MR. BENNETT SHAKES HANDS
Before Professor Twaddles could say what he thought of this remarkable
story, the bang of the front door sent him and Dot flying into the hall
to see who had come. It was Bobby and Meg who had come home because of
the cold.
“Hardly anyone at the pond,” reported Bobby, blowing on his fingers and
stamping up and down to warm his feet. “Let’s ask Mother if we may make
candy.”
The four little Blossoms enjoyed a grand taffy pull, and in the
afternoon they played “menagerie” in the playroom, using the animal
suits left over from the play they had given a year before.
The next morning Father Blossom said the weather was milder, and Meg
and Bobby were eager to try the pond again. The twins begged so hard
to be allowed to go, and promised so eagerly to do everything they
were asked to do, that it would have taken a harder-hearted brother and
sister than Bobby and Meg to have refused them.
“Maybe next year we’ll have skates,” said Twaddles as he pattered
along, trying to keep up with Bobby.
“Daddy was going to get you some for Christmas,” explained Bobby, “but
Mother said next year would be better. You can watch Meg and me skate.”
The pond was well filled this morning and most of Bobby’s and Meg’s
friends were there. A blazing bonfire was burning down close to the
edge of the pond and the girls sat around this to put on their skates.
“You kids want to stay away from the fire,” said Stanley Reeves,
skating up just as the four little Blossoms reached the pond. “And if I
catch any boy taking a stick out to play with, I’ll paddle him with it,
sure as you’re born!”
Everyone laughed for Stanley was as good-natured as he was tall--and he
was the tallest boy in his class in high school.
“You think I’m fooling, but I mean it,” he said seriously. “Fire is
nothing to play with.”
“’Less you want to burn down a carpenter shop!” shouted Tim Roon. Then
he skated away, with Fred Baldwin after him.
“Don’t you mind him,” whispered Meg to Bobby, as they joined hands and
struck out across the ice. “He just likes to be mean.”
It did seem as though Tim liked to be mean. He and Charlie Black,
instead of skating off with the others, hung around the edges of
the pond and tried to tease the younger children who were amusing
themselves by making slides on the ice. There were half a dozen who
had no skates and these played with Twaddles and Dot. Left alone,
they would have had a happy time, but Tim and Charlie continually
tormented them. Finally when Tim put out his foot and tripped Morgan
Smith, a boy about a year older than Twaddles, for the third time, that
quick-tempered lad lost his last shred of patience.
“I’ll fix you!” he shouted, and grabbing a long burning stick from the
fire he started after Tim.
The other children scattered and Morgan, his stick leaving a trail of
fire behind him, was running after Tim when Twaddles cried a warning.
“Look out! Stanley’s coming!” he called.
Morgan turned, but not quickly enough to throw the stick back in the
fire. Stanley skated up to him and not even Mr. Carter, the twins
thought, could look more severe than he did.
“What do you mean, pulling a stick out of the fire like that?” demanded
Stanley. “Don’t you know the little Davis girl was burned yesterday
doing that? I’ve a good mind to spank you with that very stick.”
This was too much for Twaddles, who saw Tim grinning on the edge of the
crowd.
“I think you ought to spank Tim Roon,” said Twaddles clearly. “He
tripped Morgan three times and he won’t leave us alone.”
“Is that so?” said Stanley. “Well, in that case I think I’ll excuse
you, Morgan. But next time you leave fire alone. And Tim, I’ll attend
to you if I hear you’ve been bothering children younger than yourself
again.”
Tim skated off muttering that “he guessed Stanley Reeves didn’t own
the whole pond.” Yet after that the children had their slide in peace.
Bobby and Meg called the twins when the whistles blew at twelve o’clock
and they went home to lunch.
Mother Blossom said that no one should try to skate all day, so Meg
and the twins stayed home in the afternoon. But Bobby was due at the
dentist’s at three o’clock. His teeth needed cleaning only and he did
not dread the visit to kind Dr. Ward.
“Stop in the grocery, will you, Bobby,” said Norah as he was leaving
the house. “And bring me a bottle of vanilla. I find I haven’t a drop
in the bottle.”
Bobby promised, and as soon as Dr. Ward had finished with him, he
crossed over to the grocery store to get Norah’s vanilla.
“Heard about the tramps?” asked the clerk who waited on him.
Bobby asked what tramps and the clerk glanced at him curiously.
“Thought you’d know all about it,” he said. “Why, the constable’s
arrested two tramps he caught hanging around the railroad station.
Guess they were waiting for a freight--there’s one goes through
at two-thirty. They say one of ’em used to work for Bennett, the
carpenter, and the other is a pal of his. Folks say they may know
something about the fire at the shop last fall.”
Bobby took the bottle of vanilla the clerk gave him and bolted out of
the store without a word. He ran all the way home and burst into the
house so breathless that he had to wait a minute before he could speak.
“Where’s Mother?” he asked Norah, who came into the hall to get her
vanilla.
“Upstairs,” she answered. “What have you been doing, Bobby? Your face
is as red as a beet.”
Bobby dashed upstairs without answering, and met Meg in the upstairs
hall.
“Where’s Mother?” he asked again.
“Up in the attic, hunting for some red flannel to make a new tongue for
Dot’s teddy bear,” replied Meg. “What do you want, Bobby?”
Bobby was already half-way up the attic stairs and Meg flew after him.
Mother Blossom and the twins were looking over the contents of one of
the rag bags in the middle of the attic floor and they were surprised
when Bobby rushed toward them crying, “They’ve found the tramps,
Mother! They ’rested two of them and one used to work for Mr. Bennett!
The clerk in the grocery store says so!”
“Why, Bobby!” said Mother Blossom, reaching up and pulling her “big
boy” as she often called Bobby, into her lap. “Why, Bobby, dear! Tell
me about it, quick.”
Meg sat down on the floor to listen and Dot and Twaddles hung over
Mother Blossom’s shoulder.
“I don’t know much about it,” said Bobby excitedly. “But the grocery
store clerk told me the constable arrested two tramps this afternoon.
He said folks said they might know something about the fire. And Daddy
said so that night.”
“What night?” asked Dot curiously.
“Oh--a night,” replied Bobby. The twins had never learned of his
attempt to run away and he did not intend to tell them now. “Daddy
said he heard two tramps were seen hanging around the carpenter shop
the afternoon before it burned.”
“Ting-a-ling! Ting-a-ling!” the sound of the telephone bell came
faintly up the attic stairs.
“I’ll answer it!” cried Meg, jumping to her feet.
“No, let me!” shouted Bobby, running after her. Mother Blossom ran,
too, and so did Dot and Twaddles who thought this was all great fun.
“Mr. Blossom wants to speak to you, ma’am,” said Norah, as Mother
Blossom reached the first floor hall where the telephone was placed.
“He says it’s important.”
The four little Blossoms stood around expectantly and listened eagerly
while Mother Blossom said “Yes, Ralph,” and “No, indeed,” and “I’m so
glad.”
You know how one-sided a telephone conversation sounds. Finally Mother
Blossom hung up the receiver.
“Daddy says Mr. Baldwin telephoned him about the tramps and that he is
going with him and Mr. Davis and Mr. Ashe to the recorder’s office
right away,” said Mother Blossom. “Then, as soon as he has anything to
tell us, he’ll come home and we shall know all there is to know.”
You may imagine how the four little Blossoms glued their faces to the
front windows to watch for Father Blossom, and what a racket they made
when the car turned in the drive. They were out on the porch in a
minute, dancing in the cold like four little wild Indians.
“Come in, come in,” said Father Blossom laughing as they pounced upon
him. “You are not little Eskimos, you know. Yes, Bobby, I’ll tell you
everything in a minute. Let me get my gloves off. Don’t strangle me,
Dot; I need my breath to talk with.”
As soon as he was settled before the fire in the living-room, the four
children sitting in a row on the hearth rug and Mother Blossom in her
chair opposite, Father Blossom told them what he had learned that
afternoon.
“Mr. Baldwin telephoned me as soon as he heard of the arrest of the
tramps,” said Father Blossom, “and I came into town at once and
met him and Mr. Davis and Mr. Ashe at Recorder Scott’s office. Mr.
Bennett was also there. The tramps didn’t seem to be bad fellows, only
shiftless and careless. One of them had worked for Mr. Bennett several
years ago.
“The recorder gave them an informal hearing and though vagrancy was
the charge against them, he began to question them about where they
had been and what towns they stopped in during the last few months.
He surprised them into admitting that they were in Oak Hill around
Thanksgiving time and though they denied they had been in the carpenter
shop, he finally drove them into a corner and one of them owned up to
having slept in the shop the night it burned. The man said they were
cold and they found the shop window open and crawled in, meaning to
stay till morning. They smoked a pipe or two and then went to sleep.
The crackling of flames awoke them, and they found the shop on fire.
Though they were terribly frightened, they were good enough to grope
through the smoke and heat till they found the cat and tossed her out
of the window. Then they broke down the door and got out and ran for
dear life. Naturally they were not anxious to be charged with setting
the fire.”
“But if they were seen around the shop, why weren’t they traced?” asked
Mother Blossom. “How could Mr. Bennett suspect five little boys?”
“Oh, boys and mischief go together in some people’s minds,” said Father
Blossom, smiling at Bobby. “And the tramps were sixty miles away before
morning. They caught a fast freight out of town. But now everyone in
Oak Hill knows who set the fire, for good news travels fast.”
Bobby felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his mind. Back
in his head, ever since the fire and Mr. Bennett’s charge that he and
his chums were responsible, had been the question: “Does everyone think
I did it?” Now he knew that everyone knew and, best of all, he could go
back to school with no fear of being taunted with being a “fire-bug.”
“Will the tramps have to go to prison?” he asked Father Blossom that
night.
“No, not to prison, I think,” replied Father Blossom. “It will depend
to some extent on Mr. Bennett. But no one can do wrong and not be
punished, Bobby. Sooner or later, we have to pay for wrong doing and
mistakes.”
Saturday Meg and Bobby went together for the last afternoon of skating
they could enjoy before school opened. The holidays were almost over.
Bobby had his skates on first and he and Fred and Palmer were racing
across the pond to see who could reach the other side and be back
before Meg should be ready, when Bobby heard his sister give a little
cry.
“Tim’s teasing her!” shouted Bobby angrily. “Just wait till I get him!”
But Stanley Reeves had seen Tim skate up and take Meg’s mittens which
lay on the ice beside her. He was a splendid skater, was Stanley, and
he easily overtook the grinning Tim.
“I owe you one licking, Tim, and now you’re going to get it,” said
Stanley, dragging Tim back to where Meg and Bobby and the other
children stood. “Hand over those mittens and say you’re sorry you took
’em!”
Tim mumbled something that sounded like “sorry.”
“Ask him if he gave Bobby the coal for Christmas in school,” said
Bertrand Ashe suddenly.
“Did you?” asked Stanley, shaking Tim as though he hoped by that method
to shake the truth out of him.
Tim nodded miserably.
“Then say you’re sorry,” ordered Stanley and again Tim mumbled an
apology.
“All right. And here’s something to make you a better boy,” said
Stanley turning the astonished Tim over his knee. And, being much older
and a strong and athletic lad, he did manage to spank Tim thoroughly in
spite of his shrieks and kicks.
Tim fled as soon as he was released and for at least two weeks gave his
schoolmates and teachers no trouble at all. As Stanley said, someone
ought to spank him often enough and he would probably be a very good
child.
On their way home from the pond that afternoon, Bobby and Meg met the
carpenter. Bobby had not seen Mr. Bennett since the day he accused him
of setting fire to his shop. Now he stopped and held out his hand.
“Hope I know enough to say I was mistaken,” he said. “Will you shake
hands, Bobby? I’m mighty sorry I blundered.”
Bobby shook hands with a beaming face. All the way home he walked on
air.
“Everybody’s nice,” he announced at dinner that night, “when you know
them.”
And here let us say good-bye to the Four Little Blossoms.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.