CHAPTER XIII
THE HUE AND CRY
Ruth Kenway's suggestion bore the stamp of common sense, and even theexcited mother of Sammy Pinkney accepted that as a fact. Sammy had beenplaying almost exclusively with the little Corner House girls of late(quite to his anxious mother's satisfaction, be it said) and if Dot wasabsent the boy was in all probability with her.
"Well, he certainly cannot have got into much mischief with littleDorothy along," sighed Mrs. Pinkney, relieved. "But I most certainlyshall punish him when he comes back, for I forbade his leaving the yardthis morning. And I shall tell his father."
This last promise made Tess look very serious. It was the mostthreatening speech that the good woman ever addressed to Sammy. Mr.Pinkney seemed a good deal like a bugaboo to the little Corner Housegirls; he was held over Sammy's head often as a threat of direpunishment. Sammy and his father, however, seemed to understand eachother pretty well.
Sammy had once confided to the little Corner House girls that "We menhave to hang together"; and although he respected his father, and fearedwhat the latter might do in the way of punishment, the punishment wasusually inflicted by Mrs. Pinkney, after all.
Sometimes when his mother considered that the boy had beenextraordinarily naughty and she told the fact to his father, that wiseman would take his son by the hand and walk away with him. Sammy alwaysstarted on one of these walks with a most serious expression ofcountenance; but whatever was said to him, or done to him, during theseabsences, Sammy always returned with a cheerful mien and with apocketful of goodies for himself and something extra nice for hismother.
Neale O'Neil frequently declared that Mr. Pinkney was one of the wisestmen of his time and probably "put it all over old Solomon. They saySolomon had a lot of wives," Neale remarked. "But I bet he didn't knowhalf as much about women and how to handle them as Mr. Pinkney does."
However, to get back to the discovery of the absence of Sammy and Dot.After Tess had searched the neighborhood without finding any trace ofthem, and Agnes had returned from down town, a council was held.
"Why, they did not even take Tom Jonah with them," observed Ruth.
"If they had," said Agnes, almost ready to weep, "we would be sure theywere not really lost."
"Can't you find out at the police station?" suggested Cecile.
"Oh, my! Oh my!" cried Tess, in horror. "You don't s'pose our Dot hasreally been _arrested_?"
"Listen to the child!" exclaimed Mrs. Pinkney, kissing her. "Of coursenot. The young lady means that the police may help find them. But I donot know what Sam'l Pinkney would say if he thought the officers had tolook for his son."
Ruth, in her usual decisive way, brooked no further delay. Surely themissing boy and girl had not gone straight up into the air, nor had theysunk into the ground. They could not have traveled far away from thecorner of Willow and Main Streets without somebody seeing them who wouldremember the fact.
She went to the telephone and began calling up people whom she knew allabout town, and after explaining to Central the need for her inquiries,that rather tart young person did all in her power to give Ruth quickconnections.
Finally she remembered Mrs. Kranz. Dot and Sammy might have gone toMeadow Street, for many of their schoolmates lived in the tenementsalong that rather poor thoroughfare.
Maria Maroni answered the telephone and she, of course, had news of thelost children.
"Why, Miss Ruth," asked the little Italian girl into the transmitter,"wasn't you going on the picnic, too?"
"What picnic!" asked the eldest Corner House girl at the other end ofthe wire.
"Mrs. Kranz says Dottie and that little boy were going on a picnic. Surethey were! I sold them crackers and cheese and a lot of things. And myfather sent you a basket of fruit like he always does. We thought youand Miss Agnes would be going, too."
Ruth reported this to the others; but the puzzle of the children'sabsence seemed not at all explained. Nobody whom Ruth and Agnes askedseemed to know any picnic slated for this day.
"They must have made it up themselves--all their own selves," Agnesdeclared. "They have gone off alone to picnic."
"Where would they be likely to go?" asked Luke Shepard, wishing to behelpful. "Is there a park over that way--or some regular picnickinggrounds?"
"There's the canal bank," Ruth said quickly. "It's open fields alongthere. Sometimes the children have gone there with us."
"I just _know_ Sammy has fallen in and been drowned," declared Mrs.Pinkney, accepting the supposition as a fact on the instant. "What willI ever say to Sam'l to-night when he comes home?"
"Well," said Tess, encouragingly, "I guess he won't spank Sammy fordoing that. At least, I shouldn't think he would."
The older folk did not pay much attention to her philosophy. They wereall more or less worried, including Mrs. MacCall and Aunt Sarah. Thelatter displayed more trouble over Dot's absence than one might haveexpected, knowing the maiden lady's usual unattached manner of lookingat all domestic matters.
Ruth, feeling more responsibility after all than anybody else--andperhaps with more anxious love in her heart for Dot than the others, forhad she not had the principal care of Dot since babyhood?--could not beconvinced now that all they could do was to wait.
"There must be some way of tracing them," she declared. "If they wereover on Meadow Street somebody must have seen them after they left Mrs.Kranz's store."
"That is the place to take up their trail, Ruth," Luke said. "Tell mehow to find the store and I'll go down there and make enquiries."
"I will go with you," the eldest Corner House girl said quickly. "I knowthe people there and you don't."
"I'll go, too!" cried Agnes, wiping her eyes.
"No," said her sister decisively. "No use in more going. You remain athome with Tess and Cecile. I am much obliged to you, Luke. We'll startat once."
"And without your lunch?" cried Mrs. MacCall.
Ruth had no thought for lunch, and Luke denied all desire for the middaymeal. "Come on!" he prophesied boldly, "we'll find those kids before weeat."
"Oh!" sighed Agnes, "I wish Neale O'Neil had not gone fishing. Then hecould have chased around in the automobile and found those naughtychildren in a hurry."
"He would not know where to look for them any more than we do," hersister said. "All ready, Luke."
They set off briskly for the other side of town. Luke said:
"Wish I knew how to run an auto myself. That's going to be my very nextaddition to the sum of my knowledge. I could have taken you out in yourcar myself."
"Not without a license in this county," said Ruth. "And we'll do verywell. I _hope_ nothing has happened to these children."
"Of course nothing has," he said comfortingly. "That is, nothing that alittle soap and water and a spanking won't cure."
"No. Dot has never been punished in that way."
"But Sammy has--oft and again," chuckled Luke. "And of course he is toblame for this escapade."
"I'm not altogether sure of that," said the just Ruth, who knew Dot'stemperament if anybody did. "It doesn't matter which is the most toblame. I want to find them."
But this was a task not easy to perform, as they soon found out afterreaching Meadow Street. Certainly Mrs. Kranz remembered all about thechildren coming to her store that morning--all but one thing. She stuckto it that Dot had said they were going on a picnic. The word "pirates"was strange to the ear of the German woman, so having misunderstood itthe picnic idea was firmly fixed in her mind.
Maria Maroni had been too busy to watch which way Dot and Sammy went;nor did her father remember this important point. After leaving thestore the runaways seemed to have utterly disappeared.
Ruth did not admit this woful fact until she had interviewed almosteverybody she knew in the neighborhood. Sadie Goronofsky and herbrothers and sisters scattered in all directions to find trace of Dotand Sammy. There was a mild panic when one child came shrieking intoMrs. Kranz's store that a little girl with a dog had been seen ov
er bythe blacksmith shop, and that she had been carried off on a canalboat.
"Them canalboatmen would steal anything, you bet," said SadieGoronofsky, with confidence. "They're awful pad men--sure!"
Luke went down to the blacksmith shop and learned that the horseshoerknew exactly who the canalboatman in question was. And he knew about thelittle girl seen with him as well.
"That's Cap'n Bill Quigg and Louise. She is his twelve year old gal--andas smart as Bill is lazy. The dog belongs to them. Ornery hound. Wasn'tanybody with them, and the old _Nancy Hanks_, their barge, has gone ontoward Durginville. Went along about the time it showered."
The thunderstorm that had passed lightly over the edge of Milton hadoccurred before Ruth and Luke left the Corner House. This news which theyoung man brought back from the blacksmith shop seemed not to help thematter in the least. He and Ruth went over to the canal and asked peoplewhom they met. Many had seen the canalboat going toward Durginville; butnobody had spied Sammy and Dot.
Where else could they go with any reasonable hope of finding trace ofthe runaways? Sammy and Dot, going directly across the open fields tothe moored canalboat, and getting aboard that craft and into the hold,their small figures had not been spied by those living or working in theneighborhood.
The searchers went home, Ruth almost in tears and Luke vastly perturbedbecause he could not really aid her. Besides, he was getting very muchworried now. It did seem as though something serious must have happenedto Sammy Pinkney and Dot Kenway.