Missing children -- Juvenile fiction; Social classes -- Juvenile fiction
"I reckon by your looks you're the boy what tackled the burglar last
night? Well, you showed clean grit, an' no mistake. Can you tell me what
the matter is with aunt Dorcas? This 'ere friend of yours seems to be
all mixed up; don't appear to know much of anything."
"She wants to go to the city, sir, an' to get there quick."
"There must be some powerful reason behind it all for Dorcas Milford to
send any sich message as this boy brought. I allow he mistook her
meanin', so to speak, eh?"
"I didn't mistook anything," Plums cried, indignantly. "She said to tell
you she must be carried to the ferry at once, very emphatically, an' she
didn't want you to be puttin' her off with any excuses."
"Is that so, sonny?" the farmer asked of Joe.
"I don't think she said it exactly that way, an' Plums wasn't told you
shouldn't make any excuses; but aunt Dorcas wants to go in a hurry, I
know that much."
"Anybody dead, eh?"
"No, sir."
"The burglar didn't get away with anything, eh?"
"No, sir."
Before the farmer could ask any more questions, aunt Dorcas herself
appeared on the scene.
"I'm glad you came quickly, Mr. McArthur, because I'm in a great hurry,"
she said, nervously. "Don't stop to drive up to the house, but turn
around right here."
The farmer looked at her for a moment, and then, mildly urging the
patient steed on, he drove in a circle as wide as the lane would permit,
saying, meanwhile:
"It seems to me, Dorcas Milford, I'd send some word by telegraph, rather
than get into sich a pucker. I never knowed you to be so kinder flighty
as you're appearin' now."
"I shall be a good deal worse, Mr. McArthur, if you don't start very
soon," aunt Dorcas replied, in a matter-of-fact tone, which alarmed her
neighbour more than a threat from some other person would have done.
"Take good care of the princess; don't get crumbs on the floor, an' be
sure to eat all you need," aunt Dorcas cried, as the vehicle was whirled
almost rapidly around the corner of the lane into the highway. And Plums
shouted:
"When'll you be back?"
"I can't say; be good boys, an' I'll come as soon as ever it's
possible."
Then the little woman had disappeared from view, and Master Plummer,
turning to his friend, asked, seriously:
"Do you s'pose there's anything gone wrong with aunt Dorcas's head? It
seems to me she don't act as if she was jest straight."
"Now don't be foolish, Plums. If everybody in this world was as straight
as she is, us boys would have a snap."
"But she seems to think she can fix all this, else why did she rush off
so?"
"If anybody can straighten things out, she's the one, though I don't see
how it's goin' to be done. Let's go into the house, an' do the work. I
b'lieve I can wash the dishes without breakin' any of 'em."
"What's the use to rush 'round like this? I'm all tired out goin' over
to McArthur's, an' there's no knowin' what'll happen if I can't get a
chance to rest."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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