Chicken Little Jane on the Big John Part 30

"We ought--I shall feel the lack of that hunting party for years to come, Jane. There will be a vacuum in my inner consciousness. I shall wake up in the middle of the night sighing for that hunting party. But you see to-day is Wednesday, and we must leave Friday, and Frank and I have sworn by every fish in the creek to take to-morrow off for a fis.h.i.+ng trip. Chicken Little, there is only one way out of the dilemma.

Painful as it will be for you, you'll have to invite us to come again."

The worst of it was that Frank firmly declined to take a single petticoat along. Neither Marian nor Alice could move him from this ungallant resolve.

"My dear wife," Frank replied, "I love you, but I don't love to have you round when I'm fis.h.i.+ng."

"Never mind," said Marian with decision, "if we can't go we won't get them any lunch. Will we, Mother Morton?"

Mrs. Morton was rather horrified at such a breach of hospitality, d.i.c.k and Sherm being included in the boycott, but Marian and Alice both urged, and she finally promised neither to get up a lunch herself nor to permit Annie to.

Marian and Alice looked triumphant. Frank motioned to d.i.c.k and the two promptly disappeared. Marian quickly followed.

"The villain! He's gone over home to confiscate that batch of doughnuts I baked this morning. I hope he doesn't find them."

Mrs. Morton took the hint and locked up her pies and cake. But the two boys and Dr. Morton had joined the foraging party and food disappeared most mysteriously at intervals during the remainder of the day. A custard pie already cut and served on plates on the kitchen table, rea.s.sembled itself in the pie tin and walked out of the kitchen door when Annie changed the plates in the dining room. One entire loaf of bread vanished from the earth while Annie was trying to expel Ernest from the kitchen with a broom.

The foragers were so capable that even Mrs. Morton ceased to worry about the men folks going hungry.

But Marian's blood was up. "We've just got to do something to get even.

The best pool for fish on the whole creek is on Captain Clarke's land and I know they are not going there. Let's take the spring wagon and drive over and get the Captain to go fis.h.i.+ng with us. He'll take us to his own pool and with him to help, I'd be willing to wager we can beat these top-lofty fishermen at their own game."

Alice and the girls were instantly enthusiastic, but Mrs. Morton preferred to stay at home and keep cool.

Marian and Chicken Little left the others to put up the lunch, while they went out to the stable to hitch up the bays. They were soon on their way, with a can of bait and a pocket full of fish hooks and stout cord to rig up impromptu fis.h.i.+ng lines, the men having taken all the poles with them.

The others had gone soon after daybreak. It was nearing ten when Marian drove up to the Captain's. .h.i.tching post.

"What if he isn't at home?" said Chicken Little.

"He's got to be," laughed Marian.

Wing Fan came out, grinning. He did not share his master's reputed dislike for ladies.

He ushered them all into the big library and went off to notify the Captain, who was down in the meadow superintending the hay cutting.

"I am afraid we are an awful nuisance, but my prophetic soul tells me he will enjoy the joke and be pleased to have us come to him." Marian was bolstering up her courage.

"Of course he will. You don't suppose anybody could resist this crowd, do you?" Alice encouraged.

Captain Clarke was both pleased and amused. They were so excited they all talked at once, and it took several minutes for him to get command of the situation.

"They have the advantage in fis.h.i.+ng early in the day, but I'll impress Wing Fan and we'll have more fish, if I have to get out a net and seine them. We'll go down to the long hole now and see what we can do, and Wing will come as soon as he gives the men their dinner. If there is a fish in the creek you can depend on Wing to lure him. He just goes out and crooks his little finger and they begin to hunt for the hook," he explained to Gertie.

The Captain proved to be an expert fisherman himself. He showed them all his little stock of fisherman's tricks and they had a good catch by noon when Marian and Alice stopped to prepare the lunch. About two o'clock Wing Fan appeared, his face one broad, yellow smile.

"Big missee and little missee have most," he a.s.sured them.

Chicken Little and Katy and Gertie laid off and perched some distance up the bank behind Wing to watch his methods. He didn't seem to do anything different, but the fish certainly came to his hook in a most astonis.h.i.+ng manner.

They fished until four, and the catch exceeded their wildest expectations. They wanted to leave some with the Captain, but he wouldn't hear of it. "If the men have more than you, you can send me some of theirs. I should like to see if the flavor is better."

They expected their fishermen to drift in about five, and knew they would bring their fish to the house to display them before taking them down to the spring stream. Hurrying home, they put away the team and took their fish down to the spring house. Captain Clarke had saved a considerable part of their take alive for them, in a wooden cask, which Wing carefully loaded into the spring wagon. They got a piece of chicken wire and fastened it across the opening where the water flowed out underneath the spring house, and then, removing the milk and b.u.t.ter crocks from the rock-lined channel, turned all the living fish into the water. The others they spread out on the rock floor to make the best showing possible. The spring house seemed alive with fish.

"They'll never beat that!" Alice's eyes were dancing.

"I don't see how they can." Marian chuckled. "My lofty spouse will have to come down off his high horse this time."

"Don't breathe a word, girls. I don't want them to have the least inkling of what we have been up to, till they see this array."

The fishermen arrived, hot, dusty, and hungry. After all their efforts, their supplies had hardly kept pace with their appet.i.tes. They displayed their booty proudly. Frank had three trout and five catfish on his string. d.i.c.k, one trout, and three catfish. Dr. Morton and the boys had pooled theirs, and boasted twelve altogether. But most of the fish were small. The ladies obligingly went into ecstasies over their skill.

Chicken Little and Katy admired and ohed and ahed until Marian was afraid they would rouse suspicion.

"Do you want them all here at the house or shall we put part of them down at the spring?" Frank asked, with emphasis on the all.

"Oh, since there are so many, perhaps you'd better put some away for breakfast," Marian replied, after an instant's consideration.

Frank, d.i.c.k and the boys started for the spring. The three girls rose to accompany them. Alice and Marian looked languidly uninterested.

The spring house was very dark and shadowy, coming in from the bright suns.h.i.+ne outside. Frank was in the lead. He stopped just in time to avoid stepping on a fish. He and d.i.c.k got their eyes focused to take in the display at almost the same instant.

"Well, I'll be darned!" Frank looked at d.i.c.k in wild amaze. d.i.c.k stared, speechless, for fully twenty seconds. Then he broke into a roar. The boys, a few paces behind them, rushed in to see what the fun was. Ernest took one good look over Frank's shoulder. "Jumping Jehosaphat!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, making room for Sherm. Sherm gazed his fill and glanced at Frank.

d.i.c.k came to first and hazarded a guess. "The ladies--G.o.d bless 'em--they've been to town and bought out a market."

"Nonsense, there isn't a fish market in the burg--men sometimes peddle fish round at the houses, but they never get out here. They've been fis.h.i.+ng on their own hook."

d.i.c.k turned on Chicken Little, who was watching them demurely. "If you don't tell us how you worked this I'll----" He advanced threateningly.

"Fished," she replied laconically. And neither coaxing nor threats extracted any further information from the ladies that evening.

After supper Marian remarked carelessly: "Frank, there are more fish than we can use, don't you think it would be nice to send some over to the Captain?"

But it was Marian herself who finally let the cat out of the bag the following morning just before Alice and d.i.c.k left. The train would not leave until evening, but they were all going in to make a tour of the Indian remains and to do some shopping. Frank was driving for the guests and Marian; the youngsters were with the Captain. Marian reached down under the seat to push a satchel out of the way of her feet, and to her surprise, came in painful contact with a fish hook. She pulled up a bunch of line and several hooks.

"Oh, I wondered what became of our lines," she said carelessly. "Wing must have put them in for us."

She looked up to find both d.i.c.k and Frank regarding her with interest and Alice looking reproachful.

"Methinks," remarked d.i.c.k, gazing at the heavens thoughtfully, "I see a great light."

"I knew they'd let it out," Frank replied meanly. "Women are clever, but a secret is too many for them every time."

The day was cloudy but sultry. Collars wilted and little damp spots appeared between their shoulder blades if they ventured to lean against the backs of the seats.

Leaves were curling in the corn fields; the prairies were parched with the heat. Frank got out and examined several of the ears of corn just heading out in a field they pa.s.sed.

He looked sober when he returned. "Forty-eight hours more like to-day will finish that field. It's a trifle better on the bottom lands."