Ruth Fielding At Sunrise Farm Part 29

Again and again they called for the lost boys by name. Sadie's shrill voice carried as far as anybody's, without doubt, and her crying for "Willie" and "d.i.c.kie" should have brought those delinquents to light, had they heard her.

Sadie stuck close to Mr. Caslon, as he told her to. But the way through the brush was harder for the girl than for the rest of them. Thick mats of greenbriars halted them. They were torn, and scratched, and stung by the vegetable pests; yet Sadie made no complaint.

As for the mosquitoes and other stinging insects-well, they were out on this night, it seemed, in full force. They buzzed around the heads of the searchers in clouds, attracted by the lanterns. Above, in the trees, complaining owls hooted their objections to the searchers' presence in the forest. The whip-poor-wills reiterated their determination from dead limbs or rotting fence posts. And in the wet places the deep-voiced frogs gave tongue in many minor keys.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Sadie to the farmer, "the little fellers will be scared half to death when they hear all these critters."

"And how about you?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm used to 'em. Why, I've slept out in places as bad as this more'n one night. But Willie and d.i.c.kie ain't used to it."

One end of the line of searchers touched the pond. They shouted that information to the others, and then they all pushed on. It was in the mind of all that, perhaps, the children had circled back to the pond.

But their shouts brought no hoped-for reply, although they echoed across the open water, and were answered eerily from the farther sh.o.r.e.

There were six couples; therefore the line extended for a long way into the wood, and swept a wide area. They marched on, bursting through the vines and climbers, searching thick patches of jungle, and often shouting in chorus till the wood rang again.

Tom and one of the stablemen, who were at the lower end of the line, finally came to the mouth of that gorge out of which the brook sprang.

To the east of this opening lay a considerable valley and it was decided to search this vale thoroughly before following the stream higher.

It was well they did so, for half a mile farther on, Tom and his companion made a discovery. They came upon the tall, blasted trunk of a huge old tree that had a great hollow at its foot. This hollow was blinded by a growth of vines and brush, yet as Tom flashed his lantern upon it, it seemed to him as though the vines had been disturbed.

"It may be the lair of some animal, sir," suggested the stableman, as Tom attempted to peer in.

"Nothing much more dangerous than foxes in these woods now, I am told,"

returned the boy. "And this is not a fox's burrow-h.e.l.lo!"

His sudden, delighted shriek rang through the wood and up the hillside.

"I've found them! I've found them!" the boy repeated, and dived into the hollow tree.

His lantern showed him and the stableman the six wanderers rolled up like kittens in a nest. They opened their eyes sleepily, yawning and blinking. One began to snivel, but Willie Raby at once delivered a sharp punch to that one, saying, in grand disgust:

"Baby! Didn't I tell you they'd come for us? They was sure to-wasn't they, d.i.c.kie?"

"Yep," responded that youngster, quite as cool about it as his brother.

Tom's shouts brought the rest of the party in a hurry. Mr. Caslon hauled each "fresh air" out by the collar and stood him on his feet. When he had counted them twice over to make sure, he said:

"Well, sir! of all the young scamps that ever were born-Willie Raby!

weren't you scared?"

"Nope," declared Willie. "Some of these other kids begun ter snivel when it got dark; but d.i.c.kie an' me would ha' licked 'em if they'd kep' that up. Then we found that good place to sleep--"

"But suppose it had been the bed of some animal?" asked Bobbins, chuckling.

"Nope," said Willie, shaking his head. "There was spider webs all over the hole we went in at, so we knowed n.o.body had been there much lately.

And it was a pretty good place to sleep. Only it was too warm in there at first. I couldn't get to sleep right away."

"But you didn't hear us shouting for you?" queried one of the other searchers.

"Nope. I got to sleep. You see, I thought about bears an' burglars an'

goblins, an' all those sort o' things, an' that made me s.h.i.+ver, so I went to sleep," declared the earnest twin.

A shout of laughter greeted this statement. The searchers picked up the little fellows and carried them down to the edge of the pond, where the way was much clearer, and so on to the plain path to Sunrise Farm.

So delighted were they to have found the six youngsters without a scratch upon them, that n.o.body-not even Mr. Caslon-thought to ask the runaways how they had come to wander so far from Sunrise Farm.

It was ten o'clock when the party arrived at the big house on the hill.

Isadore had run ahead to tell the good news and everybody was aroused-even to the six fellow-orphans of the runaways-to welcome the wanderers.

"My goodness! let's have the fireworks and celebrate their return,"

exclaimed Madge.

But Mr. Steele quickly put his foot down on that.

"I am afraid that Willie and d.i.c.kie, and Jim and the rest of them, ought really to be punished for their escapade, and the trouble and fright they have given us," declared the proprietor of Sunrise Farm.

"However, perhaps going without their supper and postponing the rest of the celebration until to-morrow night, will be punishment enough. But don't you let me hear of you six boys trying to run away again, while you remain with Mr. and Mrs. Caslon," and he shook a threatening finger at the wanderers.

"Now Mr. and Mrs. Caslon will take you home," for the big wagon had been driven around from the stables while he was speaking. Mrs. Caslon, too worried to remain in doubt about the fresh airs, had trudged away up the hill to Sunrise Farm, while the party was out in search of the lost ones.

Mrs. Steele and the girls bade a cordial good-night to the farmer's wife, as she climbed up to the front seat of the vehicle on one side. On the other, Mr. Steele stopped Mr. Caslon before he could climb up.

"The women folks have arranged for you and your wife to come to-morrow evening and help take care of these little mischiefs, while we finish the celebration," said the rich man, with a detaining hand upon Mr.

Caslon's shoulder. "We need you."

"I reckon so, neighbor," said the farmer, chuckling. "We're a little more used to them lively young eels than you be."

"And-and we want you and your wife to come for your own sakes," added Mr. Steele, in some confusion. "We haven't even been acquainted before, sir. I consider that I am at fault, Caslon. I hope you'll overlook it and-and-as you say yourself-_be neighborly_."

"Sure! Of course!" exclaimed the old man, heartily. "Ain't no need of two neighbors bein' at outs, Mr. Steele. You'll find that soft words b.u.t.ter more parsnips than any other kind. If you an' I ain't jest agreed on ev'ry p'int, let's get together an' settle it ourselves. No need of lawyers' work in it," and the old farmer climbed nimbly to the high seat, and the wagon load of cheering, laughing youngsters started down the hill.

"And so _that's_ all right," exclaimed the delighted Ruth, who had heard the conversation between the two men, and could scarcely hide her delight in it.

"I feel like dancing," she said to Helen. "I just _know_ Mr. Steele and Mr. Caslon will understand each other after this, and that there will be no quarrel between them over the farms."

Which later results proved to be true. Not many months afterward, Madge wrote to Ruth that her father and the old farmer had come to a very satisfactory agreement. Mr. Caslon had agreed to sell the old homestead to Mr. Steele for a certain price, retaining a life occupancy of it for himself and wife, and, in addition, the farmer was to take over the general superintendency of Sunrise Farm for Mr. Steele, on a yearly salary.

"So much for the work of the 'terrible twins'!" Ruth declared when she heard this, for the girl of the Red Mill did not realize how much she, herself, had to do with bringing about Mr. Steele's change of att.i.tude toward his neighbor.

CHAPTER XXV-THE ORPHANS' FORTUNE

A great deal happened at Sunrise Farm before these later occurrences which so delighted Ruth Fielding. The excitement of the loss of the six "fresh airs" was not easily forgotten. Whenever any of the orphans was on the Sunrise premises again, they had a bodyguard of older girls or boys who kept a bright lookout that nothing unusual happened to them.