CHAPTER XIX

  THE ESCAPE

  BETTY capered exultantly when she was on the ground.

  "I packed my things last night," she informed Bob. "If Mr. Peabodyisn't too mean, he'll keep the trunk for me and send it when I writehim to. Here, I'll help you carry back the ladder."

  "Take your sweater and hat," advised the practical Bob, pointing tothese articles lying on a chair on the porch where Betty had left themthe afternoon before. "You don't want to travel too light. I thinkwe'll have a storm before noon."

  Betty helped carry the ladder back to the barn and put it in place.Then she hung around watching Bob harness up the sorrel to thedilapidated old wagon preparatory to driving to Laurel Grove, a town tothe east of Glenside.

  "I'd kind of like to say good-bye to Mrs. Peabody," ventured Betty,trying to fix a buckle.

  "Well, you can't. That would get us both in trouble," returned Bobshortly. "There! you've dawdled till here comes the old man. Scoot outthe side door and keep close to the hedge. If I overtake you beforeyou get to the crossroads I'll give you a lift. Doc Guerin will knowwhat you ought to do."

  Her heart quaking, Betty scuttled for the narrow side door and creptdown the lane, keeping close to the osage orange hedge that made athick screen for the fence. Evidently she was not seen, for she reachedthe main road safely, hearing no hue and cry behind her.

  "So you haven't started?" Peabody greeted the somewhat flustered Bob,entering the barn and looking, for him, almost amiable. "Well, hitchthe horse, and go over to Kepplers. He wants you to help him catch acrate of chickens. The horse can wait and you can come home at twelveand go to Laurel Grove after dinner."

  Bob would have preferred to start on his errand at once, so that hemight be at a safe distance when Betty's absence should be discovered;but he hoped that Peabody might not go near her room till afternoon,and he knew Mrs. Peabody was too thoroughly cowed to try to communicatewith Betty, fond as she was of her.

  "I'll take a chance," thought Bob. "Anyway, the worst he can do to meis to kill me."

  This not especially cheerful observation had seen Bob through manya tight place in the past, and now he tied the patient horse undera shady tree and went whistling over to the Keppler farm to chasechickens for a hot morning's work.

  "Oh, Bob!" To his amazement, Mrs. Peabody came running to meet him whenhe came back at noon to get his dinner. "Oh, Bob!"

  Poor Bob felt a wobbling sensation in his knees.

  "Yes?" he asked shakily. "Yes, what is it?"

  "The most awful thing has happened!" Mrs. Peabody wiped theperspiration from her forehead with her apron. "The most awful thing! Inever saw Joseph in such a temper, never! He swore till I thought he'dshrivel up the grass! And before Mr. Ryerson, too!"

  Bob's face cleared.

  "Did he try to cheat Ryerson?" he asked eagerly. "That is, er--I meandid he think Ryerson was trying to cheat him?"

  "Cheat?" repeated Mrs. Peabody, sitting down on an old tree stump toget her breath. "No one said anything about cheating. I don't knowexactly how to tell you, Bob. Betty has gone and she's taken all thechickens with her!"

  Bob opened his eyes and mouth to their widest extent. Chickens! Betty!The words danced through his brain stupidly.

  "I don't wonder you look like that," said Mrs. Peabody. "I was in adaze myself."

  "But she couldn't have taken the chickens!" argued Bob, restraining amad desire to laugh. "How could she? And what would she want with them?"

  "Well, of course, I don't mean she took them with her," admitted Mrs.Peabody. "But she was mad at Joseph, you know, for locking her in herroom, and he says she's just driven the hens off to the woods to spitehim."

  Bob walked out to the poultry yard, followed by Mrs. Peabody. The doorsof the henhouses were flung wide open, and there was not a fowl insight.

  "When did you find it out?" he asked.

  "When Mr. Ryerson drove in for the hens," answered Mrs. Peabody."Joseph went out with him to help him bag 'em, and the minute he openedthe door he gave a yell. I was making beds, but I heard him. The way hecarried on, Bob, was a perfect scandal. I never heard such talk, never!"

  "Where is he now?" said Bob briefly.

  "He's gone over to the woods, hunting for the hens," replied Mrs.Peabody. "He wouldn't stop for dinner, or even to take the horse. Hesays you're to start for Laurel Grove, soon as you've eaten. He's goingto search the woods and then follow the Glenside road, looking forBetty."

  Bob did not worry over the possibility of Betty being overtaken by theangry farmer. He counted on her getting a lift to Glenside, since theroad was well traveled in the morning, and probably she was at thisvery moment sitting down to lunch with the doctor's family. He waspuzzled about the loss of the chickens, and curious to know how thePeabodys had discovered Betty's escape.

  He and Mrs. Peabody sat down to dinner, and, partly because of herexcitement and partly because in her husband's absence she dared to bemore generous, Bob made an excellent meal. Over his second piece of piehe ventured to ask when they had found out that Betty was not in herroom.

  "Oh, Joseph thought of her as soon as he missed the chickens," answeredMrs. Peabody. "I never thought she would be spiteful, but I declareit's queer, anyway you look at it. Joseph flew up to her room andunlocked the door, and she wasn't there! Do you suppose she could havejumped from the window and hurt herself?"

  Bob thought it quite possible.

  "Well, I don't," said Mrs. Peabody shrewdly. "However, I'm not askingquestions, so there's no call for you to get all red. Joseph seemed tothink she had jumped out, and he's furious because he didn't nail upboth windows, though how he expected Betty to breathe in that case ismore than I can see."

  Bob was relieved to learn that apparently Mr. Peabody did not connecthim with Betty's disappearance. He finished his dinner and went out todo the few noon chores. Then he started on the drive to Laurel Grove.

  "Looks like a storm," he muttered to himself, as he noted the heavywhite clouds piling up toward the south. "I wish to goodness, oldPeabody would spend a few cents and get an awning for the seat of thiswagon. Last time I was caught in a storm I got soaked, and my clothesdidn't dry overnight. I'll be hanged if I'm going to get wet thistime--I'll drive in somewhere first."

  Bob's predictions of a storm proved correct, and before he had gone twomiles he heard distant thunder.

  With the first splash of rain Bob hurried the sorrel, keeping his eyesopen for a mail-box that would mark the home of some farmer where hemight drive into the barn and wait till the shower was over.

  He came within sight of some prosperous looking red barns before therain was heavy, and drove into a narrow lane just as the first vividstreak of lightning ripped a jagged rent in the black clouds.

  "Come right on in," called out the farmer, who had seen him comingand thrown open the double doors. "Looks like it might be a hummer,doesn't it? There's a ring there in the wall where you can tie yourhorse."

  "He stands without hitching," grinned Bob. "Only too glad to get thechance. Gee, that wind feels good!"

  The farmer brought out a couple of boxes and turned them up to serve asseats.

  "I like to watch a storm," he observed. "The house is all lockedup--women-folk gone to an all-day session of the sewing circle--or I'dtake you in. We'd get soaked walking that short distance, though. Youdon't live around here, do you?"

  "Bramble Farm. I'm a poorhouse rat the Peabodys took to bring up."

  He had seldom used that phrase since Betty's coming, but it alwaysirritated him to try to explain who he was and where he came from.

  "I was bound out myself," retorted the farmer quickly. "Knocked arounda good bit, but now I own this ninety acres, free and clear. You've gotjust as good a chance as the boy with too much done for him. Don't youforget that, young man."

  They were silent for a few moments, watching the play of lightningthrough the wide doors.

  "Didn't two men named Wapley and Lieson used to work for Peabody?"asked the farmer abru
ptly. "I thought so," as Bob nodded. "They werearound the other day asking for jobs."

  "Are you sure?" asked Bob. "I thought they had left the state. Lieson,I know, had folks across the line."

  "Well, they may have gone now," was the reply. "But I know that twodays ago they wanted work. I've a couple of men, all I can use justnow, but I sent them on to a neighbor. They looked strong, and goodfarm help is mighty scarce."

  Bob waited till the rain had stopped and the clouds were lifting, thendrove on, thanking the friendly farmer for his cordiality.

  "Don't be calling yourself names, but plan what you want to make ofyourself," was that individual's parting advice.

  "If I had a nickel," said Bob to himself, urging the sorrel to a brisktrot, for the time spent in waiting must be made up, "I'd telephone toBetty from Laurel Grove. But pshaw! I know she must be all right."

 
Alice B. Emerson's Novels
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