CHAPTER VI
OFF TO SILVER LAKE
The sick man smiled at the children and at Mr. and Mrs. Martin. Whenhe smiled he had a very pleasant face—in fact, he had a very pleasantface at all times, now that he was getting well and strong.
“I’m glad to know I look like some one in this family, which has beenso kind to me,” he said. “But I’m sorry to say I’m not your Uncle Ben,my dear little Curlytop!”
Ted was surprised to hear the man use the pet name, but then that wasnot strange, as many persons, seeing Ted and Jan for the first time,called them “Curlytops,” for that name seemed just to fit them.
“Aren’t you anybody’s Uncle Ben?” asked Janet softly. “You lookexactly as if you ought to be somebody’s Uncle Ben.”
The man, sitting up in the easy chair laughed, and his laugh was apleasant one and caused the children to like him more than ever.
“Yes,” he said, “I suppose I am some one’s Uncle Ben. My name, which Ihave not had a chance to tell you,” he went on, “is Benjamin Wilson,”and he looked at Mr. and Mrs. Martin. “Some years ago my sister, wholived in New York, had two children, and of course I was Uncle Ben tothem. But they both died, and now I am not Uncle Ben to any one.”
Just then Baby William, who was always an impulsive little chap, brokeaway from Jan, who was holding him, and ran to the strange man—no, Imust not call him a stranger any longer. I must use his name—Mr.Wilson. Trouble climbed up into the lap of Mr. Wilson, and clasped hisbaby fingers in the man’s brown beard.
“I ’ikes you!” he lisped.
“Do you? Well, I’m glad of that. And I like you!” laughed Mr. Wilson.
“Say!” cried Teddy, struck with a new thought, “couldn’t you be ourUncle Ben?”
Mr. Wilson looked at Mr. and Mrs. Martin.
“If you don’t mind, the children could call you that,” said the motherof the Curlytops. “The Uncle Ben they speak of, whose picture is inour photograph album, is my uncle, but they always claim him as theirown. He does look a great deal like you. His name is BenjaminThompson, and he lives in Florida. We don’t see him very often, butthe children like to look at his picture.”
“He looks just like you,” declared Jan. “Can’t we call you Uncle Ben?”
Mr. Wilson did not answer for a moment. Then, looking at Mr. and Mrs.Martin, he said:
“You have been so kind to me that I must tell you my story. Afterthat, if the children want to, they may call me Uncle Ben. But it willbe only for a little while, as I hope soon to be able to travel on.”
Mr. Wilson’s story was quite a long one, and I will not put it alldown here. Enough to say that he had worked as a sailor for a numberof years, until he lost his health. Then he had to get something elseto do. But he did not get better, his relatives all died or he losttrack of them, and at last he could not work hard enough, any longer,to make a good living.
“So I turned into what is often called a tramp,” he said. “I went fromplace to place, trying to get a little work here and there. A doctortold me that if I could live out of doors for six months I would getwell and strong again. But the only kind of life out of doors is thaton a farm or being a sailor, and I am not strong enough to plow and dofarm work, and cannot get on a ship. So I don’t know what to do.
“I wandered to Cresco, thinking perhaps I might get work here. Ididn’t have very much to eat, and when I reached your house I was weakand I just couldn’t go any further. Everything seemed to be goingaround and around, and I—I fell down, I guess.”
“Yes, you did,” said Teddy, who, like Jan, was eagerly listening tothis story. “You fell down, and Miss Ransom told us you were actingfunny, and we told mother, and——”
“Yes, and you brought me in and have been very kind to me ever since,”said Mr. Wilson. “But I cannot stay here. I must travel on and see ifI can’t get work out of doors. Then I could get well and strongagain.”
“And now may we call you Uncle Ben?” asked Jan, when the man hadbrought his story to a close.
“Of course you may, children!” exclaimed their mother. “If he wasUncle Ben once he is Uncle Ben still, and though he isn’t the sameUncle Ben you know down in Florida, I think it will be nice to callhim that, since it really is his name.”
“Were you a sailor long, Uncle Ben?” asked Ted, now that this pointwas settled.
“Yes, I was a sailor for several years,” was the answer. “I sailed tomany queer places, and once I was shipwrecked. Then I was taken illand found a sailor’s life too hard for me. I liked it, though, for Ilike to be near the water and around boats. All sailors do.”
“Miss Ransom’s brother was a sailor,” said Janet. “And he went off ona ship and maybe he was shipwrecked, and she didn’t ever see himagain, and he left her a funny box that nobody except two or threecould open, but the burglars took the box and did you see them, I meanthe burglars, Uncle Ben?” she asked, all out of breath.
“My, that’s a lot of talk for a little girl!” exclaimed Mr. Wilson,with a laugh. “And who is this Mrs. Ransom at whose house the burglarscalled?”
By turns they explained to him what had happened and how the littlestore had been robbed.
“It happened the same day you came to our house, Uncle Ben,” saidTeddy. “And Tom Taylor and I were thinking maybe we could catch therobbers if Constable Juke didn’t. So—maybe—did you see any of ’em asyou came along—tramping on the road, you know?”
Uncle Ben shook his head.
“If I saw the robbers I didn’t know them,” he answered. “I was tooweak and sick to notice anything. All I wanted was to get to a placewhere I could lie down and rest, and then have something to eat,perhaps. And I found such a place, thanks to you,” he added with agrateful look at Mr. and Mrs. Martin.
“Well, now, children, you have heard and talked enough, I think,” saidMrs. Martin to Ted and Jan, who were crowded as close as they couldget to their new friend. “Come, Trouble!” and she held out her hands.
“Trouble! Is that his name?” asked Mr. Wilson.
“It’s his pet name,” answered Mr. Martin. “Though he does get intotrouble now and then. But we must let you rest. Please stay here aslong as you like, and you must not go until we have had another talk.I may be able to find out-of-doors work for you that will not be ashard as farming or as work on shipboard.”
“I wish you could!” said Uncle Ben eagerly. “I want to work. I don’tlike being a tramp. And I want to be a real Uncle Ben to theseCurlytops!” and he smiled at Ted and Jan.
“I ’ikes you!” said Trouble again. “You be my Unk Ben, too?”
“If you want me to, I will,” was the smiling answer.
“Yes—me wants!” said Trouble, as if that settled it. And not untilthen did he slip down out of the comfortable lap.
“It’s nice to have an Uncle Ben, isn’t it?” asked Ted of Janet afterthey had left the room.
“Awful nice,” she replied. “I hope he’ll stay with us forever.”
“And I hope Tom and I can catch the burglars and get back MissRansom’s queer box,” said Teddy. “Maybe she’ll give us a reward.”
“I’d rather get back Skyrocket than the box,” said Janet. “But courseI want Miss Ransom to get her box too. But I want Skyrocket most ofall!”
“Oh, so do I!” exclaimed her brother. “Oh, Jan!” he cried. “I justthought of it! Maybe the burglars took our dog!”
“Maybe they did!” agreed Jan.
“I’m going to tell Constable Juke!” decided Ted.
But just then his mother called to ask him to bring in some chips toboil the teakettle, and it was not until some time later that thelittle boy had a chance to go to the constable about the lost dog. ForSkyrocket continued to be lost. Though Ted and Janet hunted all overtown for him, and their boy and girl friends did the same, Skyrocketwas not to be found, nor did he come back to his sleeping box in thewoodshed.
Though Ted and Janet felt very bad about their loss, so many otherthings happened at
the same time that they did not grieve as otherwisethey might have done. They had something else to think about.
“Mother, has daddy said any more about where we are going for ourvacation?” asked Janet one day.
“Yes; what about Silver Lake?” inquired Teddy.
“Oh, we haven’t forgotten about vacation—or Silver Lake, either,” saidMrs. Martin with a smile. “I think daddy will have something to tellyou this evening. Now, Jan, will you run over to Mrs. Kent’s, and askher if she can let me have the spool of strong, black thread. I wantto mend some of Uncle Ben’s clothes. Mrs. Ransom was out of it andMrs. Kent said she had some she would let me have.”
“I’ll go!” exclaimed Jan. “Will Uncle Ben come out and play with usto-day?”
“Well, perhaps to-morrow,” her mother answered. “Dr. Whitney said hemust not go too fast all at once. He may take a walk with youto-morrow or next day.”
“Goody!” cried Janet.
“That’ll be fun!” exclaimed Ted.
The more the Curlytops saw of Uncle Ben the more they liked him. AndMr. and Mrs. Martin, too, were growing fond of the stranger who hadfallen almost at their very door. He proved to be a good man, and Mr.Martin was sure he was one who could be trusted. He was slowly gettingbetter, and could walk around the house now and go out into the yardand sit in the shade. But he had not been able, yet, to play with Tedand Jan, who wanted some one pretty lively to enter into their games.
“You look after Trouble while Janet goes for the thread for me,” saidMrs. Martin to Teddy.
“All right, Mother,” was the answer. “Come on, Trouble. We’ll go downto the brook and I’ll show you my water wheel. It splashes around likeanything!”
Janet soon reached Mrs. Kent’s house and told what was wanted. Mrs.Kent was busy churning. Into a blue tub, shaped like a barrel, she hadpoured some sour cream. Inside the barrel was a round piece of wood,called a “dasher,” and fastened to this was a long stick, like a broomhandle. Mrs. Kent made the handle go up and down, and this splashedthe dasher in the sour cream, and churned it into butter.
She had just taken off the cover, to look in to see how near thebutter was to “coming” when Jan arrived.
“Sit down here, my dear, while I get the thread for you,” said Mrs.Kent. “I won’t be but a moment.”
Janet sat down. Then she thought she would look down in the churn, tosee if there were any little round balls of yellow butter yet. Hermother often churned, and Jan knew all about it.
Over the edge of the churn leaned the little girl. Then she gave asudden cry and hurried back to her chair. She had hardly sat down init before Mrs. Kent came back with the spool of thread.
“There you are, Jan,” she said. “And how is every one over at yourhouse? I hear you have a new visitor.”
“Yes’m, only he’s going to be our Uncle Ben now,” answered the littlegirl. “He’s getting better, and we’re all well. And say, Mrs. Kent,when you get through churning will you please give me back my rubberdoll?”
“Give you back your rubber doll! Gracious me, child! what do you mean?I haven’t your rubber doll!”
“Yes, you have,” insisted Jan, with a funny little smile.
“Why, no, dear, I haven’t.”
“You can’t see her,” said Janet. “She’s in the butter.”
“In the _butter_!”
“I—I just dropped her in the churn,” explained the little girl. “Youleft the cover off, and I looked in to see if the butter had come, andmy rubber doll slipped, and now she—now she’s in the churn!”
Mrs. Kent quickly lifted off the cover, which Janet had put partlyback on, and as she did so she cried:
“There she is! Oh, Janet!”
“Oh, it won’t hurt her,” said Janet easily. “She’s a rubber doll, youknow, and water or milk, or even butter, won’t hurt her. You can giveher back to me after you make the butter.”
“OH, IT WON’T HURT HER,” SAID JANET EASILY. “SHE’S ARUBBER DOLL.”]
“Oh, but Janet dear! To drop a—a rubber doll in my clean cream!And—and——”
“Oh, my doll was awful clean,” explained Janet. “I washed her nicejust before I came over, really I did.”
“Well, that makes it better,” said Mrs. Kent with a smile. “Wait andI’ll fish her out for you, Janet. I guess my butter won’t be spoiledafter all. It’s a good thing your doll is rubber.”
“That’s what I thought after she fell in,” Janet said. “It won’t hurther a bit. And a lady once told my mamma that buttermilk was good forfreckles. Only my doll hasn’t any.”
The doll was “fished” out of the churn, wiped off and given back toJanet, who tucked her under one arm and then hurried home with thespool of thread.
The Curlytops waited eagerly for their father to come home that night,for they wanted to ask him about Silver Lake.
“Yes,” he told them, after supper, when Janet and Ted had climbed onhis knees and Trouble was seated in Uncle Ben’s lap, “we will spendour vacation at Silver Lake. I think you will like it there.”
“Shall we have a tent?” asked Ted.
“And a boat?” asked Jan.
“An’—an’—a drum?” Trouble wanted to know. “I wants a drum!”
“I don’t know about the drum!” said his father with a laugh, “butwe’ll have a tent, and also a bungalow. We’ll eat in the tent when itdoesn’t rain. We’ll also have a boat, for Silver Lake is a fine placefor them. And there will be lots of other things so you children canhave a good time. But now you must get to bed. We will start forSilver Lake to-morrow.”
And you can well believe that when to-morrow came the Curlytops wereup bright and early. Such packing and getting ready as there was! ButDaddy and Mother Martin, with the help of Patrick and Nora, managed toget things in shape finally. The automobile was brought around to thedoor. Turnover, the cat, had been shut up in a little crate, for she,also, was to be taken to Silver Lake.
“If we only had Skyrocket!” sighed Jan.
“Maybe he’ll find out where we are and come to us,” said Tedhopefully.
Trouble stood on the porch, holding Uncle Ben’s hand.
At the sight of the man with the brown beard, whom they had learned tolike very much, Ted and Jan had a new thought.
“Oh, isn’t Uncle Ben coming with us?” cried the Curlytops.
“Yes, of course he is,” said Mr. Martin. “I forgot to tell you abouthim. Uncle Ben is coming with us, and will stay all summer at SilverLake. He is to have charge of the boats there, for I own quite anumber, and also a pavilion and a soda-water stand. Uncle Ben willhave charge of them. It will be just the place for him, Dr. Whitneysays, and will make him get well.”
“I’m sure it will,” said Uncle Ben himself. “I can’t tell you how muchI thank you, Mr. Martin. And I am delighted to spend the summer withthe Curlytops at Silver Lake. Come on now, Trouble, we’ll get aboardthe auto.”
“All aboard for Silver Lake!” cried Ted gaily.
They started off, the whole family and Uncle Ben. Then, just as theyreached a turn in the road, they heard a voice shouting:
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!”
Mr. Martin stopped the car.
“It’s Constable Juke!” said Mrs. Martin, looking around. “He is wavingat us. I guess he wants to speak to us.”
“Oh, maybe he’s found the burglars and got back Miss Ransom’s queerbox!” exclaimed Ted.
“And maybe he’s found Skyrocket!” echoed Jan.
Hurrying along the road, while the Curlytops waited for him in theautomobile, came Constable Juke. What could he want?
The Curlytops at Silver Lake; Or, On the Water with Uncle Ben Page 6