CAUGHT AT LAST
Meanwhile Bert and his father were keeping on with the search for Baby
May. Once they saw an old woman going along the road ahead of them,
carrying a sack over her back.
“Oh, maybe she has Baby May in that bag!” cried Bert.
His father hardly thought so, but speeded up the auto until they reached
the old woman.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“Have you a baby in that sack?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.
“Goodness, no! I should hope not,” answered the woman, with a laugh.
“I’ve got potatoes in here. Why would I be carrying a baby?”
Then Mr. Bobbsey explained that he and Bert were looking for a kidnapper
and they inquired of the “potato woman,” as they called her, whether she
had seen anything of Baby May.
“No, I haven’t,” she answered. “I’ve just been after these potatoes,
that’s all.”
As the bag was heavy, Mr. Bobbsey gave the woman and her potatoes a ride
to the woman’s house.
“Thank you,” she said, as she got down. “I hope you find that kidnapper
and the baby.”
“We may get some news of her in the morning,” said Mr. Bobbsey, for it
was now getting on toward night.
The two in the automobile kept on to the next town where Mr. Bobbsey had
decided to stay all night. There was little use in going farther, and
they could get no news of the strange woman by inquiring at the
post-office and the stores.
Bert and his father went to the one hotel in the place, and from there
they telephoned back to Mrs. Bobbsey at Pine Hill, telling her their
plans.
“I don’t suppose you have any news, have you?” asked Mr. Bobbsey of his
wife over the wire. “Did Jim Denton get any clews?”
“Yes,” she answered. “He found some persons who had seen the old woman,
carrying a bundle, going down the road. That was the baby, I’m sure. But
Jim lost trace of the woman. Very likely she got a ride in some auto.
But he’s going to keep right on with the search.”
“If she went down his part of the road, then there isn’t much use in our
keeping on this way,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “Bert and I will return in the
morning.”
So it was decided. Bert was rather sorry his adventure had come to such
an end, for he hoped they might get some trace of the strange woman in
the direction he and his father had taken, but it was not to be.
In the morning Mr. Bobbsey and Bert went back to Pine Hill, reaching
there about ten o’clock. Soon after they arrived they had a telephone
message from Mr. Denton.
“The old woman was seen around the town of Cardley,” the constable said.
“You’d better go over there, and I’ll meet you. I don’t know her and I
might make a mistake and pick out the wrong one.”
“I’ll know that old woman again, if I see her!” exclaimed Bert.
“And I’ll know Baby May,” added his father.
“Oh, can’t I go with you?” begged Nan, as her father and brother were
about to start off again.
“You might take her with you,” suggested Mrs. Bobbsey. “If you do get
Baby May back Nan can take care of her.”
So Nan was allowed to go. Flossie and Freddie cried and begged to go
also, but this was not permitted. However, their mother promised to take
them on a picnic to pass the time until the others should return.
Constable Jim Denton proved to be a good detective. He had finally got
trace of the old woman carrying the baby, and he found that, as had been
thought, she had been given a ride—a “lift,” the constable called
it—by a kind farmer.
“He left her in Cardley, and she said she was going to stay there all
night,” Mr. Denton explained.
Mr. Bobbsey made good speed to Cardley and found the constable there
waiting for him.
“Where is the old woman?” asked Mr. Bobbsey, as he met the constable at
the village hotel.
“She’s stopping at a farmhouse just outside the town,” he said. “I
located her, but I didn’t want to make any move to arrest her, for fear
she’d get excited and maybe hurt the baby, or steal off again. She’s
pretty well tired out, from what I hear, and I guess it will be an easy
matter to catch her.”
“Is Baby May all right?” Nan asked anxiously.
“Oh, bless your heart, yes!” replied Mr. Denton. “I guess the old woman
took good care of the baby.”
They all went out to the farmhouse in Mr. Bobbsey’s automobile, as the
constable said his little car had a flat tire. As they approached the
place Nan and Bert saw, standing out in the front yard, a figure they
well knew.
It was that of the strange old woman they had first seen passing their
house and later sneaking around Pine Hill. As soon as the woman, who was
without her shawl now and who did not have an umbrella, saw them, she
made a dash toward the house.
But Jim Denton was too quick for her. Leaping from the automobile while
it was still moving, he caught her by the arm and cried:
“No, you don’t! We have you now! You can’t get away with the baby
again!”
The old woman did not struggle. Indeed, now that she was caught, she
seemed very calm and not at all queer.
“Very well,” she said. “I am not going to run away. You will find
everything all right. I have a very good claim to this baby.”
“That you’ll have to explain to the police,” said Mr. Bobbsey, in a
stern voice. “Where is Baby May?”
“Her name isn’t May. It’s Jenny,” returned the old woman, with a faint
smile. “Jenny Watson. If you’ll come in I’ll explain everything.”
Wonderingly the two Bobbsey twins followed their father, the constable
and the old woman into the farmhouse. The old woman suddenly burst into
tears as she was about to open the door of a room.
“I hope nothing has happened to Baby May,” said Mr. Bobbsey, for he and
his wife had grown to love the baby very much.
“Oh, no, Jenny is all right. She is asleep, I think,” said the old
woman. “But I feel so bad over all that has happened. It wasn’t exactly
my fault—I couldn’t help it. But if I had not gotten the baby back! Oh,
it would have been terrible!” She wiped away her tears.
“Don’t feel bad,” said Mr. Bobbsey kindly. “Of course I don’t understand
it at all—why you should abandon the baby and then kidnap her—but—”
“Hush!” whispered the old lady, putting her finger to her lips as she
stepped into the darkened room. Softly she raised the curtain, and there
on a bed Nan and the others saw the baby sweetly sleeping.
“Oh, the little darling!” murmured Nan. “I’m so glad we have her back!”
“Well, my dear,” whispered the old woman, “I’m afraid I can’t let you
have her back. You see she has a father and mother of her own, and they
will want their baby.”
“Then you aren’t the mother?” asked Mr. Bobbsey, more and more puzzled
over the matter.
“No, I am not Jenny’s mother,” was the answer. “If you will come into
the next room, where we can talk without waking baby, I’ll tell you the
story. It is a very strange one.”
“Well,” said Mr. Bobbsey, when they were all seated in a pleasant room
of the farmhouse where, the old woman said, she had engaged board for
herself and the baby, “we are now ready for the story. And then I must
telephone to my wife that the baby is all right.”
“Your wife took very good care of Jenny, and I want to thank her when I
see her,” said the old woman. “Now I will be as short as I can.
“My name,” she said, “is Sarah Martin. I have been a widow for a number
of years. Several months ago my cousin, Mrs. Henry Watson, came to me
and said her husband had to go to South America on a business trip, and
she felt that she ought to go with him, as he was not in very good
health.
“They did not think it would be safe to take the baby to South America
with them, so I agreed to look after little Jenny—that’s her real
name—Jenny Watson.”
“We called her May Washington Bobbsey,” said Bert.
“We did that,” explained his father, “because we found her on the first
day of May, and we understood from the railroad men that you had given a
name that sounded like Washington.”
“Wassingham was my name before I was married,” explained Mrs. Martin.
“Very likely I gave that name when I was out of my mind—partly crazy, I
guess I must have been—and they understood me to say Washington.”
“Was that on account of the baby?” asked the constable.
“No, not exactly. But the fact that I had lost Jenny made me feel
worse,” replied Mrs. Martin. “Well, as I was telling you, my cousin and
her husband went to South America and left Jenny with me. They were to
be gone about six months, and they are now on their way home. If I
hadn’t been able to get Jenny for them before they arrived, I don’t know
what I would have done!
“Everything went along nicely for the first month. I kept Jenny with me
in my home at Blakeville, and she grew and thrived. Then, one day, when
I was cleaning a closet, some dishes fell on my head. I was knocked
unconscious, and when I was able to get up I had a queer feeling. I
wasn’t myself. I seemed to have forgotten my name, and all I could
remember about the baby was a feeling that I ought to get rid of her.
“So, not really knowing what I was doing, I put her in a basket, wrapped
a shawl around myself, and, taking a green umbrella, I set out. I had
only one idea in mind—to leave the baby at some house where there were
other children. I must have felt that in such a place she would be well
taken care of.
“I took the train from my home to your town, though I don’t remember
anything about getting off the train. I do remember, though, tramping
around in the rain. I saw some children’s faces at a window, and I made
up my mind that would be a good house at which to leave the baby.”
“That was our house,” murmured Nan.
“Yes, dearie, that must have been your house,” said Mrs. Martin. “Well,
once I had picked out the house, I lingered around until after dark, and
then, making sure the baby was well protected in the basket, I left her
on your doorstep and, ringing the bell, slipped off in the rain and
darkness. I hid myself and watched to see if the door would be opened,
and when it wasn’t, I went softly up again and rang the bell a second
time.”
“We thought it was the lightning making the bell ring,” explained Bert,
“for we couldn’t see any one on the steps.”
“No, I slipped away as soon as I rang the bell, and I suppose you didn’t
notice the basket in the darkness,” said Mrs. Martin. “But after I had
rung the bell the second time I felt sure you would take in the baby, so
I slipped away for good.
“What happened for several weeks after that, I don’t remember. But
finally some one noticed that I was acting queerly, and I was taken to a
hospital, and there I was cured. Then when I remembered what I had
done—taken Baby Jenny away and deserted her—I went nearly crazy again.
I tried to remember where I had left her, but for a long time I
couldn’t. Then, when I did get to your house, I watched my chance to
take the baby away again.”
“Why didn’t you come in and tell us your story?” asked Mr. Bobbsey. “We
would have given you back the baby had we known.”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me,” answered Mrs. Martin. “So I
watched my chance. I managed to find out that you had gone to Pine Hill,
and I followed you there. Then I kept on waiting for an opportunity to
take back the baby, as I had a right to do. At last, yesterday, my
chance came. I saw Baby Jenny asleep in her carriage, I slipped up and
took her out. Then I slipped away, hiding in the woods until after dark,
and getting a ride until I reached this place.
“I thought everything would be all right and that I could restore the
baby to her parents, who are expected home in a few days. But when I saw
you coming I feared you would take her away from me again, so I rushed
in here. Then I decided to tell you the whole story. I knew I had a
right to the baby, now that my mind is well again.”
“Of course you have a right to the baby until her parents come,” said
Mr. Bobbsey. “It has been a queer mix-up all around, and I am very sorry
for you. Have you written to Mr. and Mrs. Watson?”
“I didn’t write and tell them I had lost the baby,” answered Mrs.
Martin. “I didn’t dare do that. But I had a cablegram from them asking
how Jenny was, and to-day I sent them a message, saying she was well.
For indeed she is. Your wife took very good care of her. Oh, I am so
sorry for all the trouble I have caused,” and the old woman wept again.
“You couldn’t help it,” said Mr. Bobbsey kindly. “Perhaps you had better
come back and stay with my wife until Mr. and Mrs. Watson arrive from
South America. Bring Baby Jenny and stay with us.”
“Oh, yes, please do!” begged Nan. “We won’t know what to do without Baby
May—I mean Baby Jenny!” she quickly corrected herself.
“All right, I’ll do that,” said Mrs. Martin.
The children were very excited and began making plans for taking care of
the infant. They were to get good practise for their next adventure to
be known as “The Bobbsey Twins Keeping House.”
Before going to the farm, they telephoned the news to Mrs. Bobbsey at
Pine Hill, and there was a happy meeting when, once more, the baby was
with those who had cared for the little foundling.
“You poor woman! How you must have suffered,” said Mrs. Bobbsey to Mrs.
Martin, after having heard the story.
“You will never know how terrible it was when I realized that I had
given the baby away—left her on a strange doorstep. And then I couldn’t
remember for a long while where it was!” said Mrs. Martin. “But now it
has all ended happily.”
And so it had, for a few days later the ship bearing Mr. and Mrs. Watson
came in from South America, and the parents made a quick trip out to
Pine Hill, where the mother gathered into her arms the baby who had gone
through so many strange adventures.
No one blamed Mrs. Martin, for it was an accident, though undoubtedly if
she had come to the Bobbseys and explained everything, instead of trying
to kidnap the baby, it would have been much better. But, as she said,
she hardly knew what she was doing.
“Well, I wish we could keep the baby,” said Nan. “But maybe something
else will happen pretty soon.”
“Maybe,” agreed Bert. “Anyhow, it was exciting while it lasted.” And the
other Bobbsey twins agreed with this.
THE END
THE
BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS
_by_ Laura Lee Hope
These are books that charm boys and girls between the ages of three and
ten. Many of the adventures of these famous twins are comical in the
extreme, and all the accidents and incidents that ordinarily happen to
youthful personages happen to these many-sided little mortals.
THE BOBBSEY TWINS
IN THE COUNTRY KEEPING HOUSE
AT THE SEASHORE AT CLOVERBANK
AT SCHOOL AT CHERRY CORNERS
AT SNOW LODGE AND THEIR SCHOOLMATES
ON A HOUSEBOAT TREASURE HUNTING
AT MEADOW BROOK AT SPRUCE LAKE
AT HOME WONDERFUL SECRET
IN A GREAT CITY AT THE CIRCUS
ON BLUEBERRY ISLAND ON AN AIRPLANE TRIP
ON THE DEEP BLUE SEA SOLVE A MYSTERY
IN WASHINGTON ON A RANCH
IN THE GREAT WEST IN ESKIMO LAND
AT CEDAR CAMP IN A RADIO PLAY
AT THE COUNTY FAIR AT WINDMILL COTTAGE
CAMPING OUT AT LIGHTHOUSE POINT
BABY MAY AT INDIAN HOLLOW
GROSSET & DUNLAP
_Publishers_ NEW YORK
THE
HONEY BUNCH BOOKS
_by_ Helen Louise Thorndyke
Honey Bunch is a dainty, thoughtful little girl, and to know her is to
take her to your heart at once. Little girls everywhere will want to
discover what interesting experiences she is having wherever she goes.
HONEY BUNCH:
JUST A LITTLE GIRL HER FIRST TRIP IN AN AEROPLANE
HER FIRST VISIT TO THE CITY HER FIRST VISIT TO THE ZOO
HER FIRST DAYS ON THE FARM HER FIRST BIG ADVENTURE
HER FIRST VISIT TO THE SEASHORE HER FIRST BIG PARADE
HER FIRST LITTLE GARDEN HER FIRST LITTLE MYSTERY
HER FIRST DAY IN CAMP HER FIRST LITTLE CIRCUS
HER FIRST AUTO TOUR HER FIRST LITTLE TREASURE HUNT
HER FIRST TRIP ON THE OCEAN HER FIRST LITTLE CLUB
HER FIRST TRIP WEST HER FIRST TRIP IN A TRAILER
HER FIRST SUMMER ON AN ISLAND HER FIRST TRIP TO A BIG FAIR
HER FIRST TRIP ON THE GREAT LAKES HER FIRST TWIN PLAYMATES
GROSSET & DUNLAP
_Publishers_ NEW YORK
Stories of Fun and Friendship
THE MAIDA BOOKS
by INEZ HAYNES IRWIN
MAIDA’S LITTLE SHOP
In a darling little shop of her own Maida makes many friends with the
school children who buy her fascinating wares.
MAIDA’S LITTLE HOUSE
All of her friends spend a happy summer in Maida’s perfect little house
that has everything a child could wish for.
MAIDA’S LITTLE SCHOOL
Three delightful grownups come to visit and the children study many
subjects without knowing that they are really “going to school.”
MAIDA’S LITTLE ISLAND
Great is the joy of the Big Eight when Maida’s father takes them for a
vacation to _Spectacles_, where exploring the island provides endless
fun and many thrilling adventures.
MAIDA’S LITTLE CAMP
High in the Adirondacks the four boys and four girls of the Big Eight
spend a glorious month of fun and discovery.
GROSSET & DUNLAP : _Publishers_ : NEW YORK
THE
LITTLE INDIAN SERIES
_by_ David Cory
The beauty of Indian legend—the thrill of Indian adventure—the poetry
of the Indian’s religion, and, above all, the sturdy manhood and the
idealism of the Indian boy will be an inspiration to every child.
LITTLE INDIAN LONE STAR
WHITE OTTER RAVEN WING
RED FEATHER HAWK EYE
STAR MAIDEN CHIPPEWA TRAIL
GROSSET & DUNLAP
_Publishers_ NEW YORK
THE CHILDREN’S
HOUR BOOKS
_Delightful story books by well-known authors,_
_charmingly illustrated_
BOYS AND GIRLS OF MODERN DAYS THE CIRCUS COTTON-TAILS
Carolyn Sherwin Bailey Laura Rountree Smith
BOYS AND GIRLS OF COLONIAL DAYS THE COTTON-TAILS IN TOYLAND
Carolyn Sherwin Bailey Laura Rountree Smith
BOYS AND GIRLS OF DISCOVERY DAYS BUNNY BOY AND GRIZZLY BEAR
Carolyn Sherwin Bailey Laura Rountree Smith
BOYS AND GIRLS OF PIONEER DAYS A CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES
Carolyn Sherwin Bailey Robert Louis Stevenson
THE CIRCUS BOOK AB, THE CAVE MAN
Laura Rountree Smith William Lewis Nida
GROSSET & DUNLAP
_Publishers_ NEW YORK
TRANSCRIBER NOTES
Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple
spellings occur, majority use has been employed.
Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors
occur.