Jack the Hunchback Part 20

"Be sure to keep a sharp watch on the road if you have the doors open,"

she whispered, "and don't go out, even into the yard, unless it is absolutely necessary, for n.o.body knows what may happen. When you wash the best dishes be careful, Jack dear, for I should feel very badly in case any were broken."

"I'll attend to it in great shape, Aunt Nancy."

"Don't give Louis too much milk at a time, the weather is so hot that it might curdle on his stomach; and if I don't succeed in getting home until afternoon, there is some cold meat and cake on the hanging shelf in the cellar. Don't go without a lunch; it is very unhealthy to work while you are hungry."

"Who's dallying now, Aunt Nancy?" Mr. Chick cried as he tried to prevent his horse from nibbling at the honeysuckle-bush.

"If you had come as you agreed I should have had plenty of time to attend to matters," was the sharp reply; and then with many injunctions for him to keep a firm hold on the reins, the little woman succeeded in gaining the rather shaky seat.

"Take good care of Louis!" she cried as the horse ambled slowly down the lane; and Jack re-entered the house feeling decidedly lonely at the prospect of being without Aunt Nancy for several hours.

In order to occupy his mind he set about the work laid out, and was so industrious that before the baby made known the fact of being awake, the knives and forks had been cleaned.

Fully an hour was spent dressing and feeding Louis, after which he was allowed to play on the kitchen floor while his crooked guardian washed the "best dishes."

This was a task which required considerable time, and at eleven o'clock it was hardly more than half finished.

Then again Louis wanted milk, and when it had been given him he insisted upon being allowed to go out on the doorstep.

At first Jack was disposed to keep him in the house; but when he became fretful, gave him his own way, as he said half to himself,--

"I don't s'pose there can be any harm in lettin' you stay here; but if anything _should_ happen, Aunt Nancy would think I had been careless."

After that he kept a strict watch over the baby, going to the door every few moments, and on each occasion finding Louis playing contentedly with a string of b.u.t.tons the little woman had prepared for him.

The fact that he showed no disposition to leave the broad stone caused Jack to have less care than usual, and this, coupled with the idea of cleaning the most elaborate dishes, rendered him oblivious to the flight of time.

He was brought to a realization of what was pa.s.sing around by hearing the rumble of a carriage in the lane, and almost before he could reach the door, Aunt Nancy was in the house, while Mr. Chick had driven away at the full speed of his very slow horse.

"Did you get along all right, Jack dear?" the little woman asked, as she deposited an armful of bundles on the table.

"Yes, indeed. You see there has been plenty of work, and it doesn't seem any time since you left."

"Where is the baby?"

"On the doorstep. He fussed to go out, an' I thought the fresh air wouldn't do him any harm."

"Which doorstep?"

"Why here, of course"; and Jack stepped forward only to give vent to a cry of alarm an instant later. "He isn't here at all! Where do you suppose he could have gone?"

Aunt Nancy was at the door before he ceased speaking, and gazed up and down the yard in bewilderment, but without seeing any signs of the missing baby.

For an instant the two stood gazing at each other in perplexity, and then Aunt Nancy asked sharply,--

"How long since you saw him?"

"It didn't seem many minutes before you came; but I s'pose it must have been, else he'd be 'round here now."

"Run up to the barn and see if he is there!"

As she spoke the little woman went down the lane, returning just as Jack came back.

"He isn't there," the latter said.

"Nor on the road. Of course he must be somewhere near, for children can't disappear entirely in such a mysterious fas.h.i.+on. Go up the lane and I'll look back of the barn."

"But then we shall be leaving the barn alone You stay here an' I'll do the searchin'."

"It wouldn't make any difference if we left the house wide open for a month, I couldn't stand still while that dear little baby is wandering around n.o.body knows where."

Jack understood that it would be useless to remonstrate, and started off at full speed.

Up to the entire length of the lane he ran without finding that for which he sought, and then back to the house where he was met by Aunt Nancy on whose wrinkled face was written fear and anguish.

She did not wait for him to tell her that the search had been in vain, but cried,--

"Go up through the field from the shed. There is a place where he might have gotten through the fence, and it would lead directly to the duck pond if he kept on in a straight line!"

There was a tone in her voice which told of the fear she had regarding the possible ending of his adventures; and Jack, with a mental prayer that he would find the little fellow before it was too late, ran across the enclosure, Aunt Nancy going in the same direction, but at a slight angle.

The little woman's anxiety gave fleetness to her feet, and she travelled even faster than Jack could.

Both called loudly from time to time, but without receiving any answer, and Jack's heart grew heavy as he thought of what might have happened while he was in the house all unconscious of impending trouble.

As the two neared the pond the figure of a boy could be distinguished among the foliage of alders running at full speed toward the main road, and Jack shouted to Aunt Nancy,--

"There goes one of Bill Dean's gang. They know where Louis is."

This caused the little woman to redouble her cries, and a few seconds later two more boys could be dimly seen as they hurried away, keeping well within the shelter of the bushes to avoid recognition.

There was no longer any question in Jack's mind but that he would soon find the baby, nor was he mistaken.

On arriving in view of the pond both saw a rudely constructed raft of fence rails at least ten yards from the sh.o.r.e, and on it, crowing and laughing as if he was having the jolliest possible time sat Louis.

"How can we reach him?" Aunt Nancy cried, as she stood wringing her hands, while the big tears ran down her cheeks. "He will surely be drowned, Jack! What is to be done?"

The hunchback had no thought of his own safety or discomfort as compared with that of rescuing the baby.

Without hesitation he ran into the pond, continuing on at risk of being mired, until the water was above his waist, and the baby held out his hands to be taken.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Jack ran into the pond, until the water was above his waist, and the baby held out his hands to be taken.--Page 147.]

"Sit still Louis, sit still an' Jack will come to you!"

It was impossible to run very fast through the water; and to Aunt Nancy, who stood on the bank in helpless grief, it seemed as if the deformed lad hardly moved, so slow was his progress.