THE REBELLION OF THE LADS
"Thank my stars, I haven't lost my faculty of doing two things to
once, nor seein' a dozen!" cried Aunt Sally, as if in response to Mrs.
Trent's exclamation. Then she rose so hastily that her beloved
"pieces" fell on the floor and her spectacles slid from the end of her
nose, their habitual resting place. "There never was witches on this
ranch before, and I reckon I can deal with a few of them that's here
now. Edward Trent, Luis Garcia! Where you goin' at? Hey? Hear me? Come
right straight back to me this minute, if you know what's good for
yourselves!"
All were surprised by this outburst and awaited its result with
curiosity.
The two little boys had been suspiciously quiet on the farther end of
that long porch where the household practically lived. Mrs. Trent had
glanced their way, occasionally, but supposed them to be engrossed by
the patent whistle and top which had been found in Ephraim's pack,
neatly marked with their respective names. Yet one could not eat tops
nor whistles, and their elbows had been seen, from the rear, to move
in a suggestive manner.
"They're eatin' somethin' all this time. I wonder what!" had been Mrs.
Benton's private reflection. But when Jessica came back with her
report of the lost wand, the elbow action had suddenly ceased; and,
after what appeared to be a brief whispered consultation, they had
slunk away down the path, Ned trying to help Luis hide something
within his blouse, though not, apparently, succeeding.
At the sound of Aunt Sally's voice, indeed, they dropped the box they
had been secreting and burst into a paroxysm of giggling, as was their
customary receipt of her chiding. The giggle was always destined to
end in tears, but this never prevented its recurrence.
"Neddy Trent! If that bad little Garcia boy is doing wrong, it's no
need you should be naughty, too. Come back here and show poor auntie
what you've got in your blouses."
Wheedling had no more effect than scolding, for with one hug of each
other's necks, the children scampered onward, leaving their spoils
behind them.
Then Jessica followed to see what this might be, and exclaimed, in
some surprise:
"Candy! Where did it come from?"
Now, it happened that such sweets, except of homemade manufacture and
on rare occasions, were forbidden the lads, because they were always
made ill by them. That is, Luis suffered and Ned was not allowed
anything his playmate could not share. All the ranchmen knew Mrs.
Trent's wishes on the subject and heretofore none had ever gone
against them. Who had done it now?
Of course, suspicion instantly pointed to "Forty-niner," who
indignantly denied that he had brought, or even thought of bringing,
anything home which his beloved mistress did not wish there.
"Doesn't anybody trust me any more about anything?" he concluded,
wistfully.
The accusation had come from Mrs. Benton, but Gabriella hastened to
soothe the sharpshooter, saying:
"We're making mountains out of mole hills, I fear. There, Aunt Sally,
never mind. They have left so much behind them on the path that they
can hardly have eaten enough to harm them, anyway. Let them go,
please."
But the good woman would not drop the subject. Her sharp eyes had not
been given her for nothing, and her son always asserted that if his
mother had been a man she would have made a first-class detective.
Panting and puffing in her haste and curiosity, she hurried to the
spilled confections and carefully picked them up; then returned to the
porch, significantly holding forth, upon her palm, a specimen of what
she had discovered.
"Needn't tell me I didn't smell peppymint! Them's them peppymint
rounds with chocolate outsides that I never seen nobody eat, on this
ranch, 'cept Antonio Bernal. They ain't kept in the store to Marion,
and the storekeeper used to send for 'em to Los Angeles, 'specially
for his one customer. I know, Antonio offered me some, time and again,
on my other visits, but I always thanked him polite and said no. I
never did lay out to eat a snake's victuals, and that's what his'n
was."
"Oh, what a woman you are, Aunt Sally!" laughed Ephraim.
"Thank you. I hope I be; enough of one, anyhow, to see through a
millstone, when there's a hole in it. But you've come back so peart
and sassy, sharpshooter, I reckon I best go steep you a fresh dose of
picra. After I've learnt all them tackers can tell."
"Please, don't be stern with them, Aunt Sally," protested the mother.
"Whatever they've done is but natural. It would be too much to expect
them to refuse such a treat if it were offered them, and, maybe, John
brought it to them."
"John? My boy, John? After the raisin' he had! Well, you're on the
wrong track there and I'm on the right one. Antonio Bernal, or some
feller sneak of his, has been here at Sobrante, and you needn't touch
to tell me he hasn't. Wait; I'll find out now!" she ended, in triumph,
and again the others were obliged to laugh, though Mrs. Trent's brief
mirth closed with a sigh, which Jessica heard and understood.
"Oh! don't you fear, mother, dear. Aunt Sally wouldn't hurt either of
them, really; and, indeed, I don't know who would keep them in order
if she didn't try. What mischief one can't think of the other does,
and I'll run after her and see the thing out. Who knows but that they
can tell us something about the missing staff?"
The runaways had made a detour by way of the kitchen, and adjoining
the kitchen was the "cold closet," which was the refuge they sought,
and where already were stored some of the Christmas goodies. This
closet had but one door and a securely shuttered window, and once the
door was gained by the pursuer she would have the small miscreants in
a trap. This she had seen and this it was which had given her that
triumphant expression.
The captain also gained the pantry door just after it had closed
behind Mrs. Benton and her prisoners, and to her repeated request to
be admitted, received the enigmatical answer:
"Time enough when I've pumped these little cisterns dry."
"Are the children in there with you?"
"Certain."
"You won't hurt them, will you? Please don't punish them to-day. I
can't bear it."
To which the grim jailer responded:
"You go along back to 'Forty-niner,' Jessie darlin, and be happy.
We're all mighty comfortable in here and lots of good victuals, if so
be we get hungry. Plenty to drink, too, for I just brought in a crock
of fresh water to cool my eggs in. I've got my knittin' work and am as
happy as an oyster. Go back, for I ain't ready to talk yet. When I am
I'll come out and bring these naughty children with me."
So Jessica returned to her old friend's side; and in listening to his
talk about the hospital and the friends she had made there for
herself, as well as about Mr. Ninian Sharp and the lawyer, Morris
Hale, the evening quickly passed and bedtime came.
When the ranch mistress rose to say good-night, she went to the still
closed door of the closet, and asked:
"Aren't you coming out now, Aunt Sally?"
The old lady opened the door and pointed complacently to a distant
corner of the roomy apartment where, upon a pile of soft blankets that
had been stored within, lay the two little boys, sound asleep and the
picture of innocent comfort.
"There, Gabriella, you see they're all right. I wouldn't hurt a hair
of their bonny heads, not for another ranch as fine as this one.
But here them and me stay till I worm the truth out of 'em about
that candy and that magic staff. Where that candy come from that
there staff has gone. You hear me and believe me. Oh, I know what I
know! Good-night. Don't you worry. Me and them is all right, as I
said, and my head's level. I went to sleep a-watchin' t'other
time, but I shan't this. There's more in my mind than nonsense. This
chair is as comfortable as a lounge. I slipped out and got it from
the settin'-room when you all was talkin' so lively, just now, and
we're fixed. I may come out before daylight and I may stay till
doomsday; but come I shan't a single step, not to please even you
for whom I'd do and dare a good deal, and don't you doubt it, but
when my mind is sot it's sot, and sot it is this minute, an don't
you dast to let on to John Benton, or that sassy boy'd plague the
very life out of me, and you go right along to your own bed and take
Jessie with you, and----"
But Mrs. Trent stayed to hear no more. When Aunt Sally got started on
such a harangue as this, exhaustion of breath was her only limit. The
lady did not anticipate more than an hour's further imprisonment of
the children, if so long, and was sure that they would be even
tenderly cared for, no matter what their misdemeanors, if she did not
herself interfere. Yet daylight came and found the odd trio still
behind that closed door, and it opened only at breakfast time; when,
leading two very penitent-looking small boys and herself wearing the
air of a Roman conqueror, Mrs. Benton emerged from her seclusion upon
an expectant household.
"Well, Aunt Sally, haven't you 'wormed' them, as you promised? Poor
little tackers! they've lost their pride and spirit, and I love them.
Come to sister, darlings, and get your morning hugs!" cried Jessica,
as they appeared. Ephraim, close at hand, winked at them solemnly
and held up behind Mrs. Benton's back two most alluring marbles.
But they did not wink in response, nor give more than a furtive
smile, as they reluctantly dragged along under their guardian's
forcible guidance. Her route was direct to the watering trough
where, without ado, she promptly stripped, bathed and rubbed dry,
each shivering little figure. Then she reclothed and led them back to
the kitchen, placing them in high chairs beside the big deal table,
while she proceeded to cook their oatmeal and serve it to them, with
a bad-as-you-are-you-shan't-starve sort of air which would have
amused Jessica, had she not so heartily pitied her playmates.
After a time she could endure the sight no longer, but sped to Ned's
chair and clasped him fondly in her arms.
"What is the matter, brotherkin? Tell sister, do. Is it nothing but
that miserable candy? What else have you done to make auntie so angry
with you?"
Ned's bosom heaved and a mighty sob burst forth. But he instantly
repressed this sign of weakness, though unfortunately, not soon enough
to prevent Luis from echoing it with redoubled intensity.
Now nothing so quickly restores the self-possession, even of
grown-ups, as the sight of another's collapse; and no sooner had Luis
given vent to his emotion than Ned's spirit returned to him. Throwing
back his pretty head, with an air of unconquerable resolution, he
reached forth and pounded his mate smartly on the back.
"You, Luis Garcia, what you crying for? Isn't none of your staffs,
anyway."
"Ain't my old staffs, ain't," sobbed the "echo," for such he was often
nicknamed.
"Then you needn't cry, you needn't. I ain't crying, I ain't. Hate old
Aunt Sally. Hate 'Tonio. Hate Ferd. Hate everybody. Give me my
breakfast, old Aunt Sally Benton!"
"Hate Bentons!" agreed Luis, and flung his arms about his little
tyrant's throat till he choked from outward expression whatever more
might have issued thence.
"Ned! Why, Ned! I never, never knew you so naughty! Do tell me; what
has happened?"
Mrs. Benton glared at the culprit over her down-dropped spectacles in
a truly formidable manner, but the result was only a settled
stubbornness which nothing moved.
Seeing that pleading was hopeless, at present, and that Ned was in one
of his dogged fits, Jessica quietly walked away and began to help in
the preparation of the elder people's meal, as her mother liked to
have her do.
Meanwhile, Aunt Sally waited upon the children, piling their saucers
with the tasty porridge, moistened with Blandina's yellow cream and
plentifully sprinkled with sugar. They were healthy and unused to
grief, and the palatable food soon restored their good humor. They
seemed to forgive their venerable tormentor and fell to their
accustomed scrimmage with the utmost enjoyment; and this was
pleasanter for all concerned. However, even when they had eaten all
they could and were ready for outdoors and their morning fun, their
plans were nipped in the bud. Aunt Sally had a spare hand for each of
them and conducted them firmly to the dining room and a place upon
its lounge, while the family took their own food in what comfort they
could.
This was not so great Mrs. Trent's eyes would wander to the unhappy
pair--for they were once more gloomy and unsubdued--and old Ephraim
cast many glances thither, entreating by silent signals that they
should repent of whatever sin they had committed and be restored to
favor.
The meal past the family rose and, from her pocket, Mrs. Benton
produced two long strips of cloth, one of which she fastened about
each child's wrist, leaving its other end to tie to her own apron
belt.
Then she turned to the mother, whose tears were beginning to fall, and
said, severely:
"Gabriella, if I didn't love you as well as I love myself and better,
I'd let these children go and no more said. But they've done that no
punishin' won't reach, though maybe they'll give in after a spell. I
shan't hurt 'em nor touch to; but I shall keep 'em tied to me till
they tell me what I'm bound to know. So that's all. You've got enough
on your hands, with this funeral business and all that'll come, and
however we're goin' to feed another lot of visitors so soon after them
others, I declare I don't see. And me with these tackers tied to my
apron strings, the way they be!"
Mrs. Trent rose and left the room and Jessica slowly followed. Neither
of them could quite understand Aunt Sally's present behavior, nor why
she should wish to bother herself with two such hindrances to the
labor which must be accomplished.
But Ephraim lingered. He simply could not endure the sight of the
little ones' unhappiness, and quietly slipping a knife from his
pocket he coolly cut their leading strings, caught them up in his
strong arms and limped away before their captor had discovered her
loss.
But he put his head back inside the doorway to call out, reassuringly:
"Begging pardon, Mrs. Benton, I'll 'spell' you on the 'worming out'
business and promise they shan't leave my care till I hand 'em back to
you thoroughly 'pumped.' Come along, laddies. I've a mind to visit
every spot on this blessed ranch and--upon one condition--I've a mind
to take you with me. Want to hear?"
"Yes. What is it?" demanded Ned, already very happy at the exchange of
jailers.
"Only that you must explain what all this row and rumpus is about with
Aunt Sally."
Standing at the top of the steps, with one foot outstretched, old
"Forty-niner" paused and steadily regarded the small face above his
shoulder.
Ned returned the gaze with equal steadfastness, as if he were
pondering in his troubled mind the best course to pursue. Then,
because he might think more clearly so, he lifted his serious gaze to
the distance; and, at once, there burst from his quivering lips a cry
of fear:
"Oh, I see him! I see him! He's coming, like he said--to kill me--to
kill me! I dassent--I dassent!"