CHAPTER XVI--THE RUNAWAY
Madge said, in something like perplexity: "You _do_ pick up thestrangest acquaintances, Ruth Fielding. She really does, Ma. But thathas always been Ruth's way."
Mrs. Steele was first disturbed over her husband's condition. "Go rightaway and change into dry garments--do, Father," she urged. "You will getyour death of cold standing there. And shut the door. Oh! thatlightning!"
They had to wait for the thunder to roll away before they could hear heragain, although Mr. Steele hurried upstairs without another glance atthe bedrabbled child he had brought in out of the storm.
"This--this girl must go somewhere and dry herself," hesitated Mrs.Steele, when next she spoke. "My! isn't she a sight? Call one of themaids, someone----"
"Oh, dear Mrs. Steele!" exclaimed Ruth, eagerly, "let me take Sadieupstairs and look after her. I am sure I have something she can put on."
"So have I, if you haven't," interposed Helen. "And my clothes will comenearer fitting her than Ruth's. Ruth is getting almost as fat as Heavy!"
"There is no need of either of you sacrificing your clothes," said Mrs.Steele, slowly. "Of course, I have plenty of outgrown garments of my owndaughters' put away. Yes. You take care of her if you wish, Ruth, and Iwill hunt out the things."
Here the strange girl interposed. She had been darting quick, shrewdglances about the hall at the girls and boys there gathered, and now shesaid:
"Ye don't hafter do nothing for me. A little rainwater won't hurt me--Iain't neither sugar nor salt. All I wants to know is where them freshair kids is stayin'. I ain't afraid of the rain--it's the thunder andlightning that scares me."
"Goodness knows," laughed Madge, "I guess the water wouldn't hurt you.But we'll fix you up a little better, I guess."
"Let Ruth do it," said Mrs. Steele, sharply. "She says she knows thegirl."
"She's a friend of mine," said the girl of the Red Mill, frankly. "Yousurely remember me, Sadie Raby?"
"Oh, I remember ye, Miss," returned the runaway. "You was kind to me,too."
"Come on, then," said Ruth, briskly. "I'm only going to be kind to youagain--and so is Mrs. Steele going to be kind. Come on!"
An hour later an entirely different looking girl appeared with Ruth inthe big room at the top of the house which the visiting girls occupied.Some of them had come upstairs, for the tempest was over now, and weremaking ready for dinner by slow stages, it still being some time off,and there was nothing else to do.
"This is Sadie Raby, girls," explained Ruth, quietly. "She is the sisterof those cute little twins that are staying at the Caslons' place. Shehas had a hard time getting here, and because she hasn't seen Willie andDickie for eight months, or more, she is very anxious to see them. Theyare all she has in the world."
"And I reckon they're a handful," laughed Heavy. "Come on! tell us allabout it, Sadie."
It was because of the "terrible twins" that Ruth had gotten Sadie totalk at all. The girl, since leaving "them Perkinses," near Briarwood,had had a most distressful time in many ways, and she was reticent abouther adventures.
But she warmed toward Ruth and the others when she found that theyreally were sincerely interested in her trials, and were, likewise,interested in the twins.
"Them kids must ha' growed lots since I seen 'em," she said, wistfully."I wrote a letter to a girl that works right near the orphanage. Shewrote back that the twins was coming out here for a while. So I throwedup my job at Campton and hiked over here."
"Dear me! all that way?" cried Helen, pityingly.
"I walked farther than that after I left them Perkinses," declaredSadie, promptly. "I walked clean from Lumberton to Cheslow--followed therailroad most of the way. Then I struck off through the fields and wentto a mill on the river, and worked there for a week, for an old lady.She was nice----"
"I guess she is!" cried Ruth, quickly. "Didn't you know that was _my_home you went to? And you worked for Aunt Alvirah and Uncle Jabez."
No, Sadie had not known that. The little old woman had spoken of therebeing a girl at the Red Mill sometimes, but Sadie had not suspected theidentity of that girl.
"And then, when you were still near Cheslow, my brother Tom, and hisdog, rescued you from the tramps," cried Helen.
"Was that your brother, Miss?" responded Sadie. "Well! he's a nicefeller. He got me a ride clear to Campton. I've been workin' there andearnin' my board and keep. But I couldn't save much, and it's all gonenow."
"But what do you really expect to do here?" asked Madge Steele,curiously.
"I gotter see them kids," declared Sadie, doggedly. "Seems to me,sometimes, as though something would bust right inside of me here," andshe clutched her dress at its bosom, "if I don't see Willie and Dickie.I thought this big house was likely where the fresh airs was."
"I should say not!" murmured Madge.
"They're all right--don't you be afraid," said Ruth, softly.
"I thought mebbe the folks that was keepin' the kids would let me workfor them," said Sadie, presently. "For kids is a lot of trouble, and I'mused to 'em. The matron at the home said I had a way with young'uns."
She told them a good deal more about her adventures within the next halfhour, but Madge had left the room just after making her last speech.While the girls were still listening to the runaway, a maid rapped atthe door.
"Mr. Steele will see this--this strange girl in the library," announcedthe servant.
Sadie looked a little scared for a moment, and glanced wildly around thebig room for some way of escape.
"Gee! I ain't got to talk with that man, have I?" she whispered.
"He won't bite you," laughed Heavy.
"He's just as kind as kind can be," declared Helen.
"I'll go down with you," said Ruth, decisively. "You have plenty offriends now, Sadie. You mustn't be expecting to run away all the time."
Sadie Raby went with Ruth doubtfully. The latter was somewhat disturbedherself when she saw Mr. Steele's serious visage.
"You'll excuse me, Mr. Steele?" suggested Ruth, timidly. "But she is allalone--and I thought it would encourage her to have me here----"
"That is like your kind heart, Ruth," said the gentleman, nodding. "Idon't mind. Madge has told me her story. It seems that the child israther wild--er--flighty, as it were. I suppose she wants to run away fromus, too?"
"I ain't figurin' to stay here," said Sadie, doggedly. "I'm obleeged toyou, but this ain't the house I was aimin' for."
"Humph! no. But I am not sure at all that you would be in good handsdown there at Caslon's."
Ruth was sorry to hear him say this. But Sadie broke in with: "I don'tkeer how they treat me as long as I'm with my brothers. And _they_ aredown there, this Ruth girl says."
"Yes. I quite understand that. But we all have our duty to perform inthis world," said Mr. Steele, gravely. "I wonder that you have fallen inwith nobody before who has seen the enormity of letting you run wildthroughout the country. It is preposterous--wrong--impossible! I neverheard of the like before--a child of your age tramping in the open."
"I didn't do no harm," began Sadie, half fearful of him again.
"Of course it is not your fault," said Mr. Steele, quickly. "But youwere put in the hands of people who are responsible to the institutionyou came from for their treatment of you----"
"Them Perkinses?" exclaimed Sadie, fearfully. "I won't never go back tothem--not while I'm alive I won't! I don't care! I jest won't!"
She spoke wildly. She turned to run from the room and would have doneso, had not Ruth been there to stop her and hold her in her arms.