Chicken Little Jane on the Big John Part 35

The Captain's eyes twinkled. "If he isn't, I think Sherm is. We might let the one who gets there first prove his skill."

The boys were not slow in acting upon this hint. They sprinted their best without waiting for a starter, and reached the skiff so exactly together that the question of precedence was still unsettled. The boys did not wait for an umpire. Ernest untied the boat and both attempted to fling themselves in with disastrous results. The _Chicken Little_ had not been built for wrestling purposes. She tipped sufficiently to spill both boys into the creek. The water was shallow, but Sherm was wet well up to the waist, and Ernest, who had been pitched still farther out, was soaked from head to foot. They appeared ludicrously surprised and sheepish.

The girls and the Captain laughed most unfeelingly. But Chicken Little immediately began to consider the consequences.

"Poor Mother, she'll have to dry that suit out and press it before it can be packed. It's a blessed thing you didn't wear your new suit as you wanted to, Ernest Morton."

"My, but you are wet!" exclaimed Katy. "Oughtn't you to go right home and change?"

"Come with me into the house, boys. I think Wing and I can fix you up."

The Captain cut a laugh in the middle to offer aid.

The lads were so ludicrously crestfallen; they were doubly comical.

Wing, fortunately, had a good fire in the kitchen and soon had their wet garments steaming before it, while the Captain hunted out dry clothes for them. Some spirit of mischief prompted him to array Ernest in an old uniform of his own, with amazing results, for Ernest was considerably slimmer than the older man, and fully two inches taller. The ample blue coat with its gold braid hung on him as on a clothes rack. The sleeves were so short they left a generous expanse of wrist in view, and the trousers struck him well above the ankle.

The Captain saluted him ceremoniously, chuckling at the boy's absurd appearance. The girls were openly hilarious.

Chicken Little struck an att.i.tude. "Behold the future admiral! Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce Admiral Morton, of whose distinguished exploits you have often heard. His recent feat of capsizing the enemy's frigate single-handed, has never been equalled in the annals of our glorious navy."

She was not permitted to finish this speech undisturbed. Ernest had chased her half way round the house before she got the last words out.

He clapped his hand firmly over her mouth to restrain her from further eloquence.

Jane struggled helplessly. "Katy--say, Katy, come--help----"

Katy, nothing loath, flung herself on Ernest from the rear and the three had a joyous tussle, with honors on the side of the future admiral, till Sherm, who had been a little slower in dressing than Ernest, came out the front door.

Jane called to him despite the restraining hand and her shortening breath: "Sherm, he's choking me----"

"Choking nothing--it's Katy who is choking me--just wait till I get hold of you, Miss Halford!"

Katy had both hands gripped fairly on his coat collar and was tugging Ernest backward with all her might, while Chicken Little struggled to get away.

"Come help,--Sherm, please!" Chicken Little loosened herself from the gagging hand enough to plead again.

"Keep out, Sherm. Three against one is no fair."

Sherm watched the fray a moment, undecided.

"You may have bigger odds than that, Ernest," laughed the Captain. "You might as well be getting your hand in."

Sherm sauntered leisurely over and helped Chicken Little wrench loose, then, whispering something hastily, took her by the hand and they both made for the creek.

Ernest, relieved of his sister, swung quickly round, catching Katy by the shoulders before she could save herself.

"I've a mind to----" At this moment he detected Sherm's game. "No, you don't, smarties!"

Katy likewise saw and acted even more quickly than Ernest. She was very light and swift, and she darted past Sherm and Chicken Little like a flash, reaching the boat twenty seconds ahead.

"Come on, Ernest!" She slipped the rope deftly from the post, not waiting to untie it, and, pus.h.i.+ng off, leaped lightly into the row boat.

Ernest needed no second invitation. Katy motioned to him to run farther along the bank and paddled the skiff in close enough for him to climb on board. Sherm and Chicken Little, dazed by the suddenness of this maneuver, were still some feet away.

"Katy Halford, you're a pretty one to go back on your own side that way," Jane scolded.

"Katy, I didn't think it of you--after asking me to come and help you, too!" Sherm was also reproachful.

"I didn't ask you, Sherman Dart. It was Chicken Little."

"Of course," Ernest encouraged. "Katy's been on my side all the time.

Haven't you, Katy?"

Katy nodded, laughing.

The Captain, who had followed the young people at a more sober gait, smiled at this outcome of the skirmish.

"When a woman will she will, you may depend upon it," he quoted. "The trouble is to find out what she wills."

Ernest, secure in the rower's seat, could afford to be generous. He brought the boat in and took them all on board. Gertie had been a quiet spectator of the frolic. She had little taste for boisterous fun.

Captain Clarke handed her in with a flourish. "Gertie is my partner."

Sherm had his revenge. Ernest rowed energetically--so energetically that he was tired enough to be willing to resign the oars before a half hour had gone by. Under the circ.u.mstances he did not quite like to ask Sherm to relieve him. Sherm seemed to be oblivious to the fact that it required energy to propel the boat. He was strumming an imaginary banjo as an accompaniment to the familiar melodies the girls were softly singing, occasionally joining in himself. Katy did not fail to observe that Ernest dropped one of his oars to regard a blister ruefully, and she did her best to help.

"Say, Ernest, let me try one oar. I believe I could row with you if you would take shorter strokes."

Ernest hadn't much faith in Katy's skill, but the experiment gave him an excuse to rest a minute. He moved over and handed her the oar with a little smile of grat.i.tude.

"You're a trump, Katy," he whispered.

Darkness dropped softly in the timber. They heard a distant splash where a muskrat had taken to the water. Every one wished solemnly by the evening star. And two of the wishes came true in record time. The Captain wished that he might find the son so long lost to him. Katy wished--she didn't quite put the wish into words--but she did want Ernest to have what he wanted. One by one the other stars twinkled forth and the darkness deepened till their faces were dim, white blurs, and the girls' pink-and-blue dresses faded into patches of dusk in the blackness. Fireflies winked in the gloom. At the Captain's suggestion, Katy and Ernest rested on their oars. They stopped singing and listened to the night's silences--silences broken by rustling movements from a thicket on the farther bank or by eery creakings of the branches overhead. The little group felt vaguely the bigness of things, though no one but the Captain knew exactly why.

It was ten o'clock before they went back to the house. Wing had performed a miracle in the meantime; the boy's suits were not only dried, but neatly pressed.

Mrs. Morton let them all sleep late the next morning in view of the long journey ahead for Ernest and the girls.

Poor Sherm found this last day trying. His father's health was not improving and a fear lay close in his heart that he should never see him again. It was almost more than he could bear to hear the girls talk about going home. He eased the ache by keeping at work. Dr. Morton had already initiated him into Ernest's duties. The others were too busy to think much about Sherm but Chicken Little, who sat beside him at the table, noticed that he scarcely tasted his dinner. She started to remark about it, but a glance at Sherm's drawn face warned her in time.

Presently, she had a gracious thought. "Sherm, let's ride Caliph and Calico in to the train, then the others won't be so crowded and Marian and Jilly can go, too."

Sherm somehow felt better immediately. The brisk gallop they took at starting helped still more. Sunflowers and golden rod lined the roadside for miles; brown cat tails nodded above the swales. A bobolink, swaying on a weed stalk near by, answered Sherm's chirrup to the ponies with a volley of golden notes.

"Chicken Little," he remarked, apropos of nothing, after they had ridden a few miles, "you are a mighty comfortable person to have 'round."

"Maybe you won't think so in a day or two. I shall be so lonesome I may be tempted to follow you about like Huz and Buz."

"You can't scare me that way, Chicken Little, I think the ranch is going to be a pretty loose fit for all of us for a few days. But your school begins about the middle of September, doesn't it? That will help."