THE WIND BLEW
Every one stood still on hearing Trouble’s voice.
“There he is!” cried Mrs. Martin. “Did you hear him?”
“I heard him,” said Uncle Ben.
“But where can he be?” asked Mrs. Martin. “I can hear him, but I can’t
see him.”
“Who’s that?” asked Mr. Martin, coming back from the road, holding
Teddy’s hand. For his little boy had run down and told him to come
back, though Teddy forgot to say what for. “What’s the matter?” asked
Mr. Martin.
“Oh, it’s Trouble again,” answered his wife. “He slipped away after we
had finished our ice-cream, and now I can’t see him, though he just
now called to us.”
And, once more, came the voice of Trouble, saying:
“I dot him! Tum an’ det him, Teddy!”
“He’s back of my stand!” cried the ice-cream boy. “His voice comes
from there.”
“Come on! Let’s look!” exclaimed Uncle Ben.
“Here I is!” came the voice.
“Why—why—that sounded just as if it came from that dog kennel!”
exclaimed Mrs. Martin, pointing to one not far away.
“Is there a dog in there?” asked Uncle Ben of the boy.
“Yes. At least, a puppy,” was the answer.
“Trouble! Trouble, where are you?” called his mother.
In answer a little tousled head was thrust out of the opening, or
front door, of the dog kennel, and the head was followed by the body
of Trouble himself. He was smiling, though his face was dirty, and in
his arms he held a little black puppy.
“I dot him!” he cried. “I dot our Skywocket back aden!”
You should have heard Janet and Teddy laugh then.
“That isn’t Skyrocket, Trouble, dear!” said Janet.
“That isn’t our dog at all!” added Teddy, laughing so hard he could
hardly speak.
Trouble seemed much surprised. He held the puppy, which was a very
small one, away from him so he might look at it better. Then he
brought it back into his lap as he sat on the ground outside the
kennel.
“Dis not Skywocket?” he asked.
“Why, no, Trouble. That dog belongs to this boy,” said Mrs. Martin.
“How did you come to crawl in there with the puppy?”
“I wanted Skywocket,” explained Trouble. “I did see a doggie. He
wanted me to tum an’ play wif him, an’ I did tum. An’ I went into his
little house, an’ we had fun. Him is a nice doggie and he kissed me on
my face ’ist ’ike Skywocket!”
“Yes, I dare say he did!” laughed Mrs. Martin. “Most puppies will lick
you with their tongue if they get a chance. But put the little doggie
down now, Trouble, and come to me. My! but you are dirty.”
“You can take him over to our house and wash him,” suggested the
ice-cream boy. “We have lots of water at our house. My little brother
gets dirty, too, and has to be washed every day.”
It did not take long to get Trouble clean, with the big basin of warm
water and a little soap which the mother of the boy who kept the
ice-cream stand brought out for Mrs. Martin.
“Now I think we are ready to travel on again,” said Daddy Martin, when
they were once more in the automobile.
“Skywocket not come?” asked Trouble, waving his hand toward the kennel
of the puppy into which he had crawled. “Me want Skywocket.”
“That isn’t Skyrocket!” laughed Teddy, though he felt quite sorry when
he thought of his lost pet. “That fellow is this boy’s dog!”
“Yes; and I’d hate to have any one take him away,” said the ice-cream
boy. “Did your dog die?” he inquired.
“No,” answered Janet. “But he dis—he dis—— Oh, what’s that funny word
you told me, Uncle Ben?” she asked.
“Disappeared,” answered Mr. Wilson. “Skyrocket disappeared. That is,
he went off all at once, just like a skyrocket,” he added.
“We don’t know if the same burglars took him that took the queer box
from Miss Ransom,” said Teddy, “but Skyrocket is gone. But of course
we wouldn’t take your dog!” he added quickly. “My little brother
doesn’t know dogs very well, and he surely did like Skyrocket.”
“Skywocket nice dog!” exclaimed Trouble. “Me ’ike dis dog, too!”
“Yes, you like a good many things,” laughed Mrs. Martin, as she
smoothed out Baby William’s hair. “You like to get in the dirt, too!”
Good-byes were said to the ice-cream boy and his mother, and when a
supply of lollypops had been bought for Ted, Jan and Trouble, Mr.
Martin started the automobile, and once more they were on their way to
Silver Lake.
Nothing more worth telling you about happened until they reached the
place where the Curlytops expected to have such good times with Uncle
Ben on the water. The only little thing that really did happen was
that Trouble dropped his lollypop when they were almost at the lake,
and he wanted his father to stop the machine and get his bit of candy
on a stick.
But as Trouble had eaten more than half of the lollypop, and as it was
wet and sticky and had dropped in the dust, Mrs. Martin did not think
it would be a good thing to give it back to Trouble.
“I’ll give you another when we get to Silver Lake,” she said, and with
that the little fellow was satisfied.
On chugged the automobile, up hill and down, through the woods, now
and then passing through small towns, and finally Mr. Martin said:
“There it is!”
“What?” asked Ted and Jan both at once.
“Silver Lake!” answered their father. “See it just ahead of you, at
the bottom of the hill, sparkling in the sun!”
He pointed, and the children saw it. They had been to Silver Lake once
or twice before, but they did not remember much about it.
“What a beautiful place!” exclaimed Uncle Ben, as he leaned forward to
look. “I’ve seen many a bit of water,” he added, “but none as pretty
as that.”
“Do you like it?” asked Mrs. Martin.
“Very much, indeed. I think I shall be very happy there, and I know
I’ll get well and strong.”
Silver Lake was very much like its name. It sparkled like a new, shiny
piece of silver in the sun. Around the lake were many trees, making a
regular picnic woods. And indeed Silver Lake was what is called a
picnic resort. That is, a company had put up on one of the shores a
merry-go-round and a place where you could “shoot the chutes”—that is,
slide down a wooden hill into the water, riding in queer little wooden
boats. There was also a roller coaster, places to get ice-cream and
candy, and one place where you could get a regular dinner.
There were many things to amuse children, and grown-ups also. There
were sailboats and rowboats to hire, and there was a motor boat in
which one could ride all around the lake for ten cents.
Silver Lake was quite a large body of water, and the picnic grounds
were only a small part of it. Around the shores of the rest of the
lake were summer cottages and bungalows, and it was to one of these
bungalows, which he owned, that Mr. Martin was taking his family to
spend their vacation.
Mr. Martin also owned some of the boats on the lake, and it was to
take charge of these boats, hiring them out to picnic parties who
wanted to ride in them, that Uncle Ben had been brought to Silver
Lake.
“You can stay on the boat pier in a little office, and look after my
sailboats, canoes, and rowboats,” said Mr. Martin to Uncle Ben. “That
will keep you outdoors, and make you well and strong.”
“And can we go out in boats with him?” asked Teddy, as they alighted
from the automobile in front of the bungalow in which they were to
stay.
“Oh, yes,” answered Mr. Martin. “I think you will have lots of fun on
the water with Uncle Ben. He will not have to be busy all the time, as
he will have a man and a boy to help him.”
“Oh, it’s just dandy here!” cried Teddy, as he ran about on the soft
ground under the trees in front of the bungalow.
“We’ll have lots of fun!” echoed Janet.
Trouble got slowly down from his mother’s arms. He walked this way and
that, looking out at the lake, which was shining like silver among the
trees, and he looked up at the clouds floating overhead.
“Me ’ikes it here!” he decided. “Maybe we find Skywocket!”
“Oh, isn’t he cute!” cried Janet, and she hugged and kissed her little
brother. “But, Trouble, dear, I don’t b’lieve Skyrocket will come
here.”
“I don’t think so, either,” said Teddy. “But still he might. Once we
hid away up in Tom Taylor’s barn, in the hay—’member, Jan?—and Sky
found us there.”
“Yes, he did,” agreed Janet. “But this is a long way off.”
“Don’t think too much about your lost dog,” advised Mrs. Martin. “If
he is lost he is lost, and that is all there is to it. It’s too bad,
of course, and I wish he were back. But you must make the best of it,
and, some day, maybe we’ll have another dog.”
“No,” said Ted slowly, as he thought it over. “If I can’t have
Skyrocket I don’t want any dog.”
“Me, either,” said Janet. “But maybe he’ll come back to us.”
“And maybe Tom Taylor and me—I mean I—maybe we’ll find the burglars
that went into Miss Ransom’s store,” said Teddy.
“How can you, when Tom Taylor isn’t here?” asked Janet.
“That’s so,” agreed her brother. “I wish Tom was here,” he went on. “I
like to play with him. Could he come and stay with us?” he asked his
mother.
Mr. and Mrs. Martin looked at one another and laughed in a queer way.
“Oh, have you got a secret?” cried Janet, for she had seen her father
and mother laugh like this before. “Have you a secret?”
“Maybe—just a little one,” said her mother, still smiling. “But now
you children play around, while daddy and I take the things out of the
auto and get ready for supper.”
Supper was to be the first meal in the bungalow at Silver Lake, and
plenty of things to eat had been brought along, so that not much
cooking would have to be done the day the Curlytops arrived. Later on
Nora, the cook, was to come and help Mrs. Martin.
“I can help get supper,” said Uncle Ben.
“All right, then we’ll let you help,” said Mrs. Martin. “Now, Jan and
Ted, you take good care of Trouble while I’m busy.”
“Yes’m,” promised the two Curlytops.
They had on their play clothes, and it was not long before they were
running here and there, rolling about and tumbling about on the soft
carpet of green moss under the forest trees. Trouble laughed and
squealed with delight.
There were a number of bungalows near the one that Mr. Martin had
bought for his family, but, as yet, no one was in them. The owners
would be down in another week or two, Mrs. Martin said.
Not far away from “Sunnyside,” as the Martin bungalow was named, was
the boat dock owned by the children’s father, and there were several
sailboats and rowboats tied there.
Uncle Ben was helping Mrs. Martin get supper, Mr. Martin was busy
putting away the groceries he had brought in the automobile, and
everything was being put in “ship-shape” order, as Uncle Ben would
say, when Janet, followed by Trouble, came hurrying into the bungalow.
“Oh! Oh!” cried the little girl, and her mother could see that she was
much excited. “Oh, dear! He’s gone!”
“Who’s gone?” asked Mrs. Martin, though in another instant, not seeing
Teddy, she guessed who it was that Janet meant.
“Ted—Teddy!” gasped Janet. “He’s gone! The wind blew him away!”