Part 28 (1/2)

”And ye sure didn't leave 'em down there?” demanded Sadie Raby of Tom.

”Goodness me! No!” exclaimed Tom. ”They couldn't go in swimming as we did, and so they got mad and wouldn't stay. But they started right up this way, and we thought they were all right.”

”They might have slanted off and gone across the fields to Caslon's,”

said Bobbins, doubtfully.

”That would have taken them into the back pasture where Caslon keeps his Angoras-wouldn't it?” demanded the much-worried young man.

”Well, you can go look for 'em with the goats,” snapped Sadie, starting off. ”But me for that Caslon place. If they didn't go there, then they are in the woods somewhere.”

She started down the hill, fleet-footed as a dog. Before Mr. Steele had stopped sputtering over the catastrophe, and bethought him to start somebody for the Caslon premises to make inquiries, Sadie came in view again, with the old, gray-mustached farmer in tow.

The serious look on Mr. Caslon's face was enough for all those waiting at Sunrise Farm to realize that the absent children were actually lost.

Tom and Bobbins had come up from the goat pasture without having seen, or heard, the six little fellows.

”I forgot to tell ye,” said Caslon, seriously, ”that ye had to keep one eye at least on them 'terrible twins' all the time. We locked 'em into their bedroom at night. No knowin' when or where they're likely to break out. But I reckoned this here sister of theirs would keep 'em close to her--”

”Well!” snapped Sadie Raby, eyeing Tom and Bobbins with much disfavor, ”I thought that a bunch of big fellers like them could look after half a dozen little mites.”

Mr. Steele had come forward slowly; the fact that the six orphan boys really seemed to be lost, was an occasion to break down even _his_ barrier of dislike for the neighbor. Besides, Mr. Caslon ignored any difference there might be between them in a most generous manner.

”I blame myself, Neighbor Steele-I sure do,” Mr. Caslon said, before the owner of Sunrise Farm could speak. ”I'd ought to warned you about them twins. They got bit by the runaway bug bad-that's right.”

”Humph! a family trait-is it?” demanded Mr. Steele, rather grimly eyeing the sister of the runaways.

”I couldn't say about that,” chuckled the farmer. ”But Willie and d.i.c.kie started off twice from our place, trailin' most of the other kids with 'em. But I caught 'em in time. Now, their sister tells me, they've got at least an hour and a half's start.”

”It is getting dark-or it will soon be,” said Mr. Steele, nervously. ”If they are not found before night, I shall be greatly disturbed. I feel as though I were responsible. My oldest boy, here--”

”Now, it ain't n.o.body's fault, like enough,” interrupted Mr. Caslon, cheerfully, and seeing Bobbins's woebegone face. ”We'll start right out and hunt for them.”

”But if it grows dark--”

”Let me have what men you can spare, and all the lanterns around the place,” said Caslon, briskly, taking charge of the matter on the instant. ”These bigger boys can help.”

”I-I can go with you, sir,” began Mr. Steele, but the farmer waved him back.

”No. You ain't used to the woods-nor to trampin'-like I be. And it won't hurt your boys. You leave it to us-we'll find 'em.”

Mrs. Steele had retired to the tent on the lawn in tears, and most of the girls were gathered about her. Sadie Raby clung to Farmer Caslon's side, and n.o.body tried to call her back.

Since returning from Darrowtown that morning, Ruth Fielding had divulged to Mr. Steele all she had discovered through Miss True Pettis regarding the Raby family, and about the Canadian lawyer who had once searched for Mrs. Raby and her children.

The gentleman had expressed deep interest in the matter, and while the fresh air children were being entertained during the afternoon, Mr.

Steele had already set in motion an effort to learn the whereabouts of Mr. Angus MacDorough and to discover just what the property was that had been willed to the mother of the Raby orphans.

Sadie had been told nothing about this wonderful discovery as yet.