A Twisted Conscience
BY the time Dave returned, Aunty Jane had been separated from Terrible
Tim and a large number of loose quills. All the others had embarked,
but Aunty Jane, breathing dire threats, still lingered to look for
Marjory.
"Are you sure," asked Henrietta, sincerely, "that she didn't go aboard
with that last boat-load? I don't think she was here when poor Timothy
tumbled out of that tree."
"_Did_ he tumble?" snapped Aunty Jane. "_I_ think he jumped."
At this moment, Dave--the only person who knew exactly how Terrible Tim
happened to land where he did--joined in the search for Marjory.
"Ah'm smell pooty good," asserted crafty Dave, crawling about on
all-fours and making an elaborate pretense of sniffing at the sand,
"and Ah'm sure dose gal ees mak' som' track for dose boat."
"Hi there!" shouted Mr. Black, from the beach. "Captain says he can't
wait a moment longer--other boat's halfway home by now. Or are you
going to stay with us, Miss Higgins? There's plenty of room."
"No, I'm _not_," snapped Aunty Jane, fleeing down the bank. "With your
dirty Indians and your flying beasts this is no place for a decent
woman."
It is said that one disagreeable person in camp can spoil the very
pleasantest party, and the saying must be true, for with Aunty Jane
at Pete's Patch nothing had seemed quite right--the luster was gone
from everything--even the sky. But, as Captain Berry's delayed launch
began the determined chug-chugging that soon carried the little boat
into deeper water, everybody on shore breathed a sigh of relief; and
overhead, as Henrietta pointed out, laughingly, a tiny patch of gold
glimmered among the clouds.
"They say," mused Mr. Black, "that living close to Nature brings out
all your traits more strongly."
"Yes, Peter," laughed Mrs. Crane, "I've noticed that you're lazier here
than you were in town."
"I was thinking," returned Mr. Black, with dignity, "that folks with
sharp tongues and twisted tempers ought never to venture into the
woods."
Aunty Jane was a good mile from shore before Dave turned, with his
wickedest grin, toward the castaways.
"Come wit' me," he invited. "Ah'm fool dose aunt lady, Ah'm t'ink."
"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Black.
"Come wit' me," repeated Dave, with the most complacent of smiles.
"Ah'm show you som' deer in a trap--Ah'm snare heem just now."
Of course Mr. Black and the girls wanted to see so unusual a sight as
a trapped deer; but when they discovered that the deer was a dear,
their own beloved Marjory, their astonishment was great. And of course
they were no less surprised to see Rosa Marie and Mahjigeezigoqua, her
almost unspellable mother.
"Marjory!" gasped Jean. "We thought you were on the boat!"
"Marjory," panted Mabel. "All your clothes _are_ on that boat."
"These aren't," returned Marjory, indicating what she had on. "And my
skin isn't--I can wear that, if I have to."
"Granny brought me loads of things," assured Henrietta. "I guess you
won't need to come down to skin."
"Marjory," demanded Mr. Black, rather severely for so mild a man, "do
you mean to say that you were naughty enough to deliberately hide from
Aunty Jane?"
Marjory colored, but remained silent. It occurred to her suddenly that
telling the truth would seem a good deal like disloyalty to Dave--Dave,
who had been her friend. As Marjory was not in the habit of fibbing,
she didn't know what to say.
"Eef dose gal won't ron away on herself," explained Dave, promptly
exonerating Marjory from all blame, "me, Ah'm mus' ron away wit' heem.
Ah'm pull heem into de bush and ron, ron lak' de dev' (devil). Hey,
li'le gal; Ah'm good frien' to you, hey? An' now dose aunt, w'at smell
too strong wit' hees nose, ees gone two-t'ree mile, Ah'm t'ink."
"Dave," queried Mr. Black, shaking his head soberly, "is there any way
of discovering what you _do_ think? Are you all rascal or are you part
angel--with the angel part very much disguised? I can't make you out."
But this was too deep for Dave.
"Ah'm t'ink," replied Dave, replying to only the first part of Mr.
Black's question, "dat dose poor li'le Margy ees don't want to go home
wit' hees aunt. Me, Ah'm not care for go home wit' dose aunt maself."
At this the delighted girls shrieked with mirth, for the idea of Aunty
Jane taking Dave home with her would have amused even Dave's solemn
dog. Mr. Black, however, still frowned slightly, for Dave puzzled him.
"Dave," said he, "you're altogether too full of tricks. I suppose you
don't know what courtesy toward a woman means; but you've certainly
been ruder than you should have been to poor Miss Higgins. You'll have
to go to Lakeville to-night and tell that poor woman that Marjory is
safe--perhaps I'd better write her a note so she won't blame Marjory."
"Ah'm go right off," agreed Dave, cheerfully. "Maybe Ah'm find som'
more queelt on hees line."
"Dave, you incorrigible rascal," stormed Mr. Black, "you let that
lady's clothesline alone. Steal one off _my_ line, if you must have a
quilt--I'm better able to spare it."
"Ah'm good frien' to _you_," protested Dave, earnestly, with the
outstretched hand of good-fellowship. "You shake hon dat?"
"I hope you are," returned Mr. Black, shaking the proffered hand. "But,
Dave, your conscience is like that river--no one could possibly map
its windings. And after this, my man, you must be a good friend to my
_friends_, as well as to me. Now let's go back to camp and see what our
Billy boy is doing."
Dave, evidently somewhat troubled, for he still had an unconfessed
misdeed on his mind, followed the castaways back to the clearing. They
found Mrs. Crane sitting disconsolately on the bench outside her tent.
"That boy's so blue," she confided, advancing to meet them, "that I'm
staying outside to give him a chance to cry. I guess he thought the
doctor was going to cure him right off and he's terribly disappointed."
"Couldn't we tell him about Dave and Aunty Jane?" queried Bettie. "That
ought to cheer anybody--just think, Mrs. Crane, Dave hid Marjory in his
wigwam, with Rosa Marie and her mother."
"Rosa Marie! And didn't Marjory go on the boat?"
"No, Marjory's back there with Mabel and Rosa Marie--she's Dave's
niece."
"Dave's niece! Well, well----"
"I guess Dave doesn't like Aunty Jane," interrupted Henrietta. "I can't
be sure--it was all so exciting just then--but I _think_ Dave slid down
the trunk of one of those big trees just after Terrible Tim landed
between Aunty Jane and that bundle."
"She might have been badly hurt," said Mrs. Crane, indignantly. "Dave,
come here a moment--I want to talk to you. Did you drop that porcupine
into Miss Higgins' lap?"
"Eef som' porkypine ees go for drop," returned Dave, whimsically, "eet
ees good dat he ees land on som' sof' plass. Som' tam', Ah'm tole,
she's rain cat an' dog; som' tam' she's rain porkypine. W'at for? Me,
Ah'm can't tole you. De sky she ees made dose way."
"Well," warned Mrs. Crane, "you'd better see to it, Dave, that it
doesn't rain any more porcupines--I don't like such tricks."
"Ah'm not please nobody," sighed Dave, dolefully, "w'en Ah'm try all
day to help all dose body."
"But, Dave," remonstrated Mrs. Crane, "you do so many wrong things. You
stole that quilt from Miss Higgins' line, didn't you?"
"Yas," replied Dave. "Dose blanket, too."
"Dave, you poor benighted creature! Don't you know it's wrong to steal?"
"Yas," admitted incorrigible Dave, with an unmistakable twinkle in his
eye. "Ah'm t'ink so, w'en som'body ees eat up all dose venison of me.
She's very bad for stole all dose meat--Me, Ah'm have no dinnaire, me.
Halso, Ah'm got no suppaire, Ah'm _sop_pose. Mus' break som' more game
law----"
"Dave!" cried Mrs. Crane, contritely. "You sit right down at that table
and I'll give you the best meal you ever ate."
"But," mourned the wily half-breed, seating himself, nevertheless,
"Rosa Marie, ma sistaire, too, mus' dose two starve?"
"Why--why, no!" gasped Mrs. Crane. "I'll fix something for them, too."
"Som' day," promised Dave, sincerely, "Ah'm geeve you som' good fat
moskrat."
Too polite to say so, Mrs. Crane hoped fervently that Dave would forget
that promise; she was quite certain that she wouldn't enjoy eating a
"good fat muskrat," or even a very thin one.