A LONG LOOK AHEAD
Before the Corner House party and their guests could get away in their
automobile after the show, and before Cap'n Quigg and Louise had, in
their bashful way, thanked the young folks from Milton for helping save
the burning canalboat, Uncle Bill Sorber appeared to bid the party
good-night.
Right then and there the ringmaster made a bargain with the captain of
the _Nancy Hanks_ to transport Scalawag to Milton on this return trip.
The circus had shown at the home town of the Corner House girls while
they were away on their motor trip earlier in the summer; so Mr. Sorber
would not again be in Milton during the open season.
"Old Scalawag has done his last tricks in the ring to-night," the
showman said. "I'd made my mind up to that before you young people
appeared. And now we had a chance to make a little fancy business of it.
I believe in advertising the circus in season and out. The papers will
give us half a column at least to-morrow, what with the fire on that
barge and the presentation of Scalawag to this little girlie here," and
he shook hands again with Dot.
Dot was sound asleep before the car was off the circus field. She and
Sammy slept most of the way home and, it was so late, when they arrived
most of the congratulations and all the punishment due the youngsters
was postponed.
To tell the truth, Dot rose the next morning with a vague feeling that
the venture in piracy, as Luke Shepard for a long time called it, was
something that had happened to her and Sammy in a dream. And the adults
were all so glad that the affair had turned out happily that even
scoldings were mild.
Sammy, however, had an interview with his father that next evening that
made a deep impression upon the boy's mind.
For the first time Sammy began to understand that he had an influence
upon other people--especially small people--that must be for good rather
than ill. He was the older, and he should not have allowed Dot to lead
him astray. Besides, it was not manly for a boy to encourage a little
girl to do things that might bring her to harm.
"When I go off to be a real pirate," Sammy confessed later to Neale, "I
ain't goin' to take a girl anyway. No more. My father says pirates that
carried off women with 'em never came to a good end."
The flurry of excitement and anxiety regarding Dot and Sammy blew over
as all similar things did. With Mrs. MacCall, one may believe that
there was seldom a day passed at the old Corner House that did not bring
its own experiences of a startling nature. Aunt Sarah declared she was
kept "in a fidgit" all the time by the children.
"I don't know what a fidgit is," Tess confessed; "but we've got to be
careful what we do now for a while, Dottie."
"Why?" asked the little girl.
"'Cause Aunt Sarah seems awfully uncomfortable when she's in one of
those fidgits. Yesterday, when you were lost, she was walking up and
down stairs and all over the house. She must have walked _miles_! I
guess fidgits are wearing on her."
The older Corner House girls did not mean that their guests should feel
neglected because of the excitement about the lost children. One day's
planned amusement for Cecile and Luke Shepard was lost. The latter
declared, however, that pursuing embryo pirates and saving burning
canalboats, to say nothing of attending the circus, seemed to him to
have made up a more or less interesting and exciting day.
Luke was making himself much liked by every member of the Corner House
family. Even Aunt Sarah endured his presence with more than usual
complacency. Agnes found him a most cheerful philosopher and friend. The
little girls considered him, next to Neale O'Neil, to be the nicest boy
they had ever known.
Mrs. MacCall had her say regarding Luke Shepard, too. It was to Ruth,
and the outburst came after the Scotch woman had ample time to consider
and form her opinion of the young man.
"Hech, ma lassie! there's a time coming when all o' ye will be thinkin'
o' young men, an' bringin' them to the hoose. Forbye it's natural ye
should. But 'tis in ma mind, Ruthie, ye'll never find one more suited to
ye than yon bonnie lad."
"Oh, Mrs. Mac!" gasped Ruth, blushing furiously, and she actually ran
out of the room to escape the keen scrutiny of the old housekeeper.
The oldest Corner House girl was growing up. One could not doubt it.
Agnes exclaimed one morning as she and Ruth were dressing:
"Why, Ruthie! you really are as big as the old girls now. Of course you
are. You are just as much grown up as Carrie Poole--and _she's_ engaged.
And so is Elizabeth Forbes. And Annie Dudley will be married before
Christmas. Oh, Ruthie! did you ever think of being married?"
"For goodness' sake, child!" ejaculated Ruth, hiding her face quickly
from her pretty sister, "where is your sense?"
"My cents are where my dollars are," laughed Agnes. "I am talking just
as good sense as you ever heard, Ruth Kenway. Of course, some day you
will marry."
"What for?" snapped her sister, inclined to be a little piqued because
of Agnes' insistence.
"To please yourself, I hope," Agnes said slyly. "But surely to please
some man, my dear."
"I don't know any man I'd want to please--"
"Hush!" warned Agnes, who was looking out of the open window, and she
said it with mischief dancing in her eyes. "There's Luke Shepard."
"What do you mean?" demanded Ruth, flaring up in haste, not at all like
her usual placid self.
"Why--on the lawn. Luke is on the lawn, I was going to say," declared
Agnes, making innocent eyes again. "Why so touchy?"
But her sister did not answer her. To tell the truth she was being
worried a good deal by the family's interest in a matter which she
considered should interest herself alone--and one other.
Of course she had gone out with boys before, had been brought home from
parties, had been escorted from evening meetings. Boys had carried her
books home from school, and invited her to entertainments, and all that.
But Ruth had always been so busy--there were such a multitude of things
she was interested in--that never a sentimental thought had entered her
head about any of these young swains.
If any of them had been inclined to have what the slangy Agnes called a
"crush" on Ruth, they had quickly discovered that she had no use for
that sort of thing. She made friends of boys as she made friends of
girls--and that was all. And, really, she had never cared greatly to go
out much or be with boys. She only had endured Neale about the house--or
so she believed--because he was useful and really was a remarkably
domestic boy.
Ruth's mental attitude toward men was rapidly changing. She had never in
her life before thought so much about boys, or young men, as she had
during this week that Luke Shepard remained at the house with his
sister. He seemed quite unlike any other person that Ruth had ever known
before.
They were much together. Not, seemingly, by any plan on either side. But
if Ruth took her sewing to the front porch, like enough she would find
Luke there reading. Cecile and Agnes were clattering off at all hours to
shop, or go to the motion picture shows, or visit Agnes' friends.
If Luke had anything to do at all, usually it was more convenient to do
it in the company of the eldest Corner House girl. And wherever they
met, or whatever they did, Ruth and Luke found plenty of subjects for
conversation.
Never out of topics for small talk, were they, no indeed! And the most
interesting things to say to each other! Of course, each was deeply
interested in whatever seemed of moment to the other.
Not having known each other for very long, Ruth and Luke had to learn
many things about each other which they would have known as a matter of
course had they been brought up as neighbors. They wanted to learn each
other's likes and dislikes on a multitude of questions. Then they
deferred to each other's tastes in a way that at first amazed the other
people in the house and then secretly amused them.
That is, Mrs. MacCall, Agnes, and Neale were amused. Tess merely said
seemingly apropos of nothing at all:
"Our Ruthie never did like boys before. But I guess Mr. Luke must be
different."
"He isn't as nice as Neale," Dot proclaimed, loyal to the older friend,
"but I like him."
Mr. Howbridge chanced to call--or was it chance! At any rate, he met
Luke Shepard and his sister and seemed to approve of both of them.
"Your young friends are remarkably attractive, I am sure, Ruth," the
lawyer said, with twinkling eyes as he was going. "Let me see, there's
no danger yet of a dowry being wanted out of that idle money we are
going to have--for Agnes, for instance?"
Ruth blushed furiously. She was getting that habit, it seemed, of late.
"I do wish, Mr. Howbridge, that you wouldn't joke so--"
"On such very serious subjects?" he interposed.
"It would be very serious indeed if our Agnes thought of such things. At
her age!"
"True. And, of course, nobody else in this house could possibly bear
such a thing in mind. Good-bye, my dear. Of course, if anything should
happen, let me know at once."
"Oh, everything is all right now, Mr. Howbridge," said Ruth, ignoring
his insinuations. "I am sure the roof will not leak now that the roofers
have been here. And, as you say, the painting of the house would better
go until late in the fall."
He shook his finger at her as he went out of the door.
"You are a very bright young lady, Ruth Kenway."
"Boy," said Cecile to her brother, "you are getting in deep."
"And glad of it," growled Luke, knowing full well what she meant.
"But what about Neighbor?"
"I am going to see Neighbor," declared the young man, looking very
uncomfortable but decisive. "I'm not going to be a cad."
"You couldn't be that, Luke," she told him.
"Oh, yes, I could. I have been tempted," Luke said.
"Tempted to do what--to say what?"
"To try and make Ruth Kenway like me and let me tell her how very fond I
am of her without a thought for the future, Sis."
"Oh, Luke! You are looking so very far ahead."
"I know it. And with the prospect I have without Neighbor's help, it
would be looking very, very far indeed. I would be wrong to try to tie
up any girl so long. I've fought that all out. I won't do it."
"But what will you do?" asked his sister, grieving for him in both voice
and look.
"See Neighbor the moment we get home. I'll put it to him straight. I'll
be no man's slave and for no amount of money. If he will see it in the
right light I shall stop off here at Milton on my way to college, and
just tell Ruth all about it."
"And if Neighbor will not listen to reason?"
"Then I must not speak to Ruth," the young man said bitterly, and turned
abruptly away from her.
"Yes. But," murmured Cecile, "will that be kind to Ruth? I wonder!"