
Phœbe got up from her place and walked to the latticed window.
Something attracted her attention outside, for she gave a little
start. Phil joined her just then and slipped his arm around her slim
waist. They were twins, these two, and the eldest of the five Darings.
“What is it, dear?” he asked.
“The people are moving in, across the way,” she said, rather sadly. “I
didn’t know they were expected so soon.”
There was a rush for the window, at this, but five heads were too many
for the space and the outlook was hindered by a mass of climbing ivy.
Don made for the porch, and the others followed him into the fresh
morning air.
For a while they all gazed silently at the great mansion across the
way, set in the midst of an emerald lawn. Men were carrying trunks in
at the side entrance. Before the door stood a carriage from which a
woman, a man, a girl and a boy had alighted. They were gazing around
them with some curiosity, for the scene was all new to them.
“Isn’t it funny,” whispered Becky, softly, “to think of other folks
living in our old home?”
“It isn’t ours, now,” said Don, testily; “so, what’s the odds?”
“It was sold last fall, soon after papa died,” remarked Phœbe, “and
this Mr. Randolph bought it. I suppose that’s him strutting across the
lawn--the stout gentleman with the cane.”
“The grounds seem more of an attraction to them than the house,”
remarked Phil.
“Yes, they’re fresh from the city,” answered his twin. “I’m rather
surprised they haven’t come to Riverdale before, to occupy their new
home.”
“Our house was sold ’cause we were poor, wasn’t it?” asked Sue.
“Yes, dear. We couldn’t afford to keep it, because poor papa left a
lot of debts that had to be paid. So we moved over here, to Gran’pa
Eliot’s.”
“Don’t like this place,” observed Don, his hands thrust deep in his
pockets, as he stared across the street. “It isn’t half as fine or cosy
as our old home.”
“It’s lucky for us that Gran’pa Eliot had a house,” returned Phil,
gravely. “And it’s lucky Mr. Ferguson induced him to let us live in it.”
“Guess gran’pa couldn’t help himself, being paralyzed like he is,” said
Becky.
“It’s the first thing he ever did for us, anyhow,” added Don,
grumblingly. “And he sticks to his room upstairs and won’t let us come
near him.”
“Do you want to visit gran’pa?” asked Phœbe, turning to her younger
brother.
“No.”
“Then don’t complain, dear, if he doesn’t want you. He’s old and
helpless; and as for helping us, I’m afraid gran’pa is almost as
poor as we are,” she said, her eyes still regarding, with wistful
earnestness, the scene across the street.
“Poor! Gran’pa Eliot poor, with this big house?” exclaimed Sue,
incredulously.
“I think so; I’m sure it’s so,” answered Phœbe. “Old Miss Halliday
asked me to keep you all from picking the fruit in the garden, when it
ripens; because, she says gran’pa has to sell it to get enough money to
pay taxes and his living expenses. And she gathers all the eggs from
the chickens and sells them to Mr. Wyatt, the grocer. That must mean
gran’pa’s pretty poor, you know.”
“Is old Miss Halliday any relation to us?” asked Don.
“No; she was an old servant of grandmother’s, before she died--her
housekeeper, I believe; and afterward, when gran’pa became paralyzed,
she took care of him.”
“She seems to run everything around this place as if she owned it,”
muttered the boy.
“She’s a very faithful woman,” observed Phil; “and a very disagreeable
one. I don’t know what gran’pa would have done without her. She gets
his meals and waits on him night and day.”
“Somehow,” said Becky, “I sort o’ hate her. She won’t let us into
any of the back rooms upstairs, though she and gran’pa can’t use all
of ’em; and she never comes near us unless she wants to jaw about
something we’ve done. I run a clothesline through the grass yesterday,
and tripped old Halliday up when she went to feed the chickens, and she
was as mad as anything.”
“I think she doesn’t care much for young people,” admitted Phœbe;
“and as none of us cares for her it’s just as well that we should live
apart--even if we occupy the same house. After all, my dears, we should
be grateful for being allowed so much room in this comfortable old
shack. We had no other place to go after our own home was sold.”
There was silence in the little group for a moment. Then Becky asked,
curiously:
“Where do we get the money to live on? We have to pay our own grocery
bills, don’t we?”
Phil started and looked upon his younger sister wonderingly, as if she
had suggested a new thought to him. Then he turned to Phœbe.
“There must have been a little money left,” he said. “It never occurred
to me before. I must ask Mr. Ferguson about it.”
Phœbe flushed a trifle, but looked down instead of meeting her
twin’s earnest gaze.
“_I’ve_ thought of it, Phil,” she replied, softly. “Whatever was left
after paying papa’s debts must have been little enough, and can’t last
forever. And then--”
Phil was regarding her with serious eyes. He glanced at the younger
ones and said quickly:
“Never mind. We haven’t suffered from poverty so far, have we? And
we won’t. We’ve Daring blood in our veins, and that means we can
accomplish anything we set out to do.”
Phœbe smiled and turned to reënter the house.
“Saturday is my busy day,” she remarked brightly. “I suppose you’re
going to practice for the baseball match, Phil?”
“Yes,” he said, “I promised the boys--” Then he stopped and shook his
head. “I don’t know yet what I’ll do, Phœbe,” he added. “Just now
I’ve an errand down town.”
He caught up his cap, kissed his twin and strode down the walk to
the gate. Phœbe cautioned the younger ones not to raise a racket
under Gran’pa Eliot’s window, but to keep in the front yard if they
were going to play. Then she stole softly away to her own little room
upstairs and locked herself in so as not to be disturbed.