Ruth Fielding at Sunrise Farm/Chapter 22

The girls who had come to Sunrise Farm to visit at Madge Steele's invitation, felt no little responsibility when it came to the entertainment for the fresh air orphans. As The Fox said, with her usual decision:

"Now that we've put Madge and her folks into this business, we'll just have to back up their play, and make sure that the fresh airs don't tear the place down. And that Sadie will have to keep an eye on the 'terrible twins.' Is that right?"

"I've spoken to poor Sadie," said Ruth, with a sigh. "I am afraid that Mrs. Steele is very much worried over what may occur to-night, while the children are here. We'll have to be on the watch all the time."

"I should say!" exclaimed Heavy Stone. "Let's suggest to Mr. Steele that he rope off a place out front where he is going to have the fireworks. Some of those little rascals will want to help celebrate, the way Willie and Dickie did," and the plump girl giggled ecstatically.

​"'Twas no laughing matter, Jennie," complained Ruth, shaking her head.

"Well, that's all right," Lluella broke in. "If Tom hadn't bought the fire-crackers—and that was right against Mr. Steele's advice——"

"Oh, here now!" interrupted Helen, loyal to her twin. "Tom wasn't any more to blame than Bobbins. They were just bought for a joke."

"It was a joke all right," Belle said, laughing. "Who's going to pay for the damage to the cart?"

"Now, let's not get to bickering," urged Ruth. "What's done, is done. We must plan now to make the celebration this afternoon and evening as easy for Mrs. Steele as possible."

This conversation went on after luncheon, while Bob and Tom had driven down the hill with a big wagon to bring up the ten remaining orphans from Mr. Caslon's place.

The gaily decorated wagon came in sight just about this time. Fortunately the decorations Tom and Ruth had purchased that forenoon in Darrowtown had not been destroyed when the fireworks went off in the cart.

The girls from Briarwood Hall welcomed the fresh airs cheerfully and took entire charge of the six little girls. The little boys did not wish to play "girls' games" on the lawn, and therefore ​Bob and his chums agreed to keep an eye on the youngsters, including the "terrible twins."

Sadie had been drafted to assist Madge and her mother, and some of the maids, in preparing for the evening collation. Therefore the visitors were divided for the time into two bands.

The girls from the orphanage were quiet enough and well behaved when separated from their boy friends. Indeed, on the lawn and under the big tent Mr. Steele had had erected, the celebration of a "safe and sane" Fourth went on in a most commendable way.

It was a very hot afternoon, and after indulging in a ball game in the field behind the stables, Bobbins, in a thoughtless moment, suggested a swim. Half a mile away there was a pond in a hollow. The boys had been there almost every day for a dip, and Bob's suggestion was hailed—even by the usually thoughtful Tom Cameron—with satisfaction.

"What about the kids?" demanded Ralph Tingley.

"Let them come along," said Bobbins.

"Sure," urged Busy Izzy. "What harm can come to them? We'll keep our eyes on them."

The twins and their small chums from the orphanage were eager to go to the pond, too, and so expressed themselves. The half-mile walk through the hot sun did not make them quail. ​They were proud to be allowed to accompany the bigger boys to the swimming hole.

The little fellows raced along in their bare feet behind the bigger boys and were pleased enough, until they reached the pond and learned that they would only be allowed to go in wading, while the others slipped into their bathing trunks and "went in all over."

"No! you can't go in," declared Bobbins, who put his foot down with decision, having his own small brothers in mind. (They had been left behind, by the way, to be dressed for the evening.)

"Say! the water won't wet us no more'n it does you will it, Dickie?" demanded the talkative twin.

"Nope," agreed his brother.

"Now, you kids keep your clothes on," said Bob, threateningly. "And don't wade more than to your knees. If you get your overalls wet, you'll hear about it. You know Mrs. Caslon fixed you all up for the afternoon and told you to keep clean."

The smaller chaps were unhappy. That was plain. They paddled their dusty feet in the water for a while, but the sight of the older lads diving and swimming and having such a good time in the pond was a continual temptation. The active minds of the terrible twins were soon at work. ​Willie began to whisper to Dickie, and the latter nodded his head solemnly.

"Say!" blurted out Willie, finally, as Bob and Tom were racing past them in a boisterous game of "tag." "We wanter go back. This ain't no fun is it, Dickie?"

"Nope," said his twin.

"Go on back, if you want to. You know the path," said Bobbins, breathlessly.

"We're goin', too," said one of the other fresh airs.

"We'd rather play with the girls than stay here. Hadn't we, Dickie?" proposed Willie Raby.

"Yep," agreed Master Dickie, with due solemnity.

"Go on!" cried Bob. "And see you go straight back to the house. My!" he added to Tom, "but those kids are a nuisance."

"Think we taught to let them go alone?" queried Tom, with some faint doubt on the subject. "You reckon they'll be all right, Bobbins?"

"Great Scott! they sure know the way to the house," said Bob. "It's a straight path."

But, as it happened, the twins had no idea of going straight to the house. The pond was fed by a stream that ran in from the east. The little fellows had seen this, and Willie's idea was to circle around through the woods and find that ​stream. There they could go in bathing like the bigger boys, "and nobody would ever know."

"Our heads will be wet," objected one of the orphans.

"Gee!" said Willie Raby, "don't let's wet our heads. We ain't got to have we?"

"Nope," said his brother, promptly.

There was some doubt, still, in the minds of the other boys.

"What you goin' to say to those folks up to the big house?" demanded one of the fresh airs.

"Ain't goin' to say nothin'," declared the bold Willie. "Cause why? they ain't goin' to know—'nless you fellers snitch."

"Aw, who's goin' to snitch?" cried the objector, angered at once by the accusation of the worst crime in all the category of boyhood. "We ain't no tattle-tales—are we, Jim?"

"Naw. We're as safe to hold our tongues as you an' yer brother are, Willie Raby—so now!"

"Sure we are!" agreed the other orphans.

"Then come along," urged the talkative twin. "Nobody's got to know."

"Suppose yer sister finds it out?" sneered one.

"Aw—well—she jes' ain't go'n' ter," cried Willie, exasperated. "An' what if she does? She runned away herself—didn't she?"

The spirit of restlessness was strong in the Raby nature, it was evident. Willie was a born ​leader. The others trailed after him when he left the pathway that led directly back to Sunrise Farm, and pushed into the thicker wood in the direction he believed the stream lay.

The juvenile leader of the party did not know (how should he?) that just above the pond the stream which fed it made a sharp turn. Its waters came out of a deep gorge, lying in an entirely different direction from that toward which the "terrible twins" and their chums were aiming.

The little fellows plodded on for a long time, and the sun dropped suddenly behind the hills to the westward, and there they were—quite surprisingly to themselves—in a strange and fast-darkening forest.