Five Little Peppers Grown Up

  CHAPTER XIII.

  THE ACCIDENT.

  A roaring sound close to her ear made Polly start, and open her eyes.Johnny's fat arms were clutched around her neck so tightly she couldscarcely breathe, while he was screaming as hard as he could.

  --"is the matter?" cried Polly, finishing her sentence.

  A pair of strong arms were lifting her up, and pulling her from beneathsomething, she could not tell what, that was lying heavily over her,while Johnny rolled off like a ball.

  "O, Ben!" cried Polly gratefully, as the arms carried her off. And thenshe saw the face above her: "Why, Pickering!"

  "Are you hurt anywhere?" gasped Pickering, speaking the words withdifficulty.

  "What is it?" cried Polly, in a dazed way.

  "There's been an accident," said Pickering. "Oh, Polly, say you're nothurt!" as he set her carefully down.

  "An accident!" exclaimed Polly, and she sprang to her feet and glancedwildly around. "Pickering--where--where"--she couldn't ask "are Phronsieand Ben and Grandpapa?"

  But Pickering cried at once, "All right--every single one. Here comesPhronsie, and Ben too."

  And Phronsie running up, with streaming hair and white cheeks, threwglad arms around her neck. "Oh, Polly, are you hurt?" And Ben seizedher, but at that she winced; and her left arm fell heavily to her side.

  "Where's Baby?" cried Polly, trying to cover up the expression of pain;"do somebody look after him."

  "Charlotte has him," said Phronsie, looking off to a grassy bank by therailroad track, where Charlotte Chatterton sat with Johnny in her lap.

  Polly followed the glance, then off to the broken car, one end of whichlay in ruins across the rails, and to the crowds of people running tothe scene, in the midst of which was the fearful hush that proclaimeddeath.

  "Oh! do come and help," called Polly, and before they knew it, she wasdashing off, and running over the grass, up to the track. "There was awoman--Johnny's mother," she cried, pushing her way into the crowd,Phronsie and Ben and Pickering close behind--"in the seat opposite me."

  Two or three men were picking up a still figure they had just pried outfrom the ruins of the car-end, dropped helplessly on its side, just asit fell when the fatal blow came. "Let me see her," said Polly hoarsely.They turned the face obediently; there was a long, terrible gash on theforehead that showed death to have come instantly to Johnny's mother,and that "good times" had already begun for her, and her weary feet weresafely at rest in the Heavenly Home.

  Polly drew a long breath, and bending suddenly dropped a kiss on thepeaceful cheek; then she drew out her handkerchief, and softly laid itover the dead face. "Take her to that farmhouse." She pointed to a largewhite house off in the fields. "I will go there--but I must help herefirst."

  "OH, POLLY, ARE YOU HURT?"]

  "Yes, Miss," said the men obediently, moving off with their burden.

  "Polly--Polly, come away," begged Pickering and Ben.

  "Grandpapa is sitting on the bank over there," pointed Phronsie, with abeseeching finger. "Oh, do go to him, Polly; I'll stay and help the poorpeople."

  "And no one was hurt," said Ben quickly, "only in this end of the car.See, Polly, everybody is out," pointing past the crowd into the car, tothe vacant seats.

  "There was an old gentleman in the seat back of me," cried Polly, indistress. "Hasn't any one seen him?" running up and down the track; "anold gentleman with a black velvet cap"--amid shouts of "Keep out--thecar is taking fire. Don't go near it."

  A little tongue of flame shooting from one of the windows at the furtherend of the car proclaimed this fact, without the words.

  "Has no one seen him?" called Polly, in a voice so clear and piercingthat it rose above the babel of the crowd, and the groans of one or twoinjured people drawn out from the ruin, and lying on the bank, waitingthe surgeon's arrival. "Then he must be in the car. Oh, Ben--come, wemust get him out!" and she sprang back toward the broken car end.

  "Keep back, Polly!" commanded Ben, and "I shall go," cried PickeringDodge. But Polly ran too, and clambered with them, over the crushed carseats and window frames of the ruin.

  "He's not here," cried Ben, while the hot flame seemed to be sweepingwith cruel haste, down to catch them.

  "Look--oh, he must be!" cried Polly wildly, peering into the ruin. "Oh,Ben, I see a hand!"

  But a rough grasp on her shoulder seized her as the words left hermouth. "Come out of here, Miss, or you'll be killed," and Polly wasbeing borne off by rescuers who had seen her rush with the two youngmen, in amongst the ruin. "I tell you," cried Polly, struggling to getfree, "there is an old gentleman buried in there; I saw his hand."

  "Everybody is out, Miss," and they carried her off. But Ben andPickering were already in a race with the flames, for the possession ofthe old gentleman, whose body, after the car seat was removed, couldplainly be seen.

  "There's the axe," cried Ben hoarsely, pointing to it, where it hadfallen near to Pickering.

  Pickering measured the approach of the flames with a careful eye. "He isprobably dead," he said to Ben. "Shall we?"

  "Hand the axe," cried Ben. Already the car was at a stifling heat, andthe roar of the flames grew perilously near. Would no one come to helpthem? Must they die like animals in a trap? Well, the work was to bedone. Two--three ringing blows breaking away a heavy beam, quick, agilepulling up of the broken window frame, and in the very teeth of theflames, young arms bore out the old body.

  A great shout burst from the crowd as they staggered forth with theirburden. Pickering had only strength to look around for Polly, before hedropped on the grass.

  And when he looked up, the tears were raining on his face.

  "O, Pickering!" cried Polly. "Now there isn't anything more to long for.You are all right?"

  Pickering lifted his head feebly, and glanced around. The walls of the"spare room" at the farm-house, gay in large flowered paper, met hiseyes. "Why, where am I?" he began.

  "At good Farmer Higby's," said Polly. And then he saw that her arm wasin a sling. "That's nothing," she finished, meeting his look, "it's allfixed as good as can be, and has nothing to do but get well--has it,Ben?"

  Ben popped up his head from the depths of the easy chair, where he hadcrouched, afraid lest Pickering should revive and see him too suddenly.

  "How are you, old fellow?" he now cried, advancing toward the bed."There, don't try to speak," hurriedly, "everything is all right. Waittill you are better."

  "How long have I been here?" asked Pickering, looking at Polly's arm.

  "Only a day," said Polly, "and now you must have something to eat,"starting toward the door.

  "I couldn't eat a mouthful," said Pickering, shutting his mouth andturning on the pillow.

  "Indeed you will," declared Polly, hurrying on. "The doctor said as soonas you could talk, you must have something to eat; and I shall tell Mrs.Higby to bring it up." So she disappeared.

  "Goodness me! have I had the doctor?" asked Pickering, turning back tolook after her.

  "Yes," said Ben. Then he tried to turn the conversation. But Pickeringbroke in. "Did Polly break her arm at--at the first?" he asked, holdinghis breath for the answer.

  "Yes," said Ben, "don't talk about it," with a gasp--"Polly says thatshe is so glad it isn't her right arm," he added, with an attempt atcheerfulness. "And the doctor promises it will be all right soon. It'slucky there is a good one here."

  Pickering groaned. "It's a pity I wasn't in the old fellow's place,Ben," he said, "for I've got to tell Polly how I wanted to leave him,and I'd rather die than see her face."

  "See here," cried Ben, "if you say one word to Polly about it, I'llpitch you out of the window, sick as you are."

  "Pitch ahead, then," said Pickering, "for I shall tell Polly."

  "Not to-day, any way. Now promise," said Ben resolutely.

  "Well--but I shall tell her sometime," said Pickering. "I'd rather sheknew it--but I wish we could have saved him."

  "He's in the other room," said Ben suddenly. r />
  "Poor old thing--to die like that."

  "Die? He's as well as a fish," said Ben; "sitting up in an easy chair,and to my certain knowledge, eating dried herrings and cheese at thisvery minute."

  "He's eating dried herrings and cheese!" repeated Pickering, nearlyskipping out of bed. "Why, wasn't he dead when we brought him out?"

  "No, only stunned. There, do get back," said Ben, pushing Pickering wellunder the blankets again, "the doctor says on no account are you to getup until he came. Do keep still; he'll be here presently," with a glanceat Mrs. Higby's chimney clock.

  "The doctor--who cares for him!" cried Pickering, nevertheless hescrambled back again, and allowed Ben to tuck him in tightly. Andpresently in came Polly, and after her, a bright apple-cheeked womanbearing a tray, on which steamed a bowl of gruel.

  OLD MR. KING DREW UP HIS CHAIR TO OVERSEE IT ALL.]

  And in less time than it takes to tell it, Pickering was bolstered upagainst his pillows, and obediently opening his mouth at the right timesto admit of the spoonfuls Polly held out to him. And Phronsie came inand perched on the foot of the four-poster, gravely watching it all. Andold Mr. King followed, drawing up the easy chair to the bedside, wherehe could oversee the whole thing. And before it was over, the dooropened, and a young man, with a professional air, looked in and said ingreat satisfaction, "That's good," coming up to the bed and putting outhis hand to Pickering.

  "Here's the doctor," cried old Mr. King, with a flourish of his palm."Well, Doctor Bryce, your patient is doing pretty well, I think."

  "I should say so," answered the doctor, with a keen glance at Pickering."O, he's all right. How is the arm?" to Polly.

  "That is all right too," said Polly cheerfully, and trying to talk ofsomething else.

  "Let me feed Pickering, do," begged Phronsie, slipping from the bed,"while Doctor looks at your arm, Polly."

  "I can wait," said the doctor, moving down to the foot of thefour-poster, where he stood looking at the feeding process, "and I cango in and see Mr. Loughead meanwhile."

  Pickering dodged the spoon, nearly in his mouth. "Who?" he cried.

  "Dear me," cried Polly, trying to save the gruel drops from falling onMrs. Higby's crazy quilt, "how you frightened me, Pickering."

  "Who did he say?" demanded Pickering, as Dr. Bryce went out.

  "Pickering," said Polly, with shining eyes, "who do you think you andBen saved so bravely? Jack Loughead's uncle, who has just got here fromAustralia, and he's"--

  Pickering gave a groan and turned on his pillow. "Don't give me anymore, Polly," he said, putting up his hand.

  Polly set the spoon in the gruel bowl, with a disappointed air.

  "Never mind," said the young doctor, coming back again, "he's eatenenough. Now may I see your arm?" He turned to Polly gently. "We must goin the other room for that," with a nod at Pickering.

  A thrill went over Phronsie, which she tried her best to conceal, andshe turned quite pale. Polly smiled at her as she went over toward thedoor, followed by the doctor, old Mr. King and Ben. Pickering Dodgeclenched his hand under the bedclothes, and looked after them, thensteadfastly gazed at the large flowers blooming with reckless abandon upand down over the dark-green wall-paper.

  "Phronsie," said Polly, hearing her footsteps joining the others out inthe hall, "will you go in and see how Charlotte is getting on withJohnny? Do, dear," she whispered in Phronsie's ear, as she gained herside.

  "I'd rather stay with you, Polly," said Phronsie wistfully, "and holdyour other hand."

  "But I do so want you to help Charlotte," said Polly beseechingly. "Willyou, Phronsie?" and she set a kiss on Phronsie's pale cheek.

  "I will, Polly," said Phronsie, with a sigh. But she looked back as shewent slowly along to the opposite end of the hall. "Please don't hurtPolly," she said imploringly to the doctor.

  "I won't, little girl," he replied, "any more than I can help."

  "Good-by," called Polly cheerfully, and she threw her a kiss with herright hand.

  * * * * *

  Mrs. Farmer Higby stood on her flat door-stone, shading her eyes withher hand.

  "Seems's if I sha'n't ever get over the shock," she said to herself,looking off to the railroad track, shining in the morning sunlight. "Tolook up from my sewing and see--la! and 'twas the first time I ever satdown to that rag-rug since I had to drop it and run over and take careof Simon, when they brought me word he was 'most cut to pieces in themowing machine. My senses! I'm afraid to finish the thing."

  The frightened look in her eyes began to deepen, and she shook as if thechill of a winter day were upon her, instead of the soft air of a mildmorning in spring.

  "I want to get out in the woods and holler," she declared; "seems's ifthen I'd feel better. To look up, expecting to see the cars coming alongreal lively and pleasant, just as they always do so sociable-like whenI'm sewing, and then--oh, dear me!" she wrung her fat hands together,"there, all of a sudden, were two of 'em bumping together, one endsmashed into kindling wood, and t'other end sticking up straight in theair. Oh! my senses, I don't wonder I thought I was going crazy, and thatI let the rug fly and jumped into the middle of the floor, till I heardthe screaming, and I run to help, and there was that poor soul they werebringing here, and she dead as a stone. Oh, dear, dear!"

  Mrs. Higby turned away so that she could not see the shining railroadtrack, and looked off over the meadow, while a happier expression cameover her features. "I'm awful tickled this house is big," she said, witha good degree of comfort, "so's Jotham and me could take 'em in. Now I'mglad we didn't sell last spring, when Mary Ann was married, and movedown to the village. Seems's if Providence was in it. Gracious, see thatman running here! I hope there ain't anything else happened!" and withher old flutter upon her, Mrs. Higby turned to meet a young manadvancing to the door-stone, with more speed than was ordinarilyexhibited by the natives of Brierly.

  "Is this Mr. Jotham Higby's house?" asked the stranger. And although hewas very pale and evidently troubled, he touched his hat, and waited forher answer.

  "Yes," said Mrs. Higby; "what do you want? Do excuse me," all in thesame breath, "but I'm all upset; there was an awful railroad accidentalong here yesterday. You haven't come to tell of anything else bad,have you?" And she was sharper than ever.

  "No," said the young man, "my friends are here; you took them in sokindly. Do show me the way to them." He was quite imperative now, movingover the flat stone, and into the square entry like one accustomed tobeing obeyed. "Which way?" he asked, glancing up the stairs.

  "Oh, my!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, "excuse me, sir; the roomsupstairs"--nodding like a mandarin in the direction named, "any of'em--all of 'em; they've got 'em all; you can't make a miss."

  The young man was already opening the door of the room where Dr. Brycewas examining Polly's arm, old Mr. King and Ben looking on anxiously.

  Polly saw him first. "Oh, Jasper!" she cried, with a sudden start.

  "Take care!" exclaimed Dr. Bryce, looking off from the bandages he wasnicely adjusting, to bestow a keen glance on Jasper.

  Jasper gave one hand to his father in passing, but went straight toPolly's side, and laid his other hand on her shoulder.

  "It's all right, Jasper," said Polly, seeing he couldn't speak. "Doctorsays my arm is doing beautifully."

  "Well, well," said old Mr. King, trying to speak cheerfully, but onlysucceeding in a nervous effort, "this isn't just the most successful wayto give you a surprise party, Jasper, but it's the best we could do. Andwe had to send you a telegram, for fear you'd see it in the papers. Soyou thought you'd come on and see for yourself, eh?" as Jasper showed noinclination to talk.

  "Yes," said Jasper, still confining himself to monosyllables.

  "And that's the sensible thing to do," said Ben, with a grateful look atJasper, "than to wait till we are able to move on--Pickering and all."

  "Is Pickering Dodge with you?" exclaimed Jasper, quickly.

  Polly turned in her chair, an
d looked into his eyes. "Yes; Pickeringcame with us expressly to see you, Jasper." Then without waiting for ananswer, "He is in the next room; do go and see him."

  "Very well," said Jasper, "I'll be back in a moment or two, father,"going out.

  Pickering Dodge still lay, gazing at the sprawling flowers on the wall,and doing his best not to count them. The door opened suddenly. "Well,well, old fellow." Jasper came up to the bedside with the air of one whohad been in the habit of running in every little while. "It's good tosee you again, Pick," he added, affectionately, laying his hand, thatgood right hand, on the nervous one playing with the coverlids.

  "Of course you couldn't do what I asked, Jasper; no one could," saidPickering, rolling over to look at him. "And I was a fool to ask it."

  "But I might have been kinder," said Jasper, compressing his lips;"forget that, Pick."

  "Don't say any more," said Pickering, his face flushing, "and I knowit's all up with me, any way, Jasper." And he turned pale again. "Wepulled an old fellow out of the wreck, at least Ben did the most ofit--Polly wanted us to; and who do you suppose he is? Why, JackLoughead's uncle. Of course _he_'ll be here soon, and it's easy tosee the end."

  At that, Pickering bolted up in bed to a sitting position, and clutchedat the collar of his morning jacket with savage fingers.

  "Don't, Pick," begged Jasper, in an unsteady voice.

  "I'm going to get up," declared Pickering deliberately. "Clear out,Jasper," with a forbidding gesture, "or I'll pitch into you."

  "You'll lie down," said Jasper decidedly; "there, get in again," with agentle push on Pickering's long legs. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself,though, to act like this!" trying to speak playfully.

  Pickering scrambled back into bed, fuming every instant. "To lie like alog here, while that fellow dashes around carrying everything beforehim--it's--it's--abominable and atrocious! Let me out, I say!" And hedashed toward the edge of the bed, nearly knocking Jasper over.

  "Hold on, there," cried Jasper, pinning down the clothes with a firmhand, "don't you see"--while Pickering struggled to toss them back "Takecare, you'll tear this quilt!--that I'll help you on to your feet all ingood time? And if you behave yourself, you'll be around, and a match forany Jack Loughead under the heavens. There, now, will you be still?"

  "Send that dunce of a doctor to me as soon as you can," said Pickering,rolling back suddenly once more, into the hollow made in the center ofthe four-poster. "Dear me, he's sweet on Polly too!" he groaned underthe clothes.

  "Whew!" exclaimed Jasper, pulling out his handkerchief to wipe hisforehead. "I won't agree to hold you in bed again, Pick. I'll send thedoctor," he added, going out, "but you see that you don't lose your headwhile I'm gone."

  "I'll promise nothing," said Pickering softly to himself, the moment thedoor closed, and slipping neatly out of bed, he tiptoed over and turnedthe key in the lock. "There," snapping his fingers in the air, "as ifI'd have that idiot of a doctor around me." Then he proceeded to dresshimself very rapidly, but with painstaking care.

  "I'm all right," and he gave himself a final shake; "that doctor wouldhave made a fool of me and kept me in bed, like enough, for a week. Andwith that Jack Loughead here!" He gave a swift glance into the crackedlooking-glass hanging over the high shelf, and with another pull at hisnecktie-end, unlocked the door and went out.

  "Halloo!"

  "Oh, beg pardon!" A long figure that had just scaled the stairs, camesuddenly up against Pickering, stalking along the narrow hall.

  "How d'ye do?" said Pickering quite jauntily, and extending the tips ofhis fingers; "just got here, I take it, Loughead?"

  "Yes," returned Jack Loughead. Pickering was made no more steady in hismind, nor on his feet, by seeing the other's evident uneasiness, but hecovered it up by a careless "Well, I suppose you have come to look upyour uncle, hey?"

  "Yes, oh, yes," said Jack, "of course, my uncle. Well, were any of theothers hurt?"

  "Yes; one woman was killed." Pickering could not trust himself tomention Polly's broken arm yet.

  Jack Loughead's face carried the proper amount of sympathy. "No one ofyour party was hurt, I believe?" he said quickly.

  "Oh, look us over, and see for yourself," said Pickering, beginning tofeel faintish, and as if he would like to sit down. And then the door atthe end of the hall was opened, and out came all the others and thedoctor, who was saying, "I'll just step in and look at the young man,though he's doing well enough--oh, my gracious!"

  "Thank you, I am doing well enough," said Pickering, with his bestsociety manner on, and extending his hand, "much obliged, I'm sure; whatI should have done without you, I don't know, of course; send in yourbill, and I shall be only too happy to make it all right."

  Jack Loughead rushed up to Polly. "No one told me--is your arm--" hecouldn't say "broken," being quite beyond control of himself.

  "How are you, Mr. Loughead?" said old Mr. King rather stiffly, at beingoverlooked, and putting out his courtly old hand.

  "Oh, beg pardon." Jack mumbled something about being an awkward fellowat the best, and extended a shaking hand.

  "You are anxious to see your uncle, of course," continued the oldgentleman, leading off down the hall, "this way, Mr. Loughead."

  "Of course, yes, indeed," stammered Jack Loughead, having nothing to dobut to follow.