The Corner House Girls

  CHAPTER XII

  MRS. KRANZ COMES TO CALL

  The girls came down from the garret in a hurry, when they heard thisnews. Uncle Rufus hobbled on before to the kitchen. There wasSandy-face and Spotty in front of the range. They were both very wetand the old cat was licking the kitten dry.

  "Where--where's the others?" cried Tess. "Did you find Almira?"

  "I want my Bungle," declared Dot. "Didn't you find my Bungle kitten,Uncle Rufus?"

  "Sho, chile! I didn't say I foun' dem kittens. I on'y say I knowedwhere dey went."

  "Where?" was the chorused demand.

  Uncle Rufus rolled his eyes and chuckled deeply. "Das ol' cat play ajoke on we-uns," he declared. "She t'ink she an' de kittens on'y comeyere for a visit. And so she lug 'em all back to Mars' Stetson'sstore--ya-as'm!"

  "Carried them back to the store?" cried Ruth. "Oh! she couldn't."

  "Ya-as'm. One at a time. In her teef," said Uncle Rufus, noddingconfidently. "I jes' kotch her out on the sidewalk wid dis leetlebrack kitten, marchin' straight fo' de store. Dat how she come go 'wayan' stay so long. Nex' time you go to Mars' Stetson's, you find demdere--sho'."

  "But she couldn't have taken them out of the woodshed," cried Agnes.

  "Ya-as'm, she did. She git out de winder. A cat kin squeeze through amoughty small space--so she kin."

  "Why, you foolish Sandy-face!" exclaimed Dot. "And we tried to makeyou feel at home--didn't we, Ruthie?"

  "Butter her feet," said Aunt Sarah, who chanced to be in the kitchenat the moment. "I told you that before," and she walked out.

  "Goodness! we'll butter all their feet," cried Agnes, "if that willkeep them here. Just as soon as it holds up a little, I'll run over toMr. Stetson's and see if it is so. The poor old thing! to carry thosekittens so far. But, me-oh-my! cats haven't much sense, after all,have they?"

  Uncle Rufus was proved right--and that before supper time. The rainheld up, and Agnes scurried over to the store, bringing back, huddledin a small covered basket, Popocatepetl, Almira, and Bungle, who allseemed very glad to rejoin Spotty. Sandy-face looked absurdly pleasedto see them--just as though she had not carried them back, one by one,to a hiding place behind the flour barrels in Mr. Stetson'sstore-room!

  Agnes insisted upon buttering the mother-cat's paws. And to make sureof it, she buttered the paws of the four kittens as well.

  "There," she said, "when Sandy gets through lapping all that butterup, she ought to be _proud_ to stay here, for butter's forty cents apound right now!"

  "You extravagant thing," sighed Ruth, shaking her head.

  "Yes!" cried Agnes. "And it's so nice to be extravagant. I declare,Ruth, I feel that I was just born to be a rich girl. It _tickles_ meto be extravagant."

  Since returning from Mr. Howbridge's office, Ruth had evolved aquestion that she wished to put to Uncle Rufus. The mystery of thelost will was ever present in the mind of the oldest of the CornerHouse girls, and this query had to do with that mystery.

  "Uncle Rufus," she asked the old man, after dinner that evening whenhe was carefully putting away the silver and they were alone togetherin the dining-room, "Uncle Rufus, do you know where Uncle Peter usedto keep his private papers?"

  "Sho', Missie, he kept dem in de safe in his study--ya-as'm. Yo' knowdat safe; don't yo'?"

  "But Mr. Howbridge has the key to that safe, and to the desk, and all.And there are some things--quite important things--that he can't find.Didn't Uncle Peter have some other hiding place?"

  "Glo-ree, Missie! I 'spect he did," said Uncle Rufus, rolling hiseyes. "But I nebber knowed whar dat is."

  "And you lived right here with him all those years?"

  "Why, Missie, I tell yo' how it was," said Uncle Rufus, dropping hisvoice. "Yo' see, latterly, Mars' Peter got pecool'ar--ya-as'm. Yo'might call it pecool'ar. I knowed he was superstitious offolks--ya-as'm. He used ter send me out on errands--plumb foolisherrands, Missie; den I reckon he hid t'ings away. But I don' knowwhar."

  "You haven't the least suspicion?" asked Ruth, anxiously.

  "Well now!" said Uncle Rufus, rubbing the bald spot on his head asthough to stir his wits into action. "Dar was dat time he got mad atme."

  "What about?"

  "I warn't gone so long on an errand, lak' he 'spected me ter be, Ireckon. An' w'en I come back he warn't in his room, an' dere he wasa-comin' down from de garret with a lighted candle."

  "From the garret?"

  "Yes, Missie. An' he sho' was mad with ol' Unc' Rufus."

  "Perhaps he hid papers, then, in one of those chests, or bureaus upthere?"

  "Cyan't say, Missie. Mebbe. But yo' don' ketch Unc' Rufus goin' up demgarret stairs much--no'm!"

  "Why not, Uncle Rufus?" asked Ruth, quickly. "Are you afraid of thegarret ghost?"

  "Glo-ree! who done tell yo' erbout _dat_?" demanded the colored man,rolling his eyes again. "Don' talk erbout ghos'es; it's sho' baidluck."

  That was all Ruth could get out of the old negro. He had all the fearof his race for supernatural things.

  It was the next day that Mrs. Kranz came to call. The Corner Housegirls had never seen Mrs. Kranz before, but they never could forgether after their first view of her!

  She was a huge lady, in a purple dress, and with a sweeping gray plumeon her big hat, and lavender gloves. She had the misfortune to possessa hair-mole on one of her cheeks, and Dot could not keep her eyes offof that blemish, although she knew it was impolite to stare.

  Mrs. Kranz came to the front door of the old Corner House and gave aresounding summons on the big, brass knocker that decorated the middlepanel. Nobody had ventured to approach that door, save Mr. Howbridge,since the Corner House girls had come to Milton.

  "Goodness! who can that be?" demanded Agnes, when the reverberationsof the knocker echoed through the big hall.

  "Company! I know it's company!" cried Tess, running to peer out of thedining-room window.

  Ruth gave a glance about the big room, which they still made theirsitting room in general, and approached the hall. Dot whispered:

  "Oh-ee! I hope there are some little girls coming to call."

  There was nobody but this huge lady, though half a dozen little girlsmight have hidden behind her voluminous skirts. Ruth smiled upon thegiantess and said, quickly, "Good-morning!"

  "Vell!" was the deep-throated reply--almost a grunt. "Vell! iss defamily home?"

  "Certainly," said Ruth, in her politest way. "Do come in. We are allat home," and she ushered the visitor into the dining-room.

  The lady stared hard at all the girls, and then around at theold-fashioned furniture; at the plate rail of Delft china which Ruthhad taken out of a cupboard, where it had been hidden away for years;at the ancient cellarette; and at the few pieces of heavy plate withwhich the highboy and the lowboy were both decorated.

  "Vell!" exclaimed the visitor, in that exceedingly heavy voice ofhers, and for the third time. "I hear dere iss onlymadchens--girls--in dis house. Iss dot so--heh?"

  "We are the four Kenway girls," said Ruth, pleasantly. "We have nomother or father. But Aunt Sarah----"

  "But you own dis house undt all de odder houses vot belonged to dotcr-r-ra-zy old mans--heh?"

  Ruth flushed a little. She had begun to feel that such references toUncle Peter were both unkind and insulting. "Uncle Peter left hisproperty by will to us," she said.

  "Vell, I am Mrs. Kranz," said the large lady, her little eyessparkling in rather a strange way, Ruth thought.

  "We are very glad to meet you--to have you call, Mrs. Kranz," Ruthsaid. "Not many of our neighbors have been in to see us as yet."

  "I aind't von of de neighbors, Miss Kenway," said the visitor. "I amchoose Mrs. Kranz. I keeps de grocery store on Meadow Street yet."

  "We are just as glad to see you, Mrs. Kranz," returned Ruth, stillsmiling, "although you do not live very near us," for she knew thatMeadow Street was at the other side of the town.

  "Vell! maype nodt," said Mrs. Kranz. "Maype you iss nodt so glad tosee me yet. I gome t
o tell you dot I vill nodt stand for dot JoeMaroni no longer. He has got to get dot cellar oudt. His r-r-rottenvegetables smells in mine nostrils. His young vuns iss in my vay--undtdey steal. An' dey are all very, very dirty.

  "I keep a nice shop--eferbody vill tell you so, Miss Kenway. Idt iss aclean shop, and them _Eye_-talians dey iss like pigs yet--de vay deylif!" cried Mrs. Kranz, excitedly. "I pay mine rent, undt I haf minerights. I gome to tell you--so-o!"

  "Oh, dear me!" breathed Ruth, in surprise. "I--I don't know what youare talking about, Mrs. Kranz. Have--have _we_ got anything to do withyour trouble?"

  "Vell!" exclaimed the large lady. "Hafn't you say you own de house?"

  "So Mr. Howbridge says. We own this house----"

  "Undt _mine_ house," declared Mrs. Kranz. "Undt more houses. Youruncle, Herr Stower, own idt. I pay mine rent to him for ten year yet."

  Ruth began to see--and so did Agnes. Of course, the little girls onlystared and wondered at the woman's coarse voice and strangeappearance.

  "You were one of uncle's tenants?" said Ruth, quickly.

  "For ten year," repeated Mrs. Kranz.

  "And you are having trouble with another tenant?"

  "Mit dot Joe Maroni. He has kinder like steps--von, two, tri, fo',five, six--like _dot_," and the woman indicated by gestures the heightof the children in rotation. "Dey swarm all ofer de blace. I cannotstand dem--undt de dirt--Ach! idt iss terrible."

  "I am sorry, Mrs. Kranz," Ruth said, quietly. "I understand that thisItalian family are likewise tenants of the house?"

  "They lif de cellar in--undt sell vegetables, undt coal, undt wood,undt ice--undt dirt! heafens, vot dirt!" and the plume on Mrs. Kranz'shat trembled throughout its length, while her red face grew redder,and her eyes more sparkling.

  "But perhaps, Mrs. Kranz, the poor things know no better," Ruthsuggested. "It must be dreadful to have to live in a cellar. They havenobody to teach them. Don't the children go to school--when there isschool, I mean?"

  "Undt I--am _I_ no example to dem yet?" demanded the lady. "Ach! deseforeigners! I nefer could get along yet mit foreigners."

  This tickled Agnes so that she laughed, and then coughed to hide it.Mrs. Kranz was attracted to the twelve year old.

  "Dot iss a pretty madchen," she said, smiling broadly upon Agnes. "Sheiss your sister, too? Undt de kinder?" her sharp eyes sighting Tessand Dot.

  "This is Agnes," Ruth said, gladly changing the subject for a moment."And this is Tess, and _this_, Dot--Dorothy, you know. We have had nomother for more than two years."

  "Ach!" said Mrs. Kranz, in a tone denoting sympathy, and she made afunny clucking noise in her throat. "De poor kinder! Undt _you_ haf dehausmutter been--no?"

  "Yes," replied Ruth. "I have _loved_ to take care of the little ones.Agnes is a great help. And now, since we have come here to the oldCorner House, we have Mrs. McCall and Uncle Rufus. Besides, there hasalways been Aunt Sarah."

  Mrs. Kranz's big face looked rather blank, but in a moment her thoughtreturned to the subject of her visit.

  "Vell!" she said. "Undt vot about dot Joe Maroni?"

  "Dear Mrs. Kranz," Ruth said, "I do not know anything about theproperty Uncle Peter left, as yet. I shall speak to Mr. Howbridgeabout it. He is our guardian, you understand, and a lawyer. I am surewe can find some way of relieving you."

  Mrs. Kranz grunted: "Vell!"

  "I shall come to see you," promised Ruth. "And I shall see theseItalians and try to get them to clean up their cellar. I am sorry youshould be so troubled by them."

  Meanwhile she had whispered to Tess and sent her running to Mrs.McCall. Mrs. Kranz gradually lost her offended look. She even took Dotupon her broad lap--though that was a precarious position and Dot wasin danger of sliding off all the time.

  "Mine oldt man undt I nefer have no kinder," said Mrs. Kranz, sighingwindily. "Ve both vor-r-k--Oh! so hard!--ven young we are. Ven wemarry we are alretty oldt yet. Undt now mine oldt man iss dead forsefen year, undt I am all alone."

  Tears came to the good lady's eyes. Ruth, seeing a propitious moment,said a word for Joe Maroni's children.

  "I should think you would like those Italian children, Mrs. Kranz.Aren't they pretty? 'Most always I think they are."

  Mrs. Kranz raised her two hands in a helpless gesture. "Ach! heafens!if dey vos clean yet I could lofe dem!" she declared.

  Just then Uncle Rufus, in his official coat and spats and white vest,arrived with the tray. It was evident that Mrs. Kranz was immenselyimpressed by the presence of the old serving man. She accepted a cupof coffee and a piece of cake, and nibbled the one and sipped theother amidst a running fire of comment upon the late Mr. Stower, andhis death, and the affairs of the tenements and stores Uncle Peter hadowned in her neighborhood.

  Ruth learned much about this property that she had never heard before.Uncle Peter had once collected his own rents--indeed, it was duringonly the last few years of his life that a clerk from Mr. Howbridge'soffice had done the collecting.

  Uncle Peter had been in touch with his tenants. He had been a hard manto get repairs out of, so Mrs. Kranz said, but he had always treatedthe good tenants justly. With a record of ten years of steady rentpaying behind her, Mrs. Kranz considered that she should be recognizedand her complaint attended to. As she could get no satisfaction fromthe lawyer's clerk (for Joe Maroni was a prompt paying tenant, too),she had determined to see the owners.

  These were the facts leading to the good lady's visit. Before she wentaway again Mrs. Kranz was much pacified, and openly an admirer of theCorner House girls.

  "Ach! if I had madchens like you of my own yet!" she said, as shedescended the porch steps, on her departure.

  Agnes gazed after her more seriously than was her wont. She did noteven laugh at Mrs. Kranz, as Ruth expected.

  "And I believe she's an old dear at that," Ruth said, reflectively."Maybe we can get her to help those little Italian children--if we canonce get their parents to clean them up."

  "Well!" breathed Agnes, finally. "I wasn't thinking particularly abouther--or of the Joe Maroni kids. I was just thinking that perhaps it isnot always so nice to be rich, after all. Now! we didn't have to worryabout tenement house property, and the quarrels of the tenants, whenwe lived on Essex Street in Bloomingsburg."