Jessica, the Heiress Part 16

"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 sa.s.sy, 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 pa.s.sed 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 sa.s.sy 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 antic.i.p.ate 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 s.h.i.+vering 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 ap.r.o.n 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 punis.h.i.+n' 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 ap.r.o.n 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, rea.s.suringly:

"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 da.s.sent--I da.s.sent!"

CHAPTER XIII.