Nearest to the boiling pot--indeed, with his red head almost in the hotsteam--was the little boy Brother and Sister had noticed walking onMiss Putnam's picket fence. A puddle of tar had splashed over on theground and the red-headed boy was stirring it with a stick held betweenhis bare toes.
"Now don't hang around here all day," said one of the workmen, kindlyenough. "Run away before you get burned. Hey, there, Red! Do you wantto blister your foot?"
The red-haired lad grinned mischievously.
"I'd hate to spoil my shoes," he jeered, "but you watch and I'll kickover your old pot! I can, just as easy."
The other children drew nearer, half-believing the boy would tip overthe pot of boiling tar.
"Here," said another and younger workman, "if we give each of you alittle on a stick will you promise to go off and leave us in peace?"
There was an eager chorus of promises, and the good-natured youngroofer actually stuck a little ball of the soft tar on each stickthrust at him and watched the small army of boys and girls march up thestreet, smiling.
"That Mickey Gaffney thinks he's smart," said Nellie Yarrow, who hadfound Brother and Sister in the crowd, as the red-headed boy dashedpast them, waving his stick of tar wildly and shouting like an Indian.
"Do you know him?" asked Sister. "Doesn't he ever wear shoes?"
"I guess so--I don't know. I don't like him," replied Nellieindifferently.
"I don't believe he has any shoes, not even for Sunday," Brother saidto himself. "His coat was all torn and his mother sewed his pants upwith another kind of cloth so that it shows. I wonder where 'bouts helives?"
He opened his mouth to ask Nellie, when Miss Putnam swooped down to thefence as they were passing her house.
"Go way!" she called, leaving her weeding to wave a rake at them. "Go'long with you! Don't you drop any of that messy tar on my sidewalk!"
"What lovely flowers!" whispered Sister as they obediently hurried past.
Indeed, Miss Putnam had made a beautiful garden and lawn of her smallyard, and she did all the work of taking care of it herself.
Sister and Brother carried their tar home with them and left it in thesand heap. Jimmie had six boys playing in the gymnasium with him andthey all stayed to lunch. Molly and Mother Morrison were used to havingunexpected guests, and no matter how many there were, in somemysterious manner plenty of good things to eat appeared on the table.
"Can we come out and watch you?" asked Brother when the boys were goingback to the barn.
"We're going swimming," answered Jimmie.
"Can't we go swimming?" inquired Sister hopefully.
"You can NOT!" retorted Jimmie. "Why don't you take a nap,or--something?"
"Come on out to the barn, Roddy," Sister urged Brother when Jimmie andhis friends had gone whistling on their way to the river.
"Now don't you be meddling with any of those things out there," warnedMolly, clearing the table. "Your brother doesn't like you to touch hisexercises, you know."
Molly called all the apparatus the boys used "exercises."
"We're not going to touch 'em!" declared Sister. "We're only going tolook."
Jimmie seldom snapped his padlock, for lately the children had notbothered the gymnasium in the barn. They found the door open thisafternoon.
"Bet you can't jump off that!" said Sister, pointing to a home-made"horse" that Jimmie had ingeniously contrived.
(If you don't know the kind of "horse" they use in a gymnasium, askyour big brother or sister.)
"Bet I can!" challenged Brother.
They took turns jumping until they were tired, and they went aboutpoking their little fingers and noses into whatever they could find toexamine. Sister's investigations ended sadly enough, for she succeededin pulling down a tray of butterflies that Jimmie was mounting (he hadthought the gymnasium a safe place to keep them out of everyone's way),and now broken glass and crumbled butterflies were scattered all overthe floor.
"Now you've done it!" cried Brother. "Jimmie will be just as mad!"
They found an old broom and swept the broken glass under one of theheavy floor pads. Then, very much subdued, they went into the house andwere so quiet for the rest of the afternoon and through supper thatMother Morrison wondered if they were sick.
They were having dessert when the doorbell rang and Molly went to thedoor. She came back in a moment, her eyes round with wonder and lookingrather frightened.
"It's Mr. Dougherty, sir," she said to Daddy Morrison. "He wants to seeyou."
Mr. Dougherty was Ridgeway's one and only policeman.
CHAPTER XVI
MISS PUTNAM COMPLAINS
At the mention of the policeman's name, Sister had given a gasp. No onenoticed her as Daddy Morrison pushed back his chair and went into thehall.
"I wonder what he wants?" mused Mother Morrison, helping Ralph toblackberries.
"Sister, you're spilling juice on the tablecloth," reproved Dick. "Lookout, there goes another spot."
Sister was trying to eat her berries, and also plan what to say whenthe policeman should send for her. She was sure that he had heard aboutthe broken case of butterflies, for Jimmie, when greatly provoked ather long ago, had threatened to tell Mr. Dougherty of her next misdeed.
"I like Mr. Dougherty," announced Brother sweetly.
No broken butterflies lay heavy on HIS conscience.
Louise and Grace finished their dessert and were excused to goupstairs. The others lingered at the table because Daddy Morrison andMr. Dougherty had gone into the living-room and they did not wish todisturb them.
"Lelia," called Daddy Morrison presently, "will you come here for amoment?"
Leila was Mother Morrison's name, and she rose and went across the hallquickly.
There was a low murmur of talk, an exclamation from Mother Morrison,and then the voice of Mr. Dougherty in the hall.
"Then I'm to tell the Chief that you'll drop in tonight?" he wassaying. "All right, sir, that'll be satisfactory, of course. I'm notoverly fond of this sort of work, but when a woman makes a complaint,you know, we haven't much choice."
"I understand," Daddy Morrison's deep, pleasant voice answered. "I'llget at the truth, and tell the Chief I'll be down at the town hallbefore ten o'clock. Good-night, Dougherty."
"Good-night, sir," said Mr. Dougherty and the screen door slammed.
Daddy Morrison came back to the dining-room.
"Rhodes and Elizabeth, I want to speak to you," he said very gravely."Come up to my den."
Sister's small face went very white.
"I didn't mean to, honest I didn't, Jimmie!" she cried, hurling herselfon that astonished young man and clinging desperately to his coatlapels. "I didn't know they were there till they fell over."
"What ails her?" Jimmie demanded, staring at his father. "What fellover?"
"Your case of butterflies," Brother informed him sadly "We were playingout in the barn and Betty reached up to open a window and the poleknocked the box off."
"Well, I must say--" began Jimmie wrathfully. "I must say! If you twodon't learn to leave my things alone--"
"Save your lecture, Jimmie," advised his father quickly. "I didn't knowabout the butterflies, but I want to ask the children about somethingelse. Come upstairs, now. You, too, Mother."
Brother and Sister followed Mother and Daddy Morrison upstairs, puzzledto know what was to be said to them. If the butterflies made so littledifference to anyone--except Jimmie, who was perfectly boiling, it wasplain to see--what else was there to scold them about? For that it wasto be a scolding neither Brother or Sister doubted--hadn't Daddy calledthem "Rhodes" and "Elizabeth"?
"Now," said Daddy Morrison, when they were all in the little room hecalled his den and he had closed the door, although it was a warmnight, "what were you doing this afternoon?"
"Playing in the barn," answered Brother. "It wasn't locked, Daddy."
"And then you broke Jimmie's case of butterflies," said Daddy. "Whatdid you do then?"
"We
swept the glass under a pad," said Sister, finding her voice. "DidJimmie tell Mr. Dougherty?"
"Jimmie didn't know, and he certainly would not tell the police,"declared Daddy Morrison, smiling a little in spite of his evidentanxiety. "Miss Putnam, children, has made a complaint to the policethat you tracked fresh tar over her porch and sidewalk, and she wantsyou to clean it off. That was why Mr. Dougherty came tonight."
"We won't either clean it off!" cried Brother angrily. "Serve her rightto clean it off herself; mean old thing!"
"Don't let me hear you talk like that again," said Daddy Morrisonsternly. "Did either of you have anything to do with putting tar on herporch or walk?"
"No, sir," replied Brother more meekly.
"But did you PLAY with the tar?" asked Mother Morrison. "Mr. Doughertytold us there were roofers mending the Gillson houses today, and usinghot tar."
"Yes, they gave us some," said Brother honestly enough. "Didn't they,Betty? All the children had some, and we went by Miss Putnam's houseand she yelled at us."
"But we didn't stop," added Sister. "We went right on and came home,didn't we, Roddy?"
"Yes," nodded Brother. "And that was before lunch, Daddy."
Daddy Morrison looked troubled.
"If you say you did not throw the tar, I believe you," he said gravely."You may get into mischief and do wrong things, but I am sure you donot tell wrong stories. I don't see how Miss Putnam can be positiveenough to give your names to the police, but I am going around to seeher now and hear what she has to say. Then I'll stop in at the townhall and see the chief of police."
The telephone rang just then, and he went downstairs. It was onlyhalf-past seven, but Mother Morrison insisted that it was time for themto get ready for bed.
"Your father doesn't want you to speak of the tar to any of yourplaymates," she said as she brushed Sister's hair. "You must be verycareful and not say a word against Miss Putnam. People may makemistakes easily, and we'll try to think as kindly of her as we can.Poor old lady! She must be terribly tormented by the children todislike them so."
"I wish," wept Sister over her sandals as she unbuckled them, "I wish Ihadn't smashed Jimmie's butterflies. Now he's mad at me."
"Well, you know he has asked you not to play in the barn when he isn'tthere to watch you," suggested Mother Morrison mildly. "However, youcan make it up with Jimmie tomorrow; he never holds a grudge."
"Weed the onions for him," advised Brother wisely if sleepily. "Hehates weeding."
"Maybe I will," decided Sister. "Daddy said tonight he couldn't goswimming again until he had worked in the garden."
CHAPTER XVII
MAKING UP WITH JIMMIE
Daddy Morrison went to see Miss Putnam after the children had gone tobed. The old lady was very sure that Brother and Sister had thrown thetar and she was so positive in her assertions that finally he asked herhow she could be so sure.
"Well, one of the neighbors told me," Miss Putnam said reluctantly."No, I don't know your children from any of the others, but she does.All children look pretty much alike to me--noisy, scuffling young ones!No, I couldn't tell you the neighbor's name--I wouldn't want to get herinto any trouble."
When Daddy Morrison went away, she showed him the tar on her porch andsidewalk.
"Somebody ought to be made to clear it off," said Miss Putnam severely.
The chief of police, at the town hall, was a little angry that acomplaint had been made merely on the word of a neighbor, who mighteasily be mistaken about the children she had seen throwing tar.However, as Brother and Sister said they had nothing to do with it, andMiss Putnam refused to believe them, there was nothing to do but letthe complaint stand.
"Keep away from Miss Putnam's house and street," commanded DaddyMorrison at the breakfast table the next morning. "Don't go past herhouse except when it is absolutely necessary. We're not going to haveany more bickering over this matter. Your mother and I believe you andthat is all that is necessary. I shall be seriously displeased if Ifind you are talking it over with outsiders, especially other children."
Ralph and Dick had already taken their way to the station and now DaddyMorrison hurried to get his train.
"Why doesn't he want us to talk about it?" asked Sister, puzzled."Couldn't I tell Nellie Yarrow?"
"I wouldn't," counseled Mother Morrison. "You see, dear, you can't helpfeeling that Miss Putnam has been unfair and every time you tell whatshe has done you will make someone else think she is unfair, too. Yourfriends will take your part, of course, and while you think Miss Putnamis decidedly 'mean,' she is acting right, according to her own ideas.It is never best to talk much about a quarrel of any kind."
Jimmie, who had been eating his breakfast in silence, rose and lookedtoward his mother.
"I suppose I have to work in that old garden?" he said aggrievedly.
"You know what your father said," replied Mother Morrison.
Jimmie did not like to weed, and the Morrison garden, when it came histurn, was often sadly neglected. He and Ralph and Dick were responsiblefor the care of the garden two weeks at a time during the growingseason.
"Well, maybe if I stick at it this morning, I can go swimming thisafternoon," muttered Jimmie. "Dad didn't say the whole thing had to beweeded today, did he?"
"He wants the new heads of lettuce transplanted, and all the onionsweeded," answered Mother Morrison. "You know you were asked to tend tothose a week ago, Jimmie."
Jimmie flung himself out of the house in rather a bad temper. He didnot like to transplant lettuce and the onions must be weeded by hand.Other vegetables could be handled with a hoe, or the garden cultivator,but the eight long rows of new onions must be carefully done down onone's hands and knees.
"Jimmie!" said a little voice at his elbow as he got the trowel and thewheelbarrow from the toolhouse. "Jimmie?"
"Well, what do you want?" demanded Jimmie shortly.
"I'll--I'll help you," offered Sister timidly.
"You can't," said Jimmie. "Last time you crammed the lettuce plants inso hard they died over night."
"But I'll bring the water for 'em, in the watering-pot, and I can weedonions--I know how to do that," insisted Sister humbly.
"I won't need the watering-pot," said Jimmie more graciously. "I'll usethe hose on them all tonight. I wonder if you could weed the onions?"
"Oh, yes!" Sister assured him eagerly. "You watch me, Jimmie."
She fell on her fat little knees, and began to pull the weeds from along row of onions.
The sun was hot and the row was very long. Before she reached themiddle of it, the perspiration was running down Sister's face, and herhands were damp and grimy.
"Look here," Jimmie called to her anxiously, on his way back for morelettuce plants, "don't you want to rest? And why don't you wear asunbonnet, or something?"
Sister stood up, straightening her aching little shoulders.
"Sunbonnets are hot," she explained carefully. "And I don't want torest, Jimmie. I'll go get a drink of water and then I'll weed somemore."
"Bring me a drink, too, will you?" Jimmie called after her.
When she brought it he forgot to say thank you because one of hisfriends had ridden past on his bicycle and this reminded Jimmie that hehad meant to do something to his own wheel that morning. So he drankthe water Sister carried out to him without a word because he wascross, and when we're cross we do not always remember to be polite.
Sister went steadily at the weeding again, and after a while Jimmiefinished the lettuce, and began to weed an onion row himself.
"You can stop if you want to now," he said to Sister presently. "Don'tyou want to play? I can finish these."
"I'm not going to stop till they're all done," announced Sister. "Mollysays the only way to get anything finished is to use plenty ofper--perservance!"
Jimmie laughed and glanced at her curiously.
"I guess you mean PERSEVERANCE" he suggested, "Well, Sister, you arecertainly fine help. It begins to look as though I could go swimm
ingthis afternoon after all."
Surely enough, when Mother Morrison called to them that lunch wasready, they were weeding the last onion row.
"I can finish that in fifteen minutes," declared Jimmie gaily. "You'rea brick, Sister! When you want me to do something for you, just mentionit, will you?"
Sister beamed. She was hot and tired and she knew her face and handswere streaked and dirty. Brother had spent the morning playing withNellie Yarrow and Ellis Carr, and Nellie's aunt had taken them to thedrug store for ice-cream soda. Yet Sister, far from being sorry for herhot, busy morning in the garden, felt very happy.
"Now you don't mind, do you?" she asked Jimmie anxiously.
"Mind what?" he said, putting the wheelbarrow away in the toolhouse.
"About the butterflies," explained Sister.
"I'd forgotten all about them," declared Jimmie, hugging her.
CHAPTER XVIII
MICKEY GAFFNEY
Brother and Sister were very fond of playing school. They carefullysaved all the old pencils and scraps of paper and half-used blank booksthat Grace and Louise and Jimmie gave them, and many mornings theyspent on the porch "going to school."
Neither had ever been to school, and of course they were excited at theprospect of starting in the fall. Brother had had kindergarten lessonsat home and he was ready for the first grade, while Sister would haveto make her start in the Ridgeway school kindergarten.
"I wish summer would hurry up and go," complained Brother one Augustday. "Then we could really go to school."