THE JOURNEY.
Aunt Dorcas was so intent on the plans for the future which had just
been formed, that she failed to observe the constraint which had been
put upon the boys by her coming.
There was in the little woman's mind only speculations concerning the
proposed addition to her family, which she believed, owing to the fact
that Joe had not had an opportunity of making the proper explanation,
would be permanent, and in connection with this was the making of the
garden.
Therefore it was she set about directing the young workmen in her
customary manner, determined that no more time should be spent on the
task than was absolutely necessary.
Aunt Dorcas had brought with her a small basket containing many tiny
packages, each neatly tied and labelled, and she had her own opinion as
to where the different kinds of seeds should be sown.
"George, you make the hills for the potatoes, while Joseph and I plant
the sweet corn."
It was necessary for her to speak twice before Master Plummer realised
she was addressing him, so unfamiliar did the name sound, and when he
finally became aware of the fact, he asked, in a careless tone, as if
planting potatoes were work with which he was thoroughly conversant:
"How many hills do you want, aunt Dorcas, an' how big do they generally
run out this way?"
"Put in four rows, and there is no need of making them very large until
after the plants are up."
Then aunt Dorcas went with Joe to the opposite side of the garden, and,
intent on having the corn planted after a certain peculiar fashion of
her own, gave no heed to what Plums was doing, for ten minutes or more;
but when she did observe that young gentleman's method of working, a cry
of surprise and disapproval burst from her lips.
"Whatever are you doing, George?"
"Makin' these hills, of course," Plums replied, quietly, without ceasing
his work of shovelling the soft earth up into huge mounds, each of which
was twelve or fifteen times as large as it should have been.
"Well, bless the boy, he don't even know how to plant potatoes!" and the
little woman regarded the results of Master Plummer's labour in dismay.
"Weren't you ever on a farm, George?"
"I never was so far in the country as this before in my life," and Plums
wiped the perspiration from his flushed face; for, strange as it may
seem, he had, during these few moments, been working quite
industriously.
[Illustration: "'WELL, BLESS THE BOY, HE DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO PLANT
POTATOES!'"]
"You need a hoe instead of a shovel, and the hills should be made
something like these," aunt Dorcas said, as she pointed to where Joe,
thanks to her minute instructions, was performing his part of the task
in almost a workmanlike manner.
Plums would have grumbled when the little woman insisted on his
demolishing the grotesque mounds which had cost him so much labour, but
that he remembered how dependent he was upon aunt Dorcas for food and
shelter, and held his peace.
The remainder of the work done on this afternoon was performed under
aunt Dorcas's personal supervision, for she soon came to understand that
her assistants were absolutely ignorant of such tasks, and, if left to
their own devices, even for a few moments at a time, would succeed only
in making blunders.
Thanks to her patience and Joe's willingness, however, the garden was
planted before sunset, and Master Plummer did but a small share of the
labour. After his exploit in building miniature mountains for
potato-hills, he became discouraged, and aunt Dorcas soon realised that
the task would progress more rapidly if he acted the part of spectator,
instead of farmer.
"There is considerably more work to be done; but we must put it off
until morning, for it is time to get supper now. Can you boys build a
fire better than you can plant a garden?"
Joe ran on ahead, to show what he could do in that line, and Plums
walked painfully by the side of aunt Dorcas towards the house.
"Whatever makes you limp so, George?" the little woman asked,
solicitously, and Master Plummer replied, with a long-drawn sigh:
"I don't know, 'less it is I'm all tired out. You see I never did much
farmin' before, an' it kind er strains me."
"Do you think you've been doing any now?" and aunt Dorcas looked up at
the fat boy, with an odd twinkle in her eye.
"Ain't that what we've been doin'?"
"It's what Joseph and I have been about; but you were lying down most of
the time. George, can it be possible you are lazy?"
"Some of the fellers say I am; but that's 'cause they don't know. It
tires me all out to move 'round very much."
"You look as if you never had any very active exercise; but there's one
thing we have to be thankful for: there isn't an indolent bone in
Joseph's body. If I had seen any symptoms of it, I don't believe I
should have had the courage to make such a change in my way of living as
we have decided upon."
Plums quickened his pace; he understood, both from her words and her
manner of speaking, that the little woman had no sympathy for "tired"
people, and the thought came into his mind that it was possible he might
not long remain an inmate of the cottage unless he proved he could be of
some service.
When they entered the kitchen Joe was building a fire in such a manner
as met with aunt Dorcas's warmest approval, and the glance she bestowed
upon him told Master Plummer, even more strongly than her words had
done, that he must exert himself if he wished to enjoy what he had
believed was a "soft snap."
After supper, on this evening, aunt Dorcas took up her knitting, the
boys seated themselves near the window, where they could see Dan, the
detective, if he should be so bold as to come again after Joe's warning,
and the three discussed the journey which the princess was to make on
the following day.
Aunt Dorcas thought it would be only right for Mrs. Weber to return
five-sevenths of the money which had been paid her to take care of the
child for one week; but the boys were doubtful whether the old lady
would take the same view of the case.
"I'll be willin' enough to let her keep it, so long's I can have the
princess with me," Joe said, finally, and aunt Dorcas reproved him,
gently.
"Remember, Joseph, 'a penny saved is better than a penny earned,' and
you should never be careless about money matters. If the German woman
has boarded the child only two days, there is no reason why she should
be paid for seven."
"Except that we gave her the money at the start, and she may say there's
no need to take princess away till the week is ended," Plums suggested,
sagely, and aunt Dorcas brought the argument to a close by saying,
severely:
"If she insists on keeping the whole dollar, I shall never look upon her
as an honest woman."
On this evening aunt Dorcas read two chapters, instead of one, and her
prayer was nearly twice as long as on the night previous.
Then, as before, she accompanied the boys up-stairs, to make certain
everything in the chamber was in proper order, although it was already
scrupulously clean, and when, after having bidden them "good night,"
they heard her light footsteps as she descended the stairs, Joe said,
with an air of perplexity:
"I'm dead certain we don't do the right thing when she's prayin'."
"I didn't make any noise," Plums replied, indignantly.
"Course you didn't, else I'd thumped your head. I'd like to see the
feller that would kick up a row, or even so much as laugh while aunt
Dorcas was prayin'. What I mean is, that we ought'er do somethin',
instead of settin' up there like a couple of chumps, an' she on her
knees. Do you s'pose it would be right for us to kneel down when she
does?"
"I don't know. It couldn't do much harm, I s'pose, an' if you think it
would please her any better, why, I'm willin' to stay on my knees half a
day."
"We'll try it to-morrer night, and see how she takes it. Say, I've found
out what them towels are for. Aunt Dorcas had one side of her plate, an'
she wiped her mouth on it."
"Perhaps she didn't have a handkerchief."
"Now, look here, Plums, you don't s'pose that a woman what's so slick
an' clean as aunt Dorcas is would go 'round without a handkerchief, do
you?"
"It seems as though she must, if she used the towel; but that ain't
botherin' me half so much jest now as Dan Fernald is. I reckon he's
pretty near wild by this time, an' it would be a terrible thing if the
perlice should come an' drag us out of this place, wouldn't it?"
"I ain't afraid he'll kick up a row. That detective business is all in
his eye. He don't 'mount to any more'n Sim Jepson does, when it comes to
law matters."
"But he might do something for all that."
"If he does, it can't be helped. We'll know, whatever happens to us,
that princess has got a good home."
"Of course, there's somethin' in that; but, all the same, I'd rather
know _I_ was goin' to stay in a good one," and Master Plummer crept
between the lavender-scented sheets with an expression of most intense
satisfaction upon his face.
Day had but just dawned, when Joe Potter awakened after a long and
restful sleep.
"Come, turn out, Plums," he said, as he shook his friend roughly. "I'm
goin' down-stairs to build a fire for aunt Dorcas before she gets up,
an' you'd better come along. If we're goin' to eat her food an' sleep in
her bed, it stands us in hand to try to pay our way."
Master Plummer promised to get up in "two minutes" but the fire had been
built, and breakfast was nearly ready, when he made his appearance.
Aunt Dorcas had made no remark, when she came down-stairs and found Joe
performing such of the household duties as he was familiar with; but he
knew, by the expression on her face, that she was pleased, and this was
sufficient reward for having left the rest-inviting bed at such an early
hour.
According to the arrangements made on the previous evening, Joe was to
set out on his three-mile journey immediately after breakfast, and, as
soon as the meal was brought to a close, aunt Dorcas made up a
reasonably large parcel of seed-cakes and doughnuts, intended, as she
explained, to serve as lunch for the travellers.
"But I won't be hungry, aunt Dorcas, 'cause I'm about as full as I can
be, now, an' the princess couldn't eat all you've got there if she tried
for a week."
"I dare say you won't be sorry for taking it," and Joe made no further
protest.
Aunt Dorcas actually kissed him, much to his embarrassment, as he left
the house, and called after him, while he was yet in the lane:
"Don't try to make the child walk too far, Joseph, and be careful not to
carry her very long at a time. You've got plenty of food, even if you
shouldn't get back until nightfall, and it's better to go slowly than
overtax yourself."
Perhaps never before in his life had Joe Potter been cautioned against
undue exertion, and he fully appreciated the little woman's
solicitousness.
"If I was any kind of a feller, I'd turn to an' tell her the whole
story, but I don't dare to, for fear she'd believe I'd done somethin'
awful wicked, an' turn me out of the house. Of course it's got to come
some day, but it'll be tough,--mighty tough."
There was but little room for bitter thoughts in Joe's mind on this
June morning when it seemed good to be alive, and before he had
traversed half a mile he put far from him all forebodings, thinking only
of what he would do to add to the comfort of aunt Dorcas, and the
happiness of the princess.
There was in his mind a well-defined idea that it was his duty to search
for the child's parents, but he wholly failed to realise the mental
anguish which must be theirs while in ignorance of the baby's
whereabouts, and believed there was no especial reason why he should
inconvenience himself to find them.
"If she wasn't all right, it would be different," he said, arguing with
himself. "After we get her into aunt Dorcas's home, she couldn't be
fixed any better if she was living with the President, so of course her
folks won't fuss so awfully much about her."
He enjoyed this journey, because every step was bringing him nearer to
the princess, whose devoted slave he was, and the tramp of three miles
came to an end before he was conscious of having walked one-third of the
distance.
He had arrived within sight of Mrs. Weber's home, and was hoping to
catch a glimpse of the princess's curly head in the window, when some
one stepped deliberately in front of him, barring his passage.
"Hello, Dan, ain't you gone back to the city yet?" he cried, in
surprise, as he recognised the amateur detective.
"I started last night, an' if I'd got there, you an' Plums would be in
jail by this time; but I wasn't such a chump as to run right over
without findin' out if things had been goin' wrong. You think I don't
'mount to anything as a detective, eh? Well, jest look at this, an' see
what would have happened if I'd gone there same's you'd done!"
As he ceased speaking Dan handed his friend a copy of an evening paper,
folded in such a manner that a certain advertisement stood out
prominently.
Joe's face paled, as he read the following lines:
One hundred dollars will be paid for information concerning
the whereabouts of a fruit vendor known as Joseph Potter,
and two newsboys, one of whom answers to the nickname of
"Plums," and the other known as Dan Fernald. The above
reward will be paid to any one who will secure for the
undersigned an interview with either of the boys named.
Address Cushman & Morton, Attorneys at Law, 47-1/2 Pine
Street, New York.
As before, he failed to see immediately below this an advertisement
requesting information concerning a little girl who had strayed from the
Grand Central Depot, and offering one thousand dollars reward for the
same.
"You see I got myself into a scrape tryin' to help you through and how's
it turned out! You wouldn't so much as give me a bite to eat when I was
starvin', even when you had plenty of it without costin' a cent. Now, if
I'm caught, I've got to go to jail, jest the same's if I'd done whatever
you did."
"But I haven't done anything crooked, Dan. I can't so much as guess what
these lawyers want me for."
"Oh, you tell that to the marines! Fellers what get so swell they can't
sell papers for a living, but splurge out into a fruit store, with a
clerk, an' all them things, have to get money somehow. I don't say as
you've robbed a bank, 'cause I don't see how you could get into one; but
it must be something pretty nigh as bad, else who'd offer a hundred
dollars jest to get hold of you? I ain't so certain but I shall snoop in
that cash, an' take the chances of goin' to jail."
"I don't s'pose it's any use for me to keep on tellin' you I've been
straight ever since I started out sellin' papers," Joe said, sadly.
"It's true all the same, though, an' you can't find a feller what'll say
I ever did him out of one cent."
"That's all in my eye, 'cause here's the advertisement what proves
different. All I want to know is, how am _I_ goin' to get out of the
scrape?"
"I wish I could tell you."
"If you did, I s'pose you'd say, 'Get over to the city, an' let them do
what they want to with you; but don't hang 'round me,' same's you did
yesterday."
"Dan, I never believed the lawyers would know you had come away with us,
'cause it didn't seem reasonable, an' it's terrible to have you countin'
on livin' with aunt Dorcas, when she is feedin' two of us already."
"What's the reason _you_ couldn't step out an' let _me_ have the snap
for a spell? _I_ ain't been stealin' money! _I_ wasn't advertised for,
till I took up _your_ case! No, that don't suit you; but _I_ must be the
one to starve, an' sneak 'round anywhere I can, while _you're_ bein'
filled up with custard pie, an' sleepin' on a bed so soft that Plums
thought it was feathers. You make me tired, you do!"
"See here, Dan, I'm willing to do anything you say, now that you're
really in the scrape with us. Go to aunt Dorcas an' tell her I couldn't
come back. Perhaps she'll take you in my place."
"Perhaps she will, an' perhaps she won't. I s'pose you've been coddlin'
the old woman up so she thinks there's nobody in the world but Joe
Potter; an' I wouldn't want to bet a great deal of money that you
haven't been tellin' her I'm a chump, an' all that kind of stuff, so she
wouldn't look at me if I should go there."
"I never told her so much as your name--"
"Where are you goin'?" Dan interrupted, suspiciously.
"To get the princess; aunt Dorcas said I might bring her there."
"So! You felt awful bad about lettin' your aunt Dorcas feed three when
_I_ was 'round starvin', yet you can make it three by luggin' in your
bloomin' princess."
"Havin' a little baby in the house is different from a big boy like you,
Dan. There's no use for us to stand here chinnin' about it. I'm ready to
say I'm sorry for the way I talked to you yesterday, an' I'll 'gree
never to go back to aunt Dorcas's. Now, what more can I do?"
"But I want you to go back," Dan replied, angrily.
"What for?"
"I'm no chump, Joe Potter, an' I know what kind of a stew would be
served up to me if I went there alone. I want you to go an' introduce me
to the family."
"It's a dead sure thing, Dan, we can't all live there. You know Plums
won't work any more'n he has to, an' we're jest spongin' right off of a
poor woman what ain't got enough for herself."
"It ain't any worse for me than it is for you."
Joe was in a pitiable frame of mind.
Believing that Dan was being searched for by the attorneys simply
because of what he had done in the affair, Joe considered the amateur
detective had such a claim upon him as could not be resisted; yet, at
the same time, he was determined not to add a fourth member to aunt
Dorcas's family.
"Dan, you go an' tell her all I said,--tell her the whole truth if you
want to,--an' most likely she'll let you stay; but I can't ask her to
open up a reg'lar 'sylum for us fellers. Course I'm bound to do anything
you say, seein's you got into this trouble through me; but I won't 'gree
to sponge a livin' off the best woman that ever lived, when there's
three others doin' the same thing."
"Look here, you've _got_ to go back with me."
Joe was in deepest distress, and after a pause of several seconds he
said, slowly:
"If you lay right down on my goin' to her house with you, I'll do it;
but I won't stay there a single minute. The princess can be left where
she is till I get back."
Now was the time when Dan Fernald could exert his authority with effect,
and he said, sharply:
"If you go back without the kid, the old woman'll lay it to me. Now this
is what you've _got_ to do. Take your bloomin' princess, an' act jest
the same as if you hadn't met me. I'll wait till your aunt Dorcas gets
through fussin' over the kid, an' then I'll flash up. Tell her I'm one
of your friends, an' we'll see how she takes it."
"But I don't want to do that, Dan," Joe cried, in distress.
"You must, or I'll have to go to jail, an' when it comes to anything
like that, the whole boilin' of us are in it. Go ahead, an' get the
kid."
Joe was no longer able, because of his sorrow and perplexity, to contend
against the amateur detective, and, without making any further reply, he
walked slowly towards Mrs. Weber's home, his heart heavier even than on
that morning when he first read the advertisement which seemingly
branded him as a criminal.