Part 25 (1/2)

”Same here,” grunted Tom. ”Just the same, he's a nice man, and I like him.”

”Yes-so do I,” admitted Ruth. ”But I'd like him so much more, if he wouldn't try to get the best of an old man like Mr. Caslon.”

The Raby matter, however, was a more pleasant topic of conversation for the two friends. The big bay horse got over the ground rapidly-Tom said the creature did not know a hill when he saw one!-and it still lacked half an hour of noon when they came in sight of Caslon's house.

The orphans were all in force in the front yard. Mr. Caslon appeared, too.

That yard was untidy for the first time since Ruth had seen it. And most of the untidiness was caused by telltale bits of red, yellow, and green paper. Even before the cart came to the gate, Ruth smelled the tang of powder smoke.

”Oh, Tom! they _have_ got firecrackers,” she exclaimed.

”So have I-a whole box full-under the front seat,” chuckled Tom. ”What's the Fourth without a weeny bit of noise? Bobbins and I are going to let them off in a big hogshead he's found behind the stable.”

”You boys are rascals!” breathed Ruth. ”Why! there are the twins!”

Sadie's young brothers ran out to the cart. Mr. Caslon appeared with a good-sized box in his arms, too.

”Just take this-and the youngsters-aboard, will you, young fellow?” said the farmer. ”Might as well have all the rockets and such up there on the hill. They'll show off better. And the twins was down for the clean clo'es mother promised them.”

It was a two-seated cart and there was plenty of room for the two boys on the back seat. Mr. Caslon carefully placed the open box in the bottom of the cart, between the seats. The fireworks he had purchased had been taken out of their wrappings and were placed loosely in the box.

”There ye are,” said the farmer, jovially. ”Hop up here, youngsters!”

He seized Willie and hoisted him into the seat. But d.i.c.kie had run around to the other side of the cart and clambered up like a monkey, to join his brother.

”All right, sir,” said Tom, wheeling the eager bay horse. It was nearing time for the latter's oats, and he smelled them! ”Out of the way, kids.

They'll send a wagon down for you, all right, after luncheon, I reckon.”

Just then Ruth happened to notice something smoking in d.i.c.kie's hand.

”What have you there, child?” she demanded. ”Not a nasty cigarette?”

He held out, solemnly, and as usual wordlessly, a smoking bit of punk.

”Where did you get that? Oh! drop it!” cried Ruth, fearing for the fireworks and the explosives under the front seat. She meant for d.i.c.kie to throw it out of the wagon, but the youngster took the command literally.

He dropped it. He dropped it right into the box of fireworks. Then things began to happen!

CHAPTER XXI-A VERY BUSY TIME

”Oh, Tom!” shrieked Ruth, and seized the boy's arm. The bay horse was just plunging ahead, eager to be off for the stable and his manger. The high cart was whirled through the gateway as the first explosion came!

Pop,pop,pop! sputter-BANG!

It seemed as though the horse leaped more than his own length, and yanked all four wheels of the cart off the ground. There was a chorus of screams in the Caslons' dooryard, but after that first cry, Ruth kept silent.

The rockets shot out of the box amids.h.i.+ps with a shower of sparks. The Roman candles sprayed their varied colored b.a.l.l.s-dimmed now by daylight-all about the cart.