CHAPTER XX--THE RABY ROMANCE
Miss True Pettis thrilled with the joy of telling the romance. Thelittle seamstress had been all her life entertaining people with the drydetails of unimportant neighborhood happenings. It was only once in along while that a story like that of the Rabys' came within her ken.
"Why, do you believe me!" she said to Ruth, "that Mis' Raby came ofquite a nice family in Quebec. Not to say Tom Raby wasn't a fine man,for he was, but he warn't educated much and his trade didn't bring 'emmore'n a livin'. But her folks had school teachers, and doctors, andeven ministers in their family--yes, indeed!
"And it seems like, so the Canady lawyer said, that a minister in thefamily what was an uncle of Mis' Raby's, left her and her children someproperty. It was in what he called 'the fun's'--that's like stocks an'bonds, I reckon. But them Canadians talk different from us.
"Well, I can remember that man--tall, lean man he was, with a yallermustache. He had traced the Rabys to Darrowtown, and he saw theminister, and Deacon Giles, and Amoskeag Lanfell, askin' did they knowwhere the Rabys went when they moved away from here.
"I was workin' for Amoskeag's wife that day, so I heard all the talk,"pursued Miss Pettis. "He said--this Canady lawyer did--that the propertyamounted to several thousand dollars. It was left by the minister (whohad no family of his own) to his niece, Mis' Raby, or to her children ifshe was dead.
"Course they asked me if _I_ knowed what became of the family," said thespinster, with some pride. "It bein' well known here in Darrowtown thatI'm most as good as a parish register--and why wouldn't I be? Everybodyexpects me to know all the news. But if I ever _did_ know where themRabys went, I'd forgot, and I told the lawyer man so.
"But he give me his card and axed me to write to him if I ever heardanything further from 'em, or about 'em. And I certain sure would havedone so," declared Miss Pettis, "if it had ever come to my mind."
"Have you the gentleman's card now, Miss True?" asked Ruth, eagerly.
"I s'pect so."
"Will you find it? I know Mr. Steele is interested in the Rabys, and hecan communicate with this Canadian lawyer----"
"Now! ain't you a bright girl?" cried the spinster. "Of course!"
She at once began to hustle about, turning things out of her bureaudrawers, searching the cubby holes of an old maple "secretary" that hadset in the corner of the kitchen since her father's time, discoveringthings which she had mislaid for years--and forgotten--but not coming uponthe card in question right away.
"Of course I've got it," she declared. "I never lose anything--I neverthrow a scrap of anything away that might come of use----"
And still she rummaged. Tom came back with the cart and Ruth had to goshopping. "But do look, Miss Pettis," she begged, "and we'll stop againbefore we go back to the farm."
Tom and she were some time selecting a dozen timely, funny, andattractive nicknacks for the fresh airs. But they succeeded at last, andRuth was sure the girls would be pleased with their selections.
"So much better than spending the money for noise and a powder smell,"added Ruth.
"Humph! the kids would like the noise all right," sniffed Tom. "I heardthose little chaps begging Mr. Caslon for punk and firecrackers. Thatold farmer was a boy himself once, and I bet he got something for themthat will smell of powder, beside the little tad of fireworks he showedme."
"Oh! I hope they won't any of them get burned."
"Kind of put a damper on the 'safe and sane Fourth' Mr. Steele spokeabout, eh?" chuckled Tom.
Miss Pettis was looking out of the window and smiling at them when theyarrived back at the cottage. She held in her hand a yellowed bit ofpasteboard, which she passed to the eager Ruth.
"Where do you suppose I found it, Ruthie?" she demanded.
"I couldn't guess."
"Why, stuck right into the corner of my lookin'-glass in my bedroom. Is'pose I have handled it every day I've dusted that glass for threeyear, an' then couldn't remember where it was. Ain't that thebeatenes'?"
Ruth and Tom drove off in high excitement. She had already told MasterTom all about the Raby romance--such details as he did not alreadyknow--and now they both looked at the yellowed business card before Ruthput it safely away in her pocket:
Mr. Angus MacDorough _Solicitor_ 13, King Crescent, Quebec
"Mr. Steele will go right ahead with this, I know," said Tom, nodding."He's taken a fancy to those kids----"
"Well! he ought to, to Sadie!" cried Ruth.
"Sure. And he's a generous man, after all. Too bad he's taken such adislike to old Caslon."
"Oh, dear, Tom! we ought to fix that," sighed Ruth.
"Crickey! you'd tackle any job in the world, I believe, Ruthie, if youthought you could help folks."
"Nonsense! But both of them--both Mr. Steele and Mr. Caslon--are suchawfully nice people----"
"Well! there's not much hope, I guess. Mr. Steele's lawyer is trying tofind a flaw in Caslon's title. It seems that, way back, a long time ago,some of the Caslons got poor, or careless, and the farm was sold fortaxes. It was never properly straightened out--on the county records,anyway--and the lawyer is trying to see if he can't buy up the interestof whoever bought the farm in at that time--or their heirs--and so havesome kind of a basis for a suit against old Caslon."
"Goodness! that's not very clear," said Ruth, staring.
"No. It's pretty muddy. But you know how some lawyers are. And Mr.Steele is willing to hire the shyster to do it. He thinks it's allright. It's business."
"_Your_ father wouldn't do such a thing, Tom!" cried Ruth.
"No. I hope he wouldn't, anyway," said Master Tom, wagging his head."But I couldn't say that to Bobbins when he told me about it, could I?"
"No call to. But, oh, dear! I hope Mr. Steele won't be successful. I dohope he won't be."
"Same here," grunted Tom. "Just the same, he's a nice man, and I likehim."
"Yes--so do I," admitted Ruth. "But I'd like him so much more, if hewouldn't try to get the best of an old man like Mr. Caslon."
The Raby matter, however, was a more pleasant topic of conversation forthe two friends. The big bay horse got over the ground rapidly--Tom saidthe creature did not know a hill when he saw one!--and it still lackedhalf an hour of noon when they came in sight of Caslon's house.
The orphans were all in force in the front yard. Mr. Caslon appeared,too.
That yard was untidy for the first time since Ruth had seen it. And mostof the untidiness was caused by telltale bits of red, yellow, and greenpaper. Even before the cart came to the gate, Ruth smelled the tang ofpowder smoke.
"Oh, Tom! they _have_ got firecrackers," she exclaimed.
"So have I--a whole box full--under the front seat," chuckled Tom. "What'sthe Fourth without a weeny bit of noise? Bobbins and I are going to letthem off in a big hogshead he's found behind the stable."
"You boys are rascals!" breathed Ruth. "Why! there are the twins!"
Sadie's young brothers ran out to the cart. Mr. Caslon appeared with agood-sized box in his arms, too.
"Just take this--and the youngsters--aboard, will you, young fellow?" saidthe farmer. "Might as well have all the rockets and such up there on thehill. They'll show off better. And the twins was down for the cleanclo'es mother promised them."
It was a two-seated cart and there was plenty of room for the two boyson the back seat. Mr. Caslon carefully placed the open box in the bottomof the cart, between the seats. The fireworks he had purchased had beentaken out of their wrappings and were placed loosely in the box.
"There ye are," said the farmer, jovially. "Hop up here, youngsters!"
He seized Willie and hoisted him into the seat. But Dickie had runaround to the other side of the cart and clambered up like a monkey, tojoin his brother.
"All right, sir," said Tom, wheeling the eager bay horse. It was nearingtime for the latter's oats, and he smelled them! "Out of the way, kids.They'll send a
wagon down for you, all right, after luncheon, I reckon."
Just then Ruth happened to notice something smoking in Dickie's hand.
"What have you there, child?" she demanded. "Not a nasty cigarette?"
He held out, solemnly, and as usual wordlessly, a smoking bit of punk.
"Where did you get that? Oh! drop it!" cried Ruth, fearing for thefireworks and the explosives under the front seat. She meant for Dickieto throw it out of the wagon, but the youngster took the commandliterally.
He dropped it. He dropped it right into the box of fireworks. Thenthings began to happen!