Part 14 (1/2)

”And here's plenty of cookies and a gla.s.s of jam,” Miss Camilla had supplemented, ”and we'll come back to you soon, you blessed baby!” Then they had all hugged and kissed her and departed.

Well, they had not kept their word. She had heard the little clock in the room within, strike and strike and strike, sometimes just one bell-like tone, sometimes two and three and four. She could not yet ”tell the time” but she knew enough about a clock to realize that this indicated the pa.s.sing of the moments. And still there had been no sign of return on the part of the exploring three.

Genevieve whimpered a little and wiped her eyes, sad to say, on her sleeve. Then she thrust her hand, for the fortieth time into the cooky-jar. But it was empty. And then, in sheer boredom and despair, she put her head down on the arm of her chair, tucked her thumb into her mouth and closed her eyes to shut out the tiresome scene before her. In this position she had remained what seemed a long, long time, and the clock had sounded another bell-like stroke, when she was suddenly aroused by a sound quite different.

At first she did not give it much thought, but it came again louder this time, and she sat up with a jerk. Was some one calling her? It was a strange, m.u.f.fled sound, and it seemed as if it were like a voice trying to p.r.o.nounce her name.

”Genev--! Genev--!” That was all she could distinguish. Did they want her, possibly to go down into the horrible cellar and hole? She went to the door giving on the cellar steps and listened. But, though she stood there fully five minutes, she heard not so much as a breath. No, it could not be that. She would go out doors again.

But, no sooner had she stepped onto the porch than she heard it again, fainter this time, but undeniable. Where _could_ it come from? They had commanded her not to venture a step from the porch but surely, if they were calling her she ought to try and find them. So she stepped down from the veranda and ran around to the back of the house. This time she was rewarded. The sound came clearer and more forcefully:

”Genevieve!--Genev--ieve!” But where, still, could it come from? There was not a soul in sight. The garden (for it was Miss Camilla's vegetable garden) was absolutely deserted of human occupation. But Genevieve wisely decided to follow the sound, so she began to pick her way gingerly between the rows of beans, climbing on quite a forest of tall poles. It was when she had pa.s.sed these that she came upon something that caused her a veritable shock.

The ground in Miss Camilla's cuc.u.mber patch, for the s.p.a.ce of ten or twelve feet square, had sunk down into a strange hole, as if in a sudden earthquake. What did it all mean? And, as Genevieve hesitated on its brink, she was startled almost out of her little shoes to hear her name called faintly and in a m.u.f.fled voice from its depths.

”Genev--ieve!” It was the voice of Doris, though she could see not the slightest vestige of her.

”Here I am!” answered Genevieve quaveringly. ”What do you want, Dowis?”

”Oh, thank G.o.d!” came the reply. ”Go get--some one. Quick. We're--buried alive! It--caved in. Hurry--baby!”

”Who s'all I get?” demanded Genevieve. And well she might ask, for as far as any one knew, there was not a soul within a mile of them.

”Oh--I don't--know!” came the answering voice. ”Go find--someone.

Anyone. We'll die--here--if you--don't!” Genevieve was not sure she knew just what that last remark meant, but it evidently indicated something serious.

”All right!” she responded. ”I will twy!” And she trotted off to the front of the house.

Here, however, she stopped to consider. Where _was_ she to go to find any one? She could not go back home,--she did not know the way. She could not go back to the river,--the way was full of pitfalls in the shape of th.o.r.n.y vines that scratched her face and tripped her feet, and besides, Sally had particularly warned her not to venture in that direction--ever. After all, the most likely place to find any one was surely along the road, for she had, very rarely when sitting on Miss Camilla's porch, observed a wagon driven past. She would walk along the road and see if she could find anybody.

Had Genevieve been older and with a little more understanding, she would have comprehended the desperate plight that had befallen her sister and Doris and Miss Camilla. And she would have lent wings to her feet and scurried to the nearest dwelling as fast as those feet would carry her.

But she was scarcely more than a baby. The situation, though peculiar, did not strike her as so much a matter for haste as for patient waiting till the person required should happen along. As she didn't see any one approaching in either direction, she decided to return to the house and keep a strict eye on the road.

And so she returned, seated herself on the porch steps, tucked her thumb in her mouth--and waited. There was no further calling from the curious hole in the back garden and nothing happened for a long, long time.

Genevieve had just about decided to go back and inquire of Doris what else to do, when suddenly the afternoon stillness was broken by the ”chug-chug” of a motor car and the honking of its horn. And before Genevieve could jump to her feet, a big automobile had come plowing down the sandy road and stopped right in front of the gate.

”Here's the place!” called out the chauffeur, and jumping down, walked around to open the door at the side for its occupants to get out. A pleasant-looking man descended and gave his hand to the lady beside him.

And, to Genevieve's great astonishment, the lady proved to be none other than the mother of ”Dowis.”

”Well, where's every one?” inquired the gentleman. ”I don't see a soul but this wee tot sitting on the steps.”

”Why, there's Genevieve!” cried Mrs. Craig, who had seen the baby many times before. ”How are you, dear? Where are the others? Inside?”

”No,” answered Genevieve. ”In de garden. Dowis she said come. Find some one.”

”Oh, they're in the garden, are they? Well, we'll go around there and give them a surprise, Henry. Doris will simply be bowled over to see her 'daddy' here so unexpectedly! And I'm very anxious to meet this Miss Camilla she has talked so much about. Come and show us the way, Genevieve.”

The baby obediently took her hand and led her around to the back of the house, the gentleman following.