CHAPTER XI
A STRANGE SUMMONS
What Ruth and Agnes saw was this. Stretched over the lawn was a hose that had been used for sprinkling the grass. Uncle Rufus, having finished wetting down the dry places, had laid the nozzle end of the hose down, with the water still running, and had walked back to the faucet to shut it off.
But as Ruth and Agnes watched, Dot picked up the nozzle end of the hose, with the water still spurting from it, and directed it toward the old colored man, spraying him well.
“Heah, yo’ li’l missie! Stop that!” cried Uncle Rufus.
“Ho! Ho!” Dot laughed, as she continued to spray Uncle Rufus.
Then he made a dash for her, at which sign of danger she dropped the nozzle and ran away, whereat Uncle Rufus resumed his shuffle toward the faucet, perhaps a hundred feet away.
But no sooner was his back turned than Dot again made a rush for the nozzle, again spraying Uncle Rufus.
He shouted and shook his finger at her, but Dot only laughed the more and doused him well. But as soon as he started to run toward her she dropped the hose and ran in her turn.
“That’s what I was doing, but I got tired,” explained Tess. “Oh, we gave Uncle Rufus a fine shower!”
Ruth and Agnes looked at each other. Then Ruth, shaking Tess rather severely by one arm, exclaimed:
“You naughty girls! The idea of wetting poor, old Uncle Rufus! You must be punished for this, Tess. Agnes, go and get Dot and bring her here.”
When Dot saw Agnes coming out, the mother of the Alice-doll beat a hasty retreat, not quite fast enough, though, for she was caught as she ran across the lawn and stumbled.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Dot. “I wasn’t doing it all.”
“Ruth will attend to you,” remarked Agnes, in her sternest voice. “You and Tess are going to be punished.”
And punished they were, though Tess protested, with tears, that Uncle Rufus had on his oldest clothes that he wore when he weeded the garden in the rain, adding that he did not mind being wet.
Really, he did not seem to, though, as a matter of fact, he was pretty well soaked. For when the two little girls had been sent up to bed, to have the shades pulled down, without a toy to play with, not even the Alice-doll, and no picture books to look at or stories to read, it was Uncle Rufus who interceded for them and begged them off.
“Look heah, Missie Ruth,” he humbly pleaded when he had on dry garments, “dem young uns didn’t mean no harm, nohow. An’—ha! ha!—I doan mind de wettin’!”
“I know, Uncle Rufus,” answered Ruth, with a smile. “It is very good of you to forgive them and to try to get them off, but they did wrong and they must be punished. If I don’t do something to them they will act worse the next time.”
“Yes’m, Missie Ruth, I knows dat, but I done guess dey has been punished nuff!”
He looked so eager and had such a pleading, loving look on his honest, wrinkled black face, that Ruth could not resist him. She knew how he loved Tess and Dot.
“Very well,” Ruth finally said, “I’ll let them stay in bed half an hour longer, and then you may go up and tell them that you forgive them, Uncle Rufus, and that they may come down just before supper.”
That was perhaps the shortest half hour ever registered on the clock of the Corner House, for it could not have been more than ten minutes after Ruth had remitted the punishment that Uncle Rufus went up to the girls’ room and timidly knocked on the door.
“We can’t come out,” said Tess meekly, in what she doubtless intended to be a martyr’s voice. “You’d better go away!”
Uncle Rufus gave one of his inimitable chuckles.
“Oh!” gasped Dot.
“Oh!” gasped Tess.
“Yo’-all kin come down now,” announced Uncle Rufus.
“Did Ruth say so?” asked Tess.
“Yes’m, she done say dat!” declared Uncle Rufus. “Miss Ruth say she done mitigate yo’ punishment, whateber dat means, an’ I wants to say dat I forgibs yo’. Ha! Ha! I guess I done needed de baff anyhow.”
“Oh, Uncle Rufus, we’re awfully sorry if we gave you a bath before it was time,” said Dot.
“Doan yo’-all worry none ’bout dat!” chuckled the old colored man. “Come ’long down ’fore supper!”
Tess and Dot, much chastened in spirit, descended. They were grateful that none of the boys were around to see their humiliation, and for a time they went about much subdued, trying to make it appear that they were more sinned against than sinning.
But Ruth knew them, and so did Agnes, for they had done such pranks before and always the same thing followed their just punishment. So, though Nalbro felt sorry for them and was inclined to “mother” them, she was advised against it by the older Corner House girls.
The result was that little attention was paid to Tess and Dot, except that they were treated with exaggerated politeness by their sisters, perhaps in contrast to their rude but thoughtless showering of Uncle Rufus.
In a short time the little girls forgot all about it and were playing about as before, much to the delight of Uncle Rufus, who would not have slept well had he kept on his mind any longer the vision of his little tormentors being punished.
“I just love it here!” declared Nalbro, as they were sitting on the porch, waiting for Linda and Mrs. MacCall to announce the evening meal. “It’s so different from my own home. It’s stupid there, though it’s nice enough. Something always seems to be happening here.”
“You’re right there!” laughed Ruth.
“And sometimes things don’t always happen for the best!” added Agnes.
“I just wonder where they got that idea of spraying Uncle Rufus?” mused Ruth. “I do hope they didn’t see it in the movies, for they are sure to mention it if they did, and Mrs. MacCall will say it’s a sin and a shame that we ever let them go.”
“Yes, that would be a bit awkward,” admitted her sister. “But I have a faint suspicion that they must have made it up out of their own heads.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Ruth. “I do hope Luke comes to-night,” she went on.
This was so unexpected, coming from Ruth, who seldom let anything be known about her liking for the young collegian, that Agnes stared at her sister in some surprise, and even Nalbro raised her pretty eyebrows. Luke had been called away from Milton for several days by Professor Keeps, who had some work for the young man to do.
“Oh, it’s just a matter of business!” Ruth made haste to say, as she sensed the underlying meaning her words might have conveyed. “He was going to make inquiries about those two men,” she went on. “Do you know, I don’t at all like the fact that they have been seen around here so frequently,” and there was a worried look on her face.
“Don’t start any fretting,” advised Agnes. “I don’t believe it will amount to anything. But what was Luke going to find out?”
“He was going to see some railroad men he knows—the conductor or brakeman on the train the time he sat behind the men who talked about the ten thousand dollars—and he’s going to ask if the railroad men know anything about the fellows.”
“Oh, so that’s the only reason you’re wishing Luke to come this evening—on a matter of business! I see! The plot thickens!” mocked Agnes.
“Oh, don’t be silly!” advised Ruth, in a small tone of voice.
“Worse and worse!” laughed Agnes. “See her blushes, Nally?”
“Nally, if you side with her,” began Ruth, “I’ll never——”
But the appearance of Mrs. MacCall with the announcement that the meal was served put an end to what might have proved an embarrassing situation.
Toward the end of the meal Tess and Dot were observed carrying on some secret interchange of ideas.
“Go on—you ask her,” urged Dot to Tess.
“You said you would,” retorted Tess.
“What is it?” Ruth wanted to know.
The two children looked self-conscious for a moment, and then Dot blurted out:
“Couldn’t we stay up for the party a little while to-night?”
“Why, yes, I intended you should—for a little while,” replied Ruth. “What made you think you couldn’t? Oh, I see! About Uncle Rufus! Oh, that’s all forgiven and forgotten.”
“And could Sammy be over?” Dot was quick to ask, taking advantage of the unexpected softness on Ruth’s part.
“Oh, Sammy! Well, I don’t know. I hadn’t intended to ask him.”
“He’s got a new suit of clothes!” burst out Dot, as if that clinched matters. And in the laugh that followed, Ruth said:
“All right. Have him over for a little while. But mind! He must go home early!”
Tess and Dot would have rushed away before the pudding was served, so anxious were they to convey the welcome news to their prankish partner, but Ruth insisted on the forms of politeness being observed, at any rate, and not until she had given the signal for all to leave were Tess and Dot allowed to depart on their joyous errand.
The young men all came, Luke getting back to Milton just in time to attend. Cecile, too, motored over from Grantham and arrived with her intended, Gene Barrows. So that soon the Corner House was echoing to the merry laughter of happy hearts.
“Dish yeah shore would ’a’ done Uncle Peter Stower good ef he could ’a’ heerd dis!” remarked Uncle Rufus, as he helped Mrs. MacCall in the kitchen. “He got kinder ole an’ crusty towards de las’, but he had lots ob pain.”
“’Twould be a marcy were the puir mon able to see a little of the brightness he’s brought about,” agreed the Scotch housekeeper. “But it’s nae gi’en ta any mon to see what gaes on when he’s depart!”
“’Ceptin’ he turns into a ghost,” Uncle Rufus observed.
“Hech! Hech! Dinna ye start any o’ that talk with the nicht comin’ on!” warned Mrs. MacCall, with a glance over her shoulder.
Ruth could scarcely wait for a chance to get Luke off in a corner by himself to put to him some questions that were troubling her. But when she did she derived little satisfaction.
“About those men—” she began. “Were you able to find out anything, Luke?”
“Nothing worth mentioning,” he replied. “I talked with the conductor of the train I was on when I heard the strange talk, and he didn’t even remember the fellows. Small wonder, when you stop to think how many tickets he has to take up in the course of the day. Then I tackled the brakeman, and had a little better luck.”
“Did he know the men?”
“He didn’t exactly know them,” Luke replied. “But he remembered them when I called them to his mind. Luckily, I had noticed them pretty closely and could give a good description. Perhaps I may turn out to be a detective—who knows?”
“You’ll have to work up a few more details on this case before I’ll give you a certificate and a badge,” said Ruth, with a smile. “But what did the brakeman say?”
“That’s right—stick to the main point,” returned Luke. “Well, he said the men had ridden on the same train a couple of times before, but what their business was or what they talked about, he didn’t know.”
“Were they in the moving picture business?”
“That he couldn’t say. In fact, I didn’t mention it,” was the collegian’s answer. “The more I stop to think of it the less I like that moving picture theory.”
“But there must be some explanation of their remark about ten thousand dollars,” insisted Ruth. “Ten thousand dollars don’t grow on every bush, you know.”
“More’s the pity,” remarked Luke. “If it did I’d be out picking some now. College is frightfully expensive!” he added, with a sigh.
“I’m sure it must be. But you haven’t much longer.”
“I don’t know. When I look ahead to the time when I’ll graduate—if I don’t flunk out—it seems——”
There came an interruption. Sammy Pinkney, who had been playing in the yard in the bright moonlight with Tess and Dot, came up to the corner of the porch where Ruth and Luke were having this conversation.
“Excuse me,” said Sammy, with startling politeness for him, “but some one wants to see you, Ruth.”
“Some one to see me, Sammy?”
“Yes’m.”
“Who is it, and where is he—or she?”
“It’s a he.”
“Well, Sammy, why all this mysteriousness?” asked Luke, with a laugh, for there was a queer air not only about Sammy, but about the two little girls who stood just behind him.
“Who wants to see me, Sammy?” asked Ruth, encouragingly.
“It’s Hop Wong, the Chinaman!” blurted out the boy. “And he wants you to come down to the end of the garden!”