Poor Elizabeth Ann, her hand stinging, her eyes filled with tears, stepped out of the room where the rows of glass jars were stored. As she walked past the woman who held the ruler, that sharp-voiced person gasped.

“For mercy’s sake, who are you? I thought you were Esther,” she said.

“I’m Elizabeth Ann Loring,” said Elizabeth Ann. “I came down here to look for Tony, my cat.”

“Good gracious!” the woman cried—Elizabeth Ann could see her better now, in the light that came from one of the cellar windows. “I never saw you before in my life!”

Elizabeth Ann rubbed her smarting hand and winked back the tears.

“I was just looking at your pantry,” she said with dignity. “My aunt has a pantry like that. She puts up jelly every year.”

“I’m sorry,” said the woman, who was tall and thin and wore her hair twisted back from her eyes in a small, hard knot. “I’m sorry I struck you with the ruler. I thought you were my niece, Esther, who is always stealing jam. I told her the next time I found her in the cellar I’d give her something to remember.”

“I’ll remember it!” Elizabeth Ann declared. “It hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” said the woman again. “And the worst of it is, it won’t do Esther any good; she’ll be down here the minute my back is turned.”

“I think,” Elizabeth Ann announced in a rather small voice, “I think I’d better go back. Uncle Hiram will be wondering where I am.”

At this late date Elizabeth Ann had suddenly remembered that Uncle Hiram had directed her and Doris to stay in the alcove room till he came back. Perhaps he might not be pleased to find she was wandering around in the cellar.

“If you have any folks,” said the woman, switching the ruler against her skirts and peering around the cellar as though she still hoped to find the jam-stealing Esther, “I should think they’d be looking for you. Where did you come from?”

Elizabeth Ann explained about Doris and Uncle Hiram and the woman showed her where the stairs were for Elizabeth Ann was so turned about that she couldn’t find her way.

“I work in the kitchen,” said the woman. “I’ll go up the other stairs. I hope you understand it was all a mistake, my slapping you with the ruler.”

Elizabeth Ann said of course she knew it was a mistake; so she went up the stairs and found herself in the alcove room. No one was there except Doris and she was frowning. Oh yes, the wicker basket was on the seat beside her and it was closed and fastened. That meant, very likely, that Tony was inside.

“Where have you been?” demanded Doris.

“Did Uncle Hiram find Tony?” Elizabeth Ann asked, instead of answering the question.

“Of course he did—and he’s in his basket,” said Doris, mixing her pronouns in a way that would have scandalized Aunt Ida. “He doesn’t like it a bit, either, because you weren’t here. He’s gone to ask the man who owns the restaurant if he can go down in the cellar and hunt for you.”

And just then Uncle Hiram parted the curtains and looked in at the two girls. He saw Elizabeth Ann and he said to her, exactly as Doris had, “Where have you been?” Only he added, “I thought I asked you to wait till I came back.”

“I went to look for Tony,” said Elizabeth Ann. “I thought he might have gone down cellar to hunt for mice. And a lady thought I was Esther stealing jam and she told me to put out my hand and she hit me three times with her ruler.”

Elizabeth Ann held out her hand. Across the pink palm were angry-looking, red marks.

“Orders are orders on board ship,” said Uncle Hiram. “However, you seem to have battled a gale and we’ll let it go this once. I found your cat snooping around the main dining room—guess he wanted more to eat.”

On the way out to the car—Uncle Hiram said they must hurry for they still had many miles to cover—Elizabeth Ann looked around her carefully. She thought she might see Esther, and she was rather interested in Esther. But she didn’t see any other little girl.

“Do you think,” whispered Doris, after they were in their places on the back seat, and Uncle Hiram was so busy watching the road that he couldn’t listen to them chattering, “do you think that Uncle Hiram is cross?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” Elizabeth Ann said. “Of course I ought not to have gone down in the cellar. Perhaps he isn’t cross when you do as he asks you to.”

Doris agreed that under those circumstances Uncle Hiram might not be cross. Then she put her head down on Elizabeth Ann’s shoulder and went to sleep. And Elizabeth Ann found that her own eyes insisted on closing, and she went to sleep too.

She woke up a little later to find that the car had stopped. Uncle Hiram was talking to a man who sat in another car, headed in the opposite direction. “You sure you haven’t seen him?” the man was saying as Elizabeth Ann opened her eyes.

“I told you I hadn’t,” answered Uncle Hiram, and his voice was a deep growl. “I might have picked him up and given him a lift, if he asked me, but I wouldn’t lie about it. I haven’t seen any boy on the road since I started this trip.”

“The varmint is probably hiding around somewhere,” the man said crossly.

Elizabeth Ann leaned as far forward as she could, without waking the still sleeping Doris.

The man who sat in the other car did not have a pleasant face. He was thin, and his nose was red, while his eyes were small and looked angry. He had thrust his head out of the side of his car and was positively glaring at Uncle Hiram.

“Well, if you do see him, mind you pick him up and telephone me,” said the man, speaking more crossly still. “I’ll pay for the telephone call. He’s a bound boy, remember, and I have the right to him.”

Uncle Hiram merely nodded and started his car. Elizabeth Ann waited till he had passed the other car and then she touched him on the shoulder.

“Uncle Hiram,” she said in a low voice, as though she was afraid the other man might overhear, “Uncle Hiram, what is a varmint?”

“Eh, you’re awake then,” Uncle Hiram commented. “I thought you were having a fine nap. A varmint, my dear, is a low kind of animal—like a skunk or a weasel. Weasels, you know, steal chickens.”

“Why did the man want one then?” asked Elizabeth Ann.

“One what?” Uncle Hiram said, surprised.

“A varmint,” explained Elizabeth Ann. “He was looking for a varmint. I woke up when he was saying so.”

“I don’t wonder you woke up,” Uncle Hiram declared. “He had a voice like a buzz saw, and anyone who heard it would either wake up or have bad dreams. That man wasn’t looking for a varmint, my dear; that was just his way of describing a poor taken boy.”

Elizabeth Ann stood up. She always said she could think better standing up. “Please, what is a taken boy?” she asked.

Uncle Hiram glanced over his shoulder.

“My, my, what a lot of things you want to know,” said he. “Well, Elizabeth Ann, a taken boy is usually an orphan. Someone takes him from the poorhouse and agrees to be responsible for his food and shelter and clothes. And in return the boy does as much work as he can.”

“Oh!” Elizabeth Ann exclaimed. “Did that man with the red nose take a boy?”

“I’m afraid he did,” said Uncle Hiram. “I’m sorry for any lad who has to live with a man like that. It seems this poor boy couldn’t stand it any longer. He ran away, and the man was searching for him.”

“I hope he doesn’t find him!” Elizabeth Ann declared.

Uncle Hiram didn’t say anything, but Elizabeth Ann was sure he hoped that the boy would not be found.

“Are we there?” asked a sleepy little voice, and Doris sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“Almost there!” Uncle Hiram said cheerfully. “Have to go around one more curve and take the first turn to the right, and then you’ll see the Bonnie Susie.”

Tony meowed mournfully in his basket. Perhaps he was tired of automobiling.

“I’ve learned a lot while you were asleep,” Elizabeth Ann informed Doris, gently rocking the basket to let Tony know she heard him. “I learned about varmints, and taken boys.”

And she explained about them to Doris, who was interested too.

“There’s the Bonnie Susie!” announced Uncle Hiram suddenly.

Both little girls stood up then, because they were most anxious to see Uncle Hiram’s house.

“Why,” said Elizabeth Ann, in amazement, “why, it really is a ship!”