"Then there's nothin , to worry about," Gussie stated. "It's goin' to be a fine party."
A fine party? With no one to help him cook? Danny almost wished Ma wasn't coming.
No sooner had their guests arrived on Sunday afternoon than it began to snow heavily. Katherine lifted the curtains to glance from the parlor window. "Maybe we should head back to town," she said.
"But you just got here!" Danny cried. "Anyhow, it's started snowing so heavily you wouldn't be able to find the way." He had worked hard on the preparations for dinner, and he wanted everything to go smoothly. They couldn't leave!
Katherine glanced at Ma, a worried look in her eyes. "I'm afraid he's right," she said.
Ma gave Danny a reassuring smile. "We won't think about the snowfall," she said. "There's a fine dinner cooking, and good company, and we'll have a grand afternoon."
Peg, with Whiskers firmly in one arm, tugged at her mother's skirts. "Ma, will you sing for us?"
"Oh, please do," Katherine said. "Danny told us you have a beautiful voice, but I haven't heard you sing."
Ma blushed a little and laughed. "The Irish songs I know may seem strange to you."
"I would like very much to hear them," Alfrid said.
So Ma stood by the windows, the light from outside creating a gleaming ring around her hair, and sang of the green hills and valleys and of loves and families left behind.
Katherine's eyes were damp, and she was fumbling
for a handkerchief that she'd tucked into her sleeve, when Ma suddenly broke into a rollicking tune, ending it by lifting her skirts to her ankles, her feet flashing in a quick fancy dance step.
"Do it again, Ma! Again!" Peg clapped her hands.
But Danny jumped to his feet shouting, "Something's burning!"
He raced to the kitchen, Ma right behind him. Grabbing a cloth to protect his hands, he swung the kettle of potatoes out from the fireplace. The water had boiled away, and those on the bottom had scorched.
"We'll save the ones on top," Ma said as she scooped them into a bowl and covered them with another cloth to keep them warm. "Shall we see about the rest of the meal?"
Danny opened the door of the brick oven. "I think the chicken is done," he said. He poked at a drumstick with a long-handled fork, and the drumstick fell off into the bottom of the pan.
"I like it well done," Ma said. "What else will we be having?"
"Carrots," Danny said with a sinking feeling. The carrots were still sitting in a pan of water on the table. He'd forgotten to put them on the fire.
Ma gave him a quick hug. "They're as good raw as they are cooked," she said. "Why don't you pour off the water and put them into a bowl, and we'll get the meal on the table?"
Peg, hovering in the doorway, made a face. "Something smells awful!" she said.
"Get out of here!" Danny growled at her.
"You said I could help."
"Maybe you could put the bread on the table," Ma told her. She turned to Danny. "Do you have a little jelly or maybe some preserves to go with it?"
'Til carry this!" Before anyone could stop her, Peg
grabbed the heavy bowl that held the milk pudding, struggled to keep her grip on it, and dropped it. The bowl broke, and the pudding splashed and slithered across the floor.
Danny cried out, lunged toward Peg, and slid into the pudding. He sat down hard on the wooden floor.
"Careful, Danny. I'll help you up," Ma said. She held out a hand but missed her footing on the slippery floor and landed on top of Danny.
"Ma!" Peg rushed toward her mother, skidded, and fell flat. Peg raised her face, pudding dripping from her nose and chin, and Ma began to laugh.
Katherine and Alfrid rushed into the room. Alfrid tried to raise Ma up, but she was helpless with laughter. Finally she struggled to her feet. Katherine had pulled Peg and Danny up and began cleaning them off.
Alfrid looked at Ma with bewilderment and said, "I don't understand why you were laughing. You had a bad fall and could have been hurt."
Ma rubbed her right elbow. "I'll have a lump here all right," she said, "but there's nothing like a good laugh to take away the pain."
Katherine handed Ma a towel. "I've dried Peg's dress the best I could," she said. "But the back of your skirt is pretty well stained."
"It will wash," Ma said.
"Peg ruined the pudding!" Danny said, Although he'd had to laugh along with Ma, he was now beginning to get angry at Peg all over again.
But Ma's spirits weren't daunted. She scooped up Peg, who was puckering up to cry, and said, "Let's eijoy the rest of this good dinner Danny has made for us. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm hungry."
"I am, too!" Katherine said.
Danny struggled to get his feelings under control. "Then sit down at the table, and I'll bring in the dinner. Just don't let Peg help anymore!"
He soon decided the others must be hungrier than he was. The chicken was so overdone Alfrid had to use a spoon along with the meat fork in order to lift portions to the plates. The potatoes tasted awful, even with the butter Danny slathered over them. Ma cheerfully crunched away on the raw carrots. Gussie's bread was doughy at the bottom, but everyone ate it without complaint.
After dinner, when the dishes were cleared, washed, and put away, and the last traces of the pudding cleaned off the floor, they all moved back to the parlor. Alfrid began lighting more lamps. "With the weather the way it is—" he began.
Ma suddenly put a hand on his arm. "Shhh! Listen," she said. She tilted her head and whispered, "I think it's stopped snowing."
Peg ran to the window and peered out into the dark. "The snow's not very deep," she reported. "But it's pretty. Come and look, Ma. The moon is shining on the snow and making it yellow and red."
"Yellow and red?" Danny asked. "Peg sometimes—" He stopped as he suddenly felt that something was seriously wrong.
Alfrid shoved back his chair and ran to the kitchen at the same time Danny did, throwing open the kitchen door. Here the red and gold light was blinding, a whoosh of sparks and flame.
The haystack nearest to the barn was on fire!
Danny grabbed a bucket. "Everybody! C'mon! We'll get water from the well!" he shouted, trying to squeeze past Alfrid. u Ma! Katherine! Help us!"
But Alfrid grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Wait!" he cautioned. "Listen!"
With an air-sucking, crackling roar a second haystack exploded into flame.
Ma gasped. "What's happening?"
Before Alfrid could answer, three figures on horseback galloped from behind the far haystack. Like black demons silhouetted against the flames, they raced toward the house. Terrified, Danny could hear his own heart pounding in his ears.
"Hang the abolitionists!" one of them yelled, and fired a handgun into the air.
Alfrid slammed and bolted the door. The men on horseback yelled and fired into the air as they headed for the front of the house. Peg screamed, and Danny squeezed his eyes shut, clapping his hands over his ears.
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Alfrid immediately took charge. He put out the lamp so that the kitchen was lit only with the glow of the fireplace. "Stay out of the kitchen," he ordered. "There could be stray bullets. Noreen, take Peg into the hallway and sit under the staircase. It's the safest place I can think of." As Ma hesitated, Alfrid barked, "Now!" Ma swept up Peg and ran.
"Katherine, do you know how to use a gun?" Alfrid asked as he strode through the dining room into the parlor, Danny and Katherine right behind him. Katherine quickly extinguished the oil lamps in both rooms.
"Yes," she answered.
In the dim light Alfrid opened a cabinet and pulled out two rifles, ball, powder, and cap. "Fve used these only for hunting game to stock the larder." Danny could hear the sadness in Alfrid's voice as he added, "I hate to put them to any other use. We'll shoot only to defend ourselves, only if there's no other choice."
Katherine glanced toward Ma and Peg in the darkness under the stairway. "Do you think those men will try to kil
l us?" she whispered.
"No," Alfrid said. "I think they're merely trying to terrorize us. Once Mundy feels he has his revenge—"
Mundy! The name left Danny breathless and trembling. Katherine was asking, "Mundy? Who is he?"
The riders had circled the house, and now Danny heard them make another turn past the front. This time one of the parlor windows shattered. Katherine gasped, and Danny started. He could hear Peg crying and Ma trying to comfort her.
"There's no time to explain," Alfrid told Katherine. Crouching beside the broken window, he fumbled through the pieces of broken glass and held up a small rock. "I don't think they'll actually shoot at us," he said. 'They're eiyoying their game of terror."
Danny didn't agree. That night in the alley Alfrid had
said that Mundy wouldn't bother them if they left him alone, and he'd been wrong. Now Danny was afraid that Alfrid was wrong once again.
"Katherine, go to one of the back windows," Alfrid said.
"What should I do?" Danny asked.
"Just stay down and be ready," Alfrid said. "If we must shoot, we will need you to help us reload quickly."
With a whoosh of air and a loud crackle, the light outside suddenly grew brighter. "Another haystack," Alfrid muttered.
Maybe the haystacks were just the beginning, Danny thought. Maybe Mundy would set fire to the barn next, or to the house. Danny couldn't bear just to wait and see what Mundy and his chums had planned for them. He and Alfrid should have a plan of their own.
Silently Danny crept into the kitchen where he could get a better view of the barn and field. He cautiously peeked from the window just in time to see the horsemen approaching the house once again. As they thundered past, Danny leapt back, striking the wall so hard that an object fell off a shelf, hitting him on the head.
"Ouch!" he muttered. As he put up a hand to rub his head, there was a loud blast from a handgun, and the kitchen window shattered. It hadn't been a rock this time. It had been a bullet. Danny dropped to the floor, shivering in the cold blast of air. There was no doubt in Danny's mind that when Mundy was ready he would try to kill them.
As he scrambled away from the broken glass his fingers touched a familiar object—the rough ball of twine. So that's what had hit him on the head! He was about to return the twine to the shelf when an idea came to him. This ball of twine might be the answer to their problem.
Excited, Danny quickly pulled on his coat and steathily opened the kitchen door. For his plan to succeed, Mundy
and the men with him would have to race around the house at least one more time. Danny hoped that their horses wouldn't be hurt, but he had to take that chance.
Danny crept out and down the stairs. As fast as he could, his fingers stiff and aching with the cold, he tied one end of the twine to the supports under the back step, about a foot above the ground. He tugged at the knot, making sure it was secure, then ran with the ball of twine, paying it out, until he arrived at the barn. There he tied the twine around a post, pulling the line taut. The men were behind the house now, whooping and yelling and riding fast.
He had barely secured the knot when he heard the horses approaching at a gallop. He sucked in his breath, flattening himself against the open barn door. Hoofprints had muddied the ground, so the dark twine wouldn't be as obvious as it would have been against clean snow.
When the first horse fell it was like a horrible nightmare, a wild jumble of screaming and shouting. The other horses tripped and stumbled, and the men on their backs went flying. A gun bounced on the ground near Danny's feet, and he snatched it up.
As the fallen horse staggered to its feet, Danny gave a loud sigh of relief. One by one, the horses ran off, reins swinging free and stirrups flapping from their empty saddles. One of the men on the ground lay without moving, his chest heaving as he breathed. A second man grabbed his left leg, rolling back and forth and groaning. Danny turned to see a third man stealthily creeping on hands and knees toward him. It was Mundy.
Danny whirled and aimed the gun.
At the same time Alfrid burst from the house. "Mundy! Stop where you are!" Alfrid ordered and raised his rifle.
Mundy hesitated, crouching like an animal.
"I mean what I say. If you try to harm my son Til shoot you." There was an anger in Alfrid's voice that Danny had never heard there.
Mundy dropped flat, rested his forehead on his arms, and muttered angrily under his breath.
The door slammed open as Ma and {Catherine ran from the house. Without taking his eyes from Mundy, Alfrid gave a sharp nod toward the other two men on the ground. "Will you see to them, please?" he asked the women.
They worked quickly in spite of the cold. Katherine and Alfrid bound the three men and secured them inside the barn, while Ma, Danny, and Peg scattered the remains of the smoldering haystacks and doused them with buckets of water.
As Ma and Katherine went ahead into the house, Danny hung back, telling Alfrid that Mundy had been collecting money for a Southern army and then keeping it.
"You should have told me sooner," Alfrid said. "Mundy was stealing. He should have been stopped."
"I was afraid to tell you. You said that if we left Mundy alone, he'd stay away from us. I didn't want him to come back and hurt you."
Alfrid put his hands on Danny's shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes. "My own father gave me a saying to live by. Supposedly it was first said by a British statesman named Edmund Burke, who lived during the last century. I want you to listen carefully and always remember these words: The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.'"
Danny nodded, repeating the words in his mind. "I won't forget. Ever."
Alfrid put his arm around Danny's shoulders, and they began to walk toward the house. "Mundy won't fare well with his Southern sympathizers when they hear what he's been up to," he said.
While Alfrid tacked boards over the broken windows, Ma heated some water so they could all wash their sooty
hands and faces. Danny, who was exhausted, splashed his face gladly.
"I'm proud of you," Alfrid said to Danny. u You chose a good plan of action."
Danny beamed. "We work well together, you and I."
"That we do," Alfrid said.
The expression on Ma's face, however, wasn't one of agreement. "That was a very dangerous thing to do, Danny," she said. She turned to Alfrid. "I think we need to talk."
Danny didn't want any part of that talk. He scurried into the parlor, where he added some wood to the fire in the fireplace and lay in front of it, soaking up the warmth. He could hear Katherine and Ma and Alfrid, out in the kitchen, talking on and on. Danny was glad that Alfrid could do the explaining to Ma. He wouldn't want to. It was much nicer to lie by the fire and doze.
Katherine's voice interrupted his dream. "Danny, wake up," she said gently. "It's time for us to leave."
Danny fought his way to wakefulness and struggled to his feet. "What about Mundy and the other men in the barn?" he asked.
Katherine put on her coat, rubbing her hands together. "When we get back to St. Joe, we'll send some men to take those three into custody," she saidv
Ma strode into the room, dressed to go outside. She was carrying a bundle of clothing. Danny gasped as he recognized his own clothes. "Ma! What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm moving you back to St. Joseph with me," she said. "Katherine says she'll be glad to have you come and stay."
"But I can't go!" Danny cried. "Alfrid will be all alone!"
"He's a grown man," Ma said. "He can take care of himself. It's you I'm concerned about, love. It's not safe for you here."
"Ma! It was only Dr. Mundy! He'll be put in jail. He won't cause us any more trouble!"
'Trouble? There are troubles all around us. These are dangerous times. If it's not Dr. Mundy causing the trouble, it could be someone else. Danny, I want you with me, where I can keep an eye on you."
Danny flung himself into a chair. "I don't want to go!
I want to stay here with my father."
"Danny," Ma began, sudden tears glittering in her eyes.
But Danny suddenly saw a solution to the problem and interrupted, throwing his arms wide. "Ma," he said, "this is a silly thing to argue about—whether I stay here or whether I go with you. There's no more reason for you and Alfrid to wait to get married. Why not do it tomorrow? Then we can all live here together."
For a moment no one spoke. Then Ma answered, her voice sorrowful, "Danny, love, it seems as though I'll be hurting you again. Alfrid and I have decided. We aren't going to marry."
Danny felt the horror creep into his chest, and he clenched his hands together. "Ma! I don't believe it!" he stammered. "You—you came out here just to marry Alfrid!"
"Not just to marry!" Ma said quickly. "Oh, Danny, love, I missed my children so much, I jumped at the chance to be with you."
As his mother moved toward him, her arms out, Danny backed away from her. "Do you mean you never intended to marry Alfrid?"
"No! That's not what I said. I did intend to marry him, and I had every intention of keeping my promise, but—" Ma grasped for the arm of the nearest chair and plopped into the seat. A tear ran down her nose, and she fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then looked up at Danny with determination. "You may find this hard to understand," she said, "but Alfrid and I—I admire him greatly, but—"
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Alfrid had come into the parlor. Now he stepped forward. "Danny," he said, "your mother and I are very different people. While we like each other's company, it is not enough of a foundation on which to build a marriage."
"Melba said that people don't have to love each other to get married!" Danny insisted.
"It makes a marriage stronger if they do," Ma said, and began to blush, red creeping up to stain her cheeks.
Danny stared at her, puzzled. Ma drew Peg to her and held out a hand to Danny, who ignored it. "I have met a man who loves me very much, and I love him," Ma said.
Danny was appalled. "Not that John Murphy!" he shouted.
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