The Box-Car Children
This time Henry himself could not wait to tell his sisters what he had.
He passed them the package at once, with shining eyes.
"Butter!" cried Jess with a radiant face.
It was butter, cool and sweet. Nobody remembered that they had been a
week without tasting either butter or meat when at last they sat down to
their royal supper.
"These are trick spoons," explained Henry. "Turn them upside down, and
use the handle, and they become knives."
They were knives; anyway, they were used to spread the delicious morsels
of butter on the brown loaf. With dried beef, and a cookie for dessert,
who could ask for better fare? Certainly not the four children, who
enjoyed it more than the rarest dainties.
"I washed the doctor's automobile this afternoon," Henry related. "Then
I washed both piazzas with the hose, and tomorrow I'm going to hoe in
the garden. Oh, wouldn't I love to have a nice cold swim in that brook!"
Henry was hot and sticky, certainly. He looked with longing eyes at the
waterfall as he finished the last crumbs of his supper.
"I wonder if we couldn't fix up a regular swimming pool," he said, half
to himself.
"Of course we could," replied Violet, as if nothing were too difficult.
"Jess and I know where there are big logs, and big flat stones."
"You do, hey?" said Henry staring at his gentle little sister.
"Well, why couldn't we, Henry?" struck in Jess. "Just a little below
this there is a sort of pool already, only not big enough."
"We sure could!" cried Henry. "Some day I'll stay home from work, and
we'll see."
Nobody realized that Henry had been working only one day in all. Anyway
it seemed as if they had always lived in the comfortable home in the
freight car, with Henry plying back and forth from the city each day,
bringing them new surprises.
Henry went to bed that night with a head full of plans for damming up
the brook. He almost shouted when he thought suddenly of Benny's wheels.
He began to plan to make a cart to carry the heavy stones to the brook.
And that was when he first noticed that Watch was not asleep. He could
see his eyes shining red in the darkness. It must have been around
eleven o'clock.
Henry reached over and patted his rough little back. Watch licked the
hand, but didn't close his eyes. Suddenly he began to growl softly.
"Sh!" said Henry to the dog. Now thoroughly startled, he sat up; Jess
sat up. They did not hear a sound.
"Better shut the door," breathed Henry. Together they rolled the door
very slowly and softly until it was shut.
Still they did not hear anything. But still Watch continued his uneasy
growling.
Violet and Benny slumbered on. Jess and Henry sat motionless, with their
hearts in their mouths.
"Supposing it was some other tramp," whispered Jess, "somebody else that
wanted to sleep here!"
"Watch would bite 'em," whispered Henry briefly. Jess never knew what
confidence Henry had in the faithful dog.
Then a branch cracked sharply outside, and Watch barked out loud. Jess
smothered the dog instantly in her arms. But it had been a bark and it
was loud, clear, and unmistakable.
"That settles it," thought Henry. "Whoever it is, knows there's someone
in here." And the boy waited with the new broom in his hand, expecting
every moment to see the door opened from the outside.
But nothing happened. Nothing at all. The children sat in perfect
silence for at least a half hour, and nothing more was heard. Watch
sniffed a little when Henry finally rolled the door open again. But he
then turned around three times and lay down beside Jess, apparently
satisfied at last.
Taking the dog's conduct as a sure guide, Henry composed himself for
sleep.
"It must have been a rabbit or something," he said to Jess.
The occupants of the freight car slept peacefully until morning.
AT HOME
Jess and Henry had a short committee meeting next morning before the
others awoke. It was agreed that nobody should be allowed to stray off
into the woods alone, not even the dog. And with much mystery Henry left
some orders with all of them, as to what they should build for him
during the morning.
"What for?" asked Benny.
"Shan't tell, old fellow," teased Henry. "You just build it, and you'll
see later."
So Henry walked briskly through the woods, feeling sure that the noise
in the night had been made by a rabbit.
Having no watch, Henry made a slight mistake by appearing at the young
doctor's door before eight o'clock. He was just in time to meet the
doctor coming in from a night call.
If Henry had not been so eager to begin work, he would have noticed how
the young man's dark eyes examined him from head to foot, even to his
plastered hair, wet with brook water. It was not the doctor who directed
his work, but the doctor's mother--the sweet-faced Mrs. McAllister,
whose heart was centered in her son and her vegetable garden.
Her heart warmed to the boy when she saw how carefully he thinned out
the carrots, which had been sadly neglected.
"I have been so busy," she declared, "that I have actually stayed awake
nights worrying about these carrots. There--see that?" She pulled out a
fairly good-sized carrot as she spoke. It had to come out, for it was
much too near its neighbors. In fact, when Henry had thinned out half a
row he had quite a little pile of eatable carrots, each as large as his
thumb. When Mrs. McAllister saw Henry deftly press the earth back again
around the carrots which remained standing, she left him quietly with a
smile. Here was a gardener whom she could trust.
Henry worked steadily in the hot sun, completing row after row of
carrots, parsnips, and onions. When the mill bells rang at noon he
worked on, without noticing that his employer was again watching him.
When he did at last notice her he asked her, smiling, what she wanted
done with the things he had pulled up.
"Oh, throw them away," she said indifferently. "Toss them over into the
orchard, and sometime we'll burn them when they get dry."
"Do you mind if I take them myself?" asked Henry, hesitatingly.
"Oh, no," said Mrs. McAllister cordially. "Have you chickens? That will
be fine."
Henry was thankful that she went right along without waiting for an
answer. But in a way he did have chickens, he thought.
"You must stop working now," she said. "Any time you want to do
something, there will be a place for you here." She gave him a dollar
bill, and left the delighted boy with the piles of precious little
vegetables. As long as Henry expected to return so soon, he hastily
selected an orderly bunch of the largest of the carrots and the smallest
of the onions. He added a few of the miniature parsnips for good
measure. They looked like dolls' vegetables. When Henry walked down the
drive with his "bouquet," he would have seen a face at the window if he
had looked up. But he did not look up. He was too anxious to get to the
little old man's shop and order his meat.
So it happened that Henry walked in upon his little family at about two
o'clock with all the materials for a feast. The feast could not be made
ready before night, Jess hastened to explain to Benny, who was perfectly
satisfied anyway with bread and milk in his pink cup.
"Your building is done," Benny informed his brother. "I builded lots of
it."
"He really did," agreed Violet, leading the way to the sunny open spot a
trifle behind the house. The "building" was a fireplace. With an
enormous amount of labor, the children had made quite a hollow at the
base of a rock. This was lined completely with flat stones. More flat
stones had been set on end to keep out the wind. On top of the stones
lay the most wonderful collection of firewood that you can imagine, all
ready to light. There were chips and bits of crumpled paper, pine cones,
and dry twigs. Beside the big rock was a woodpile. The children had
apparently been working like beavers all the morning. Jess had found a
heavy wire in the dump, and had fastened it between two trees. On the
wire the kettle swung merrily.
"Fine! Fine!" shouted Henry when he saw it. "I couldn't have done it so
well myself." And he honestly believed it.
"We have dinner at night, here," observed Jess impressively. "What did
you buy?"
When the girls saw the tiny vegetables they began with cries of delight
to cut them from their stalks with Henry's knife and a broken paring
knife. They scrubbed them in the "washtub," filled the kettle half full
of water from the "well," and proceeded in great excitement to cut the
raw meat into cubes. When this had been dropped into the kettle, Henry
lighted the fire. It burned frantically, as if it were trying to
encourage the stew to do its best. Violet laid the tin plate over the
top for a cover, and they all stood by to hear the first bubble. Soon
the savory stuff in the kettle began to boil in good earnest. Watch sat
down gravely near it, and gave an approving sniff at intervals.
"Keep it boiling," advised Henry as he departed again. "When I come home
tonight I'll bring some salt. And for mercy's sake, don't get on fire."
Violet pointed silently at the big teapot. The little girl had filled it
with water in case of emergency. "That's if Benny gets on fire," she
explained--"or Watch."
Henry laughed and went on his way happily enough. He wished he might
share the delightful task of keeping the fire going and sniffing the
stew, but when he found out his afternoon's duties, he changed his mind
abruptly.
"Think you can clean up this garage?" asked Dr. McAllister quizzically
when he appeared.
Henry flashed a look around the place, and met the young man's eyes with
a smile. It did need cleaning rather badly. When its owner purred out in
his high-powered little car, Henry drew a long breath and began in
earnest. He opened all the chests of drawers to begin with. Then he
arranged all the tools in the largest deep drawer, and with a
long-handled brush and a can of black paint that was nearly dry, he
labeled the drawer TOOLS with neat lettering. Another drawer he lettered
NAILS, and assorted its contents into a few of the many boxes that were
lying around. He folded up the robes he found, swept off the shelves and
arranged the oil cans in orderly ranks, sorted out innumerable pairs of
gloves, and then swept the floor. He washed the cement floor with the
hose, and while waiting for it to dry he rinsed his brushes in
turpentine.
To tell the truth, Henry had found a few things in the rubbish which he
had stored in his own pocket. The treasure consisted in this case of a
quantity of bent and rusty nails of all sizes, and a few screws and
nuts.
When Dr. McAllister returned at six o'clock he found Henry corking up
the turpentine and arranging the brushes on the shelf.
"My word!" he exclaimed, staring at his garage with his mouth open. Then
he threw back his head and laughed till his mother came down the walk to
see what the matter was.
"Look at my gloves, Mother," he said, wiping his eyes. "All mated up.
They never met each other before, that I remember."
Mrs. McAllister looked the garage over, and observed the newly labeled
drawers. Her son opened one of them, and looked at his four hammers.
"My tack hammer, Mother," he said, "your tack hammer, and two other
hammers! That last one I never expected to see again. If you can use it,
you may have it, my boy."
Now, it is no exaggeration to say that at that moment if Henry had been
asked what he wanted most of anything in the world he would have
answered without any hesitation whatever, "A hammer."
He accepted it gratefully, hardly able to stand still, so anxious was he
to put it into use on the hill he called home.
"Tomorrow's Sunday," said the doctor. "Shall I see you on Monday?"
"Oh, yes," replied Henry, who had lost all track of the days.