Mary-'Gusta Part 9

"Who's sayin'? You said it, I didn't. Besides takin' her home with us today don't mean nothin', does it? A visit won't hurt us. Visits don't bind anybody to anything. Jumpin' Judas! I guess we've got room enough in the house to have one young-one come visitin' for--for a couple of days, if we want to. What are you makin' such a fuss about? Here you," turning to the housekeeper, "ain't you gone yet? You've got just thirteen minutes to get that satchel ready."

Mrs. Hobbs departed, outraged dignity in her walk and manner.

"Am--am I goin'?" faltered Mary-'Gusta.

Zoeth nodded.

"Yes," he said, "you're goin'. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay here."

"No, I'd rather go, if--if I can take David and the dolls. Can I?"

"Can she, Shadrach?"

Captain Shad, who was pacing the floor, turned savagely.

"What do you ask me that for?" he demanded. "This is your doin's, 'tain't mine. You said it first, didn't you? Yes, yes, let her take the dolls and cats--and cows and pigs, too, if she wants to. Jumpin' fire!

What do I care? If a feller's bound to be a fool, a little live stock more or less don't make him any bigger one. . . . Land sakes! I believe she's goin' to cry again. Don't do that! What's the matter now?"

The tears were starting once more in the girl's eyes.

"I--I don't think you want me," she stammered. "If you did you--you wouldn't talk so."

The Captain was greatly taken aback. He hesitated, tugged at his beard, and then, walking over to the child, took her by the hand.

"Don't you mind the way I talk, Mary-'Gusta," he said. "I'm liable to talk 'most any way, but I don't mean nothin' by it. I like little girls, same as Zoeth said. And I ain't mad about the jig-tune chair, neither.

Say," with a sudden inspiration; "here we are settin' here and one of our pa.s.sengers has left the dock. We got to find that cat, ain't we?

What did you say his name was--Solomon?"

"No, sir; David."

"David, sure enough. If I'd been up in Scripture the way Zoeth--Mr.

Hamilton, here--is, I wouldn't have made that mistake, would I? Come on, let's you and me go find David and break the news to him. Say, he'll be some surprised to find he's booked for a foreign v'yage, won't he? Come on, we'll go find him."

Mary-'Gusta slowly rose from Mr. Hamilton's knee. She regarded the Captain steadily for a moment; then, hand in hand, they left the barn together.

Judge Baxter whistled. "Well!" he exclaimed. "I must say I didn't expect this."

Zoeth smiled. "There ain't many better men than Shadrach Gould," he observed, quietly.

CHAPTER IV

Mary-'Gusta, even though she lives to be a very old woman, will never forget that ride to South Harniss. It was the longest ride she had ever taken, and that of itself would have made it unforgettable. Then, too, she was going visiting, and she had never been visiting before. Also, she was leaving Mrs. Hobbs and, for a time at least, that lady could not remind her of her queerness and badness. More than all, she was going on a journey, a real journey, like a grown-up or a person in a story, and her family--David and the dolls--were journeying with her. What the journey might mean to her, or to what sort of place she was going--these questions did not trouble her in the least. Childlike, she was quite satisfied with the wonderful present, and to the future, even the dreaded orphans' home, she gave not a thought.

Perched on the buggy seat, squeezed in between Captain Shad and Mr.

Hamilton, she gazed wide-eyed at the houses and fields and woods along the roadside. She did not speak, unless spoken to, and the two men spoke but seldom, each apparently thinking hard. Occasionally the Captain would sigh, or whistle, or groan, as if his thoughts were disturbing and most unusual. Once he asked her if she was comfortable.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Havin' a good time? Like to go to ride, do you?"

Mary-'Gusta a.s.sumed her most grown-up air.

"Yes, sir," she said. "I just love to travel. It's been the dream of my life."

"Gosh! I want to know!" exclaimed the astonished Shadrach; then he shook his head, chuckled, and ordered the horse to hurry up.

The dolls were arranged in a row against the back of the dashboard. In front of them, and between the Captain's feet and Zoeth's, the battered satchel containing the child's everyday dress and visiting essentials was squeezed. Mary-'Gusta's feet stuck straight out and rested on the top of the satchel. David, in a basket with the lid tied fast, was planted between the last mentioned feet. David did not appear to share his--or her--owner's love of travel. The cat wailed lugubriously at intervals.

Zoeth made the next attempt at conversation.

"Never been to South Harniss, have you, Mary-'Gusta?" he inquired.

"No, sir," gravely. "But," remembering the housekeeper's final charge not to forget her manners, if she had any, "I'm sure I'll like it very much."

"Oh, you are, eh? Well, that's nice. What makes you so sure?"

Mary-'Gusta reflected. She remembered what Mrs. Bailey had said after a week's visit in Bayport, which is fourteen miles from Ostable. "I think everybody enjoys a change of air," she observed.

"My soul and body!" exclaimed Mr. Hamilton.

Captain Shad looked down at his small pa.s.senger.

"How old are you, sis?" he demanded.

"I'm seven. But I ain't a sis; I haven't got any brothers or sisters."

"Oh! Well, that's a fact, too, now I come to think of it. How old did you say; seventy, was it?"

"No, sir. Seven. Did you think I said seventy?"

"Eh? No, I guess not."

"I couldn't be seventy. If I was I'd be lots bigger, you know."

"That's so; I presume likely you would."

More reflection. Then: "If I was seventy I guess you wouldn't have asked me."

"Sho! Wouldn't I? Why not?"

"'Cause grown-up folks don't like to be asked how old they are. I asked Mrs. Hobbs how old she was once and she didn't like it."

"Didn't she?"