  Turning the team, they started back. Dapple and Dolly lagged along, heads down; they were tired, and it was close to supper time. Jack and DesirÉ peered into the bushes and trees on either side of the road for a glimpse of a red coat. Around a bend, among the trees far back from the road, they finally saw what they sought. Stopping the wagon, they watched for a moment to see what she was doing. Intently, apparently without thought of anything else, she was stealthily following a small black and white animal. Before they could shout a warning, she suddenly darted forward and seized the little creature. Out of her hands it twisted, filling the air with a strong, unpleasant odor; then it disappeared into the dense woods. “Oh!” groaned Jack. “Priscilla!” called DesirÉ sharply. The child looked up, and began coming toward them. “Stand right where you are,” directed Jack, when she reached the edge of the clearing. “Don’t come any nearer. What on earth possessed you to meddle with a wood pussy?” “I—I thought it was a kitten,” faltered the little girl, thoroughly frightened. “If you’d followed us closely, as Jack told you, you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble,” said DesirÉ severely. “What can we do with her, Jack?” “I’ll get a pail of water from that pond, while you find fresh clothing; then I’ll carry the things over to the woods. She’ll have to go behind that clump of scrub pine and take off her clothing, make up the garments into a bundle, throw it as far into the woods as she can, then bathe and put on fresh things,” replied Jack, taking a pail and starting down the road toward a small, but deep, pool of water. “I’ll go and help her,” said DesirÉ, when he returned. “Stay right where you are,” he directed quietly but firmly. “She can manage perfectly well by herself.” He crossed the road; and DesirÉ, though she could not quite distinguish the words, listened to the brief, curt orders he issued to the unfortunate little girl. Then he returned and stood leaning against the side of the wagon. RenÉ had dozed off, and DesirÉ laid him on the seat. “This is one phase of our adventure that we did not consider,” began Jack, after a pause. His face looked more serious, even, than usual. “What? Prissy getting mixed up with a wood pussy?” laughed DesirÉ. “No. The problem of discipline. The free and lazy life is going to let the youngsters get a bit out of hand, I’m afraid.” “RenÉ’s only a baby,” said DesirÉ reassuringly. “We should have no trouble managing him. Of course Priscilla is rather difficult at times; she goes from one extreme to another so quickly. You never know exactly what she will do next. At home, I sometimes sent her to bed; but that would be rather difficult in a wagon. But she’s a good little thing, and we’ll do the best we can. You mustn’t worry about it, Jack,” concluded DesirÉ, bending over to touch his thick brown curls. He caught her hand in his and held it until Priscilla appeared from among the trees, freshly clothed, and swinging the empty pail in her hand. Without a word Jack helped her into the wagon and they headed once more for the town. The sun had sunk below the horizon; the woods were getting dim; and the sky was a soft rose and gold when they entered Meteghan. Surely the whole population must be abroad, so filled were the streets with people all headed toward the church. “What do you suppose is going on?” asked DesirÉ, viewing the scene rather wistfully. “I don’t know,” replied Jack, pulling the wagon into a free space between two other vehicles. Almost immediately a tall, awkward youth sauntered over to them. “Where’s old Simon?” Jack explained, adding, “What’s doing here?” “Pie social,” was the laconic reply. “Better go.” “Where is it held?” asked DesirÉ, leaning out and smiling down into his keen grey eyes. “Church basement; it’s for the benefit of the church. Costs you a pie to get in.” At this point, a companion called to the boy, and he strolled away. “Like to go?” asked Jack, who had not been unobservant of DesirÉ’s eager interest. “How could we? We haven’t any pies.” “There must be some place to buy them. Surely some enterprising person would foresee the market. Let’s look around a bit.” He tied the horses to a post and locked the doors. RenÉ was wide awake by this time, and eager for new adventures; so the four, Priscilla still silent, walked along the streets of the little town until they found a place bearing a sign—“Pies for sale.” Here they purchased four pies, and turned their steps toward the church. At the door a pretty girl took their donations, and they were allowed to enter. Along the sides of the little basement were rough board counters loaded with pies of every size and variety. One could buy whatever one desired, from a whole pie to a small slice. “We’re like the Chinese,” smiled Jack, as they stood eating pieces of custard pie; “dessert first, then more substantial food.” The pretty girl who had been at the door now approached them, and smiling at Jack, said—“We’re going to dance here tonight after all the pies are sold. Hope you will all stay.” “I’m sorry, but we shall not be able to,” he replied courteously. “I have old Simon’s wagon out there, and can’t leave it so long.” “Oh, we heard about the young man who was going to take Simon’s route. My folks know him real well. He often puts the wagon in our barn and stays all night at our house. Why—wait a minute.” She darted off, and returned almost immediately with a short, thick-set man, who looked like a farmer. “This is my father, Jean Riboux,” she said. “I’m Prudence.” “My name is Wistmore,” replied Jack, shaking hands; “and these are my sisters, DesirÉ and Priscilla; and my little brother RenÉ.” “Pleased to know you, both for yourselves and for old Simon,” responded the man, with unmistakable cordiality. “You must make free at our place, same as he did. Drive over, put up the team, and stay all night.” Though Jack protested, the man would hear of no refusal, and ten minutes later they turned into a nearby farmyard. Jean took the horses away from Jack, and sent the Wistmores into the house to his wife who had come to the door to meet them. “Your husband and daughter insisted upon our coming here for the night,” said Jack, after introductions had been made; “but I think it is entirely too much. There are so many of us—” “There’s always a welcome here for any friends of old Simon’s,” was Mrs. Riboux’s quiet reply; “and we have plenty of room. We were sorry to hear of his bad luck; but then, it turned out well for you,” looking at the little family curiously. “Yes, the opportunity to take the route came just as we were looking for something for the summer,” said DesirÉ, smiling shyly at their hostess. “Oh, then you’re not goin’ to keep it regular?” “That can not be decided,” contributed Jack, “until we see how things go.” As they gathered around the table for supper, the boy who had told them about the Pie Social slid into one of the chairs and grinned at DesirÉ. “Didn’t think you’d see me again so soon, did you?” “That’s Ormand, Orrie for short,” explained Prudence, who sat beside Jack right across the table from them. “I guessed who you people were as soon as I laid eyes on Dapple and Dolly; and I knew you’d turn up here finally.” The conversation of the elders turned to crops, and continued throughout the meal, while the younger people talked of the coming dance. “Now,” said Mrs. Riboux to DesirÉ, as they left the table, “why don’t you put the little fellow to bed and go to the dance with my boy and girl? I’ll watch out for him,” as DesirÉ hesitated and looked at Jack. “All ages go to these socials, so your sister could go along too,” she added, as the Wistmores started up the long flight of stairs to their rooms. “I’ll put RenÉ to bed while you dress up a bit,” offered Jack, taking the little boy by the hand, and preparing to leave DesirÉ. She detained him, however, and asked in a low tone, “What about—?” motioning toward the door of her room, which Priscilla had entered ahead of her. “Trot on into that room across the hall, Renny,” directed Jack, starting him in the right direction; “and see how nearly ready for bed you can get before I come.” “Although she is far too young for dances,” he continued, “since it is the custom here for girls of her age to attend them, I should have allowed her to go; but in the light of this afternoon’s escapade, I think she should be deprived of the pleasure. Don’t you?” “Y—e—s; I suppose so; but I’m afraid she’ll make a fuss, for she expects to go. And I do hate to disappoint her.” Without replying, Jack stepped into the room where his younger sister was standing before an old-fashioned mirror combing her hair. “Priscilla,” he began quietly, “you weren’t counting on going to the dance; were you?” “Yes, I am,” she retorted quickly, turning to face him. “You heard Mrs. Riboux say that girls of my age go.” “That is not the point at all. What about this afternoon’s disobedience?” “It wasn’t my fault that I met that awful animal,” she muttered, half under her breath. “You are being purposely stupid, Priscilla. You know very well that you were deliberately disobedient in not following the wagon as I told you to. If you can’t obey, we shall all have a miserable summer. To impress that fact on your mind, you must stay right here in your room until we come back; that is, unless RenÉ wants something.” Jack crossed the hall to his own room, and DesirÉ looked pityingly on her sister, who had thrown herself into a chair beside the window and was giving way to tears. There was no use trying to reason with Priscilla when the child was in one of these moods; so she went about her own preparations for the evening, in silence; but considerable of her own pleasure was taken out of the prospect. Before leaving, she stooped over the big chair in which the little girl crouched, put her arms around her, and kissed her affectionately without speaking. Priscilla also said nothing, but she returned the kiss; and DesirÉ, recognizing the act as the beginning of a return to normal conditions, felt happier about leaving her. Ormand and Prudence Riboux were evidently very popular among the young folks of the country; and they introduced their guests to so many boys and girls that the Wistmores were never at a loss for partners. “Wasn’t it fun!” cried DesirÉ joyously, as she said goodnight to Jack in the dim upper hall, lighted only by their two candles. “Didn’t you have a good time?” “Yes, I did.” “And just think, we’ve made some new friends already. I like the Riboux family.” “So do I; they’re fine people,” agreed Jack absentmindedly. He was thinking about tomorrow’s trip into the Clare District. That was going to be the hardest part of the route, going through their old home and its neighboring towns. “Jack!” cried DesirÉ, as she entered her room. “Prissy’s gone!” |
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