The Bobbsey Twins Megapack

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The Bobbsey Twins Megapack Page 19

by Laura Lee Hope


  “I’ll put a dollar on green,” called Mr. Bobbsey. “For the fresh-air fund.”

  “I’ll put one on orange,” called Uncle Daniel, “for the same charity.”

  Then the ladies all wanted to bet, but Bert said it was against the rules to allow betting.

  “We will take all the money you want to give us,” said Bert, “but we cannot allow betting on the races.”

  “All ready!” called the ringmaster, holding his revolver high in the air again.

  Bang went the gun!

  Off went the chariots!

  My, how those little goats did run!

  “Go it, green!”

  “Go it, orange!”

  Shout after shout greeted the riders as they urged their steeds around the ring.

  Suddenly Jack’s chariot crossed in front of August.

  “Foul!” called Bert, while Jack tried his best to get on his own side again.

  “Back! back!” yelled Jack to his horse (goat), but the little animal was too excited to obey.

  Finally fat August Stout, the funniest clown: dashed home first and won the race!

  “Hurrah for Nero!” called everybody. “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” shouted the boys long and loud.

  The circus was over!

  The money was counted, and there was exactly twenty-three dollars to be given the poor children in the Meadow Brook Fresh-Air Camp.

  Wasn’t that splendid? And to think everybody had such a good time too!

  Freddie and Roy were allowed to ride home in the goat wagons, and they tried to race along the way.

  A committee of five boys, Bert, Harry, Jack, Tom, and August, took the money over to the fresh-air camp the next day, and the managers said it was a very welcome gift, for new coats were needed for some sick children that were expected to come out from the city as soon as provision could be made for them.

  “Somebody dropped a two-dollar bill in the ticket box,” August told his companions. “Then there were the other two dollars from the race, besides some fifty-cent pieces I don’t know who gave. Of course we couldn’t make all that just on five-and ten-cent seats. And I took in two dollars on the peanuts besides.”

  “Well, we’re all satisfied,” said Harry. “And I guess everybody had a good time.”

  “Sure they did,” spoke up Tom, “and I hope Bert will come out here next year to help us with another big circus. They’re the best fun we ever had.”

  For some days every boy and girl in Meadow Brook talked about the circus, which had really been a greater success than even the boys themselves had expected.

  It was a warm afternoon quite late in July—one of those days that make a boy feel lazy and inclined to stretch himself.

  Bert and Harry were down back of the barn sitting on the fresh stack of hay that had just been piled up by John the stableman.

  “Did you ever try smoking?” Harry asked Bert suddenly, as if he had discovered something new and interesting.

  “No!” answered Bert in surprise. “Father wouldn’t let me smoke.”

  “Neither would pa,” said Harry, “but I suppose every fellow has to try it some time. I’ve seen them make cigarettes out of corn silk.”

  “I suppose that is not as bad as tobacco,” replied Bert.

  “No,” answered Harry, “there’s no harm in corn silk. Guess I’ll try to roll a cigarette.”

  At this Harry slid down off the hay and pulled from the fast withering corn some dry silk.

  With a good handful he went back to Bert.

  “I’ve got some soft paper,” he said, sitting down again and beginning the task.

  Bert watched with interest, but really had no idea of doing wrong.

  “There!” exclaimed Harry, giving the ends of the cigarette a twist. “How is that?”

  “Pretty good,” answered Bert; “looks like a real one.”

  “Let’s try it!” went on Harry.

  “Not in the hay,” exclaimed Bert; “you might drop the match.”

  At this Harry slid down along the side of the stack, and Bert followed.

  It did seem wrong as soon as Harry struck the match, but the cigarette being only corn silk made the boys forget all the warnings never to smoke.

  Harry gave a puff or two. Then he choked a little.

  “Kinder strong,” he spluttered. “You try it!”

  Bert put the cigarette in his mouth. He drew it once or twice, then quickly tossed it aside.

  “Ouch!” he exclaimed. “Tastes like old shoes!”

  At that time John came up and piled on some more hay. The boys of course had to act as if nothing had happened, and dared not look around to find the lighted cigarette even though they wanted to very much.

  “I hope it went out,” Bert said, as John walked away again.

  “If it didn’t it’s under the hay,” said Harry, somewhat alarmed. “But I guess it’s out.”

  “My, look at the storm coming!” Bert exclaimed suddenly. “We ought to help John with that load of hay.”

  “All right,” said Harry, “come along!” and with this the two boys started on a run down through the fields into the open meadow, where the dry hay was being packed up ready to put on the hay rick.

  John, of course, was very glad of the help, for it spoils hay to get it wet, so all three worked hard to load up before the heavy shower should come up.

  “All ready!” called John, “and no time to lose.”

  At this the boys jumped up and all started for the barn.

  “There’s smoke!” exclaimed Harry in terror as they neared the barn.

  “The barn is afire!” screamed John the next minute, almost falling from his seat on the wagon in his haste to get down.

  “Quick! quick!” yelled the boys, so frightened they could hardly move.

  “The hose!” called John, seeing flames now shoot out of the barn windows, “Get the hose, Harry; it’s in the coach house. I’ll get a bucket while you attach the hose.”

  By this time everybody was out from the house.

  “Oh, mercy!” cried Aunt Sarah. “Our whole barn will be burned.”

  Uncle Daniel was with John now, pouring water on the flames, that were gaining in spite of all efforts to put them out.

  “Where’s the firemen!” cried little Freddie, in real tears this time, for he, like all the others, was awfully frightened.

  The boys had a stream from the hose now, but this too was of no account, for the flames had shot up from the big pile of dry hay!

  “The firemen!” called Freddie again.

  “There are no firemen in the country, Freddie,” Nan told him. “We have to put the fire out ourselves.”

  “We can’t then,” he went on, “and all the other barns will burn too.”

  There was indeed great danger, for the flames were getting ahead rapidly.

  All this time the terrific thunderstorm was coming up.

  Clap after clap of thunder rolled over the hills and made the fire look more terrible against the black sky.

  “The rain!” exclaimed Uncle Daniel at last, “The rain may put it out; we can’t.”

  At this one terrific clap of thunder came. Then the downpour of rain. It came like a very deluge, and as it fell on the flames it sent out steam and smoke but quickly subdued the cracking and flashing of the fire.

  Everybody ran to the back porch now but John and Uncle Daniel. They went in the coach house at the side of the barn.

  “How could it have caught fire?” Aunt Sarah said. But Harry and Bert were both very pale, and never said a word.

  How heavily the rain did pour down, just like a cloudburst! And as it struck the fire even the smoke began to die out.

  “It’s going out!” exclaimed Harry. “Oh, I hope it keeps on raining!”

  Soon there was even no more smoke!

  “It’s out!” called John, a little later. “That was a lucky storm for us.”

  CHAPTER XVX

  The Flood

  The heavy downpour of
rain had ceased now, and everybody ran to the barn to see what damage the fire had done.

  “It almost caught my pigeon coop!” said Harry, as he examined the blackened beams in the barn near the wire cage his birds lived in.

  “The entire back of this barn will have to be rebuilt,” said Uncle Daniel. “John, are you sure you didn’t drop a match in the hay?”

  “Positive, sir!” answered John. “I never use a match while I’m working. Didn’t even have one in my clothes.”

  Bert whispered something to Harry. It was too much to have John blamed for their wrongdoing.

  “Father!” said Harry bravely, but with tears in his eyes. “It was our fault; we set the barn afire!”

  “What!” exclaimed Uncle Daniel in surprise. “You boys set the barn afire!”

  “Yes,” spoke up Bert. “It was mostly my fault. I threw the cigarette away and we couldn’t find it.”

  “Cigarette!” exclaimed Uncle Daniel. “What!—you boys smoking!”

  Both Bert and Harry started to cry. They were not used to being spoken to like that, and of course they realized how much it cost to put that nasty old cigarette in their mouths. Besides there might have been a great deal more damage if it hadn’t been for the rain.

  “Come with me!” Uncle Daniel said; “we must find out how all this happened,” and he led the unhappy boys into the coach house, where they all sat down on a bench.

  “Now, Harry, stop your crying, and tell me about it,” the father commanded.

  Harry tried to obey, but his tears choked him. Bert was the first able to speak.

  “Oh, Uncle Daniel,” he cried, “we really didn’t mean to smoke. We only rolled up some corn silk in a piece of paper and—”

  His tears choked back his words now, and Harry said:

  “It was I who rolled the cigarette, father, and it was awful, it almost made us sick. Then when Bert put it in his mouth—”

  “I threw it away and it must have fallen in the hay!” said Bert.

  “Why didn’t you come and tell me?” questioned Uncle Daniel severely. “It was bad enough to do all that, but worse to take the risk of fire!”

  “Well, the storm was coming,” Harry answered, “and we went to help John with the hay!”

  “Now, boys,” said Uncle Daniel, “this has been a very serious lesson to you and one which you will remember all your lives. I need not punish you any more; you have suffered enough from the fright of that awful fire. And if it hadn’t been that you were always pretty good boys the Lord would not have sent that shower to save us as He did.”

  “I bet I’ll never smoke again as long as I live,” said Harry determinedly through his tears.

  “Neither will I,” Bert said firmly, “and I’ll try to make other fellows stop if I can.”

  “All right,” answered Uncle Daniel, “I’m sure you mean that, and don’t forget to thank the Lord tonight for helping us as He did. And you must ask His pardon too for doing wrong, remember.”

  This ended the boys’ confession, but they could not stop crying for a long time, and Bert felt so sick and nervous he went to bed without eating any supper. Uncle Daniel gave orders that no one should refer to the fire or cause the boys any more worry, as they were both really very nervous from the shock, so that beyond helping John clear things up in the burned end of the barn, there was no further reference to the boys’ accident.

  Next day it rained very hard—in fact, it was one of those storms that come every summer and do not seem to know when to go away.

  “The gate at the sawmill dam is closed,” Harry told Bert, “and if the pond gets any higher they won’t be able to cross the plank to open up the gate and let the water out.”

  “That would be dangerous, wouldn’t it?” Bert asked.

  “Very,” replied Harry. “Peter Burns’ house is right in line with the dam at the other side of the plank, and if the dam should ever burst that house would be swept away.”

  “And the barn and henhouse are nearer the pond than the house even!” Bert remarked. “It would be an awful loss for a poor man.”

  “Let’s go up in the attic and see how high the pond is,” Harry suggested.

  From the top of the house the boys could see across the high pond bank into the water.

  “My!” Bert exclaimed; “isn’t it awful!”

  “Yes, it is,” Harry replied. “You see, all the streams from the mountains wash into this pond, and in a big storm like this it gets very dangerous.”

  “Why do they build houses in such dangerous places?” asked Bert.

  “Oh, you see, that house of Burns’ has stood there maybe one hundred years—long before any dam was put in the pond to work the sawmill,” said Harry.

  “Oh, that’s it—is it?” Bert replied. “I thought it was odd to put houses right in line with a dam.”

  “See how strong the water is getting,” went on Harry. “Look at that big log floating down.”

  “It will be fun when it stops raining,” remarked Bert. “We can sail things almost anywhere.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen the pond come right up across the road down at Hopkins’ once,” Harry told his cousins. “That was when it had rained a whole week without stopping.”

  “Say,” called Dinah from the foot of the stairs. “You boys up there better get your boots on and look after that Frisky cow. John’s gone off somewhere, and dat calf am crying herself sick out in de barn. Maybe she a-gettin’ drownded.”

  It did not take long to get their boots and overcoats on and hurry out to the barn.

  “Sure enough, she is getting drownded!” exclaimed Harry, as they saw the poor little calf standing in water up to her knees.

  “Where is all the water coming from?” asked Bert.

  “I don’t know,” Harry answered, “unless the tank upstairs has overflowed.”

  The boys ran up the stairs and found, just as Harry thought, the tank that supplied all the barns with water, and which also gave a supply for the house to be used on the lawn, was flowing over.

  “Is there any way of letting it out?” asked Bert, quite frightened.

  “We can open all the faucets, besides dipping out pailfuls,” said Harry. “But I wish John would get back.”

  Harry ran to get the big water pail, while Bert turned on the faucet at the outside of the barn, the one in the horse stable, another that supplied water for the chickens and ducks, and the one John used for carriage washing. Frisky, of course, had been moved to a dry corner and now stopped crying.

  Harry gathered all the large water pails he could carry, and hurried up to the tank followed by Bert.

  “It has gone down already,” said Harry, as they looked into the tank again. “But we had better dip out all we can, to make sure. Lucky we found it as soon as we did, for there are all father’s tools on the bench right under the tank, besides all those new paints that have just been opened.”

  “Here comes John now,” said Bert, as he heard the barn door open and shut again.

  “Come up here, John!” called Harry; “we’re almost flooded out. The tank overflowed.”

  “It did!” exclaimed John. “Gracious! I hope nothing is spoiled.”

  “Oh, we just caught it in tine,” Harry told him, “and we opened up the faucets as soon as we could. Then we began dipping out, to make sure.”

  “You were smart boys this time,” John told him, “and saved a lot of trouble by being so prompt to act. There is going to be a flood sure. The dam is roaring like Niagara, and they haven’t opened the gates yet.”

  “I’m glad we are up high,” Bert remarked, for he had never seen a country flood before, and was a good deal frightened at the prospect.

  “Hey, John!” called Freddie from the back porch. “Hey, bring me some more nails, will you? I need them for my ark.”

  “He’s building an ark!” laughed Bert. “Guess we’ll need it all right if this keeps on.”

  Harry got some nails from his toolbox in the carriage house, and t
he boys went up to the house.

  There they found Freddie on the hard cement cellar floor, nailing boards together as fast as his little hammer could drive the nails in.

  “How’s that?” asked the little fellow, standing up the raft.

  “I guess that will float,” said Bert, “and when it stops raining we can try it.”

  “I’m going to make a regular ark like the play one I’ve got home,” said Freddie, “only mine will be a big one with room for us all, besides Frisky, Snoop, Fluffy, and—”

  “Old Bill. We’ll need a horse to tow us back when the water goes down,” laughed Harry.

  Freddie went on working as seriously as if he really expected to be a little Noah and save all the people from the flood.

  “My, but it does rain!” exclaimed somebody on the front porch.

  It was Uncle Daniel, who had just returned from the village, soaking wet.

  “They can’t open the gates,” Uncle Daniel told Aunt Sarah. “They let the water get so high the planks sailed away and now they can’t get near the dam.”

  “That is bad for the poor Burns family!” exclaimed Aunt Sarah. “I had better have John drive me down and see if they need anything.”

  “I stopped in on my way up,” Uncle Daniel told her, “and they were about ready to move out. We’ll bring them up here if it gets any worse.”

  “Why don’t they go to the gates in a boat?” asked Bert.

  “Why, my dear boy,” said Uncle Daniel, “anybody who would go near that torrent in a boat might as well jump off the bridge. The falls are twenty-five feet high, and the water seems to have built them up twice that. If one went within two hundred feet of the dam the surging water would carry him over.”

  “You see,” said Harry, explaining it further, “there is like a window in the falls, a long low door. When this is opened the water is drawn down under and does not all have to go over the falls.”

  “And if there is too much pressure against the stone wall that makes the dam, the wall may be carried away. That’s what we call the dam bursting,” finished Uncle Daniel.

  All this was very interesting to Bert, who could not help being frightened at the situation.

 

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