CHAPTER IV
NIGHT IN A BARN
"Beach Junction! All off for the Junction!" called the train men,while the Bobbseys and Mrs. Manily hurried out to the small station,where numbers of carriages waited to take passengers to their cottageson the cliffs or by the sea.
"Sure we haven't forgotten anything?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, taking ahasty inventory of the hand baggage.
"Bert's got Snoop and I've got Downy," answered Freddie, as if theanimals were all that counted.
"And I've got my hatbox and flowers," added Nan.
"And I have my ferns," said little Flossie.
"I guess we're all here this time," Mr. Bobbsey finished, for nothingat all seemed to be missing.
It was almost nightfall, and the beautiful glow of an ocean sunsetrested over the place. At the rear of the station an aged stagedriver sat nodding on his turnout. The stage coach was an "oldtimer," and had carried many a merry party of sightseers through thesandy roads of Oceanport and Sunset Beach, while Hank, the driver,called out all spots of interest along the way. And Hank had a way ofmaking things interesting.
"Pike's Peak," he would call out for Cliff Hill.
"The Giant's Causeway," he would announce for Rocky Turn.
And so Hank was a very popular stage driver, and never had to look fortrade--it always came to him.
"That's our coach," said Mr. Bobbsey, espying Hank. "Hello there!Going to the beach?" he called to the sleepy driver.
"That's for you to say," replied Hank, straightening up.
"Could we get to Ocean Cliff--Minturn's place--before dark?" askedMr. Bobbsey, noticing how rickety the old stagecoach was.
"Can't promise," answered Hank, "but you can just pile in and we'lltry it."
There was no choice, so the party "piled" into the carryall.
"Isn't this fun?" remarked Mrs. Manily, taking her seat up under thefront window. "It's like going on a May ride."
"I'm afraid it will be a moonlight ride at this rate," laughedMr. Bobbsey, as the stagecoach started to rattle on. Freddie wantedto sit in front with Hank but Mrs. Bobbsey thought it safer inside,for, indeed, the ride was risky enough, inside or out. As theyjoggled on the noise of the wheels grew louder and louder, until ourfriends could only make themselves heard by screaming at each other.
"Night is coming," called Mrs. Bobbsey, and Dinah said: "Suah 'noughwe be out in de night dis time."
It seemed as if the old horses wanted to stand still, they moved soslowly, and the old wagon creaked and cracked until Hank, himself,turned round, looked in the window, and shouted:
"All right there?"
"Guess so," called back Mr. Bobbsey, "but we don't see the ocean yet."
"Oh, we'll get there," drawled Hank, lazily.
"We should have gone all the way by train," declared Mrs. Bobbsey, inalarm, as the stage gave one squeak louder than the others.
"Haven't you got any lanterns?" shouted Mr. Bobbsey to Hank, for itwas pitch-dark now.
"Never use one," answered the driver. "When it's good and dark themoon will come up, but we'll be there 'fore that. Get 'long there,Doll!" he called to one horse. "Go 'long, Kit!" he urged the other.
The horses did move a little faster at that, then suddenly somethingsnapped and the horses turned to one side.
"Whoa! Whoa!" called Hank, jerking on the reins. But it was too late!The stage coach was in a hole! Several screamed.
"Sit still!" called Mr. Bobbsey to the excited party. "It's only abroken shaft and the coach can't upset now."
Flossie began to cry. It was so dark and black in that hole.
Hank looked at the broken wagon.
"Well, we're done now," he announced, with as little concern as if theparty had been safely landed on Aunt Emily's piazza, instead of in ahole on the roadside.
"Do you mean to say you can't fix it up?" Mr. Bobbsey almost gasped.
"Not till I get the stage to the blacksmith's," replied Hank.
"Then, what are we going to do?" Mr. Bobbsey asked, impatiently.
"Well, there's an empty barn over there," Hank answered. "The bestthing you can do is pitch your tent there till I get back with anotherwagon."
"Barn!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey.
"How long will it take you to get a wagon?" demanded Mr. Bobbsey.
"Not long," said Hank, sprucing up a trifle. "You just get yourselvescomfortable in that there barn. I'll get the coach to one side, andtake a horse down to Sterritt's. He'll let me have a horse and awagon, and I'll be back as soon as I kin make it."
"There seems nothing else to do," Mr. Bobbsey said. "We may as wellmake the best of it."
"Why, yes," Mrs. Manily spoke up, "we can pretend we are having a barndance." And she smiled, faintly.
Nevertheless, it was not very jolly to make their way to the barn inthe dark. Dinah had to carry Freddie, he was so sleepy; Mrs. Manilytook good care of Flossie. But, of course, there was the duck and thecat, that could not be very safely left in the broken-down stagecoach.
"Say, papa!" Bert exclaimed, suddenly, "I saw an old lantern up underthe seat in that stagecoach. Maybe it has some oil in it. I'll goback and see."
"All right, son," replied the father, "we won't get far ahead of you."And while Bert made his way back to the wagon, the others bumped upand down through the fields that led to the vacant barn.
There was no house within sight. The barn belonged to a house up theroad that the owners had not moved into that season.
"I got one!" called Bert, running up from the road. "This lantern hasoil in, I can hear it rattle. Have you a match, pa?"
Mr. Bobbsey had, and when the lantern had been lighted, Bert marchedon ahead of the party, swinging it in real signal fashion.
"You ought to be a brakeman," Nan told her twin brother, at whichremark Bert swung his light above his head and made all sorts of funnyrailroad gestures.
The barn door was found unlocked, and excepting for the awfulstillness about, it was not really so bad to find refuge in a good,clean place like that, for outside it was very damp--almost wet withthe ocean spray. Mr. Bobbsey found seats for all, and with the bigcarriage doors swung open, the party sat and listened for every soundthat might mean the return of the stage driver.
"Come, Freddie chile," said Dinah, "put yer head down on Dinah's lap.She won't let nothin' tech you. An' youse kin jest go to sleep ifyouse a mind ter. I'se a-watchin' out."
The invitation was welcome to the tired little youngster, and it wasnot long before he had followed Dinah's invitation.
Next, Flossie cuddled up in Mrs. Manily's arms and stopped thinkingfor a while.
"It is awfully lonely," whispered Nan, to her mother, "I do wish thatman would come back."
"So do I," agreed the mother. "This is not a very comfortable hotel,especially as we are all tired out from a day's journey."
"What was that?" asked Bert, as a strange sound, like a howl, washeard.
"A dog," lightly answered the father.
"I don't think so," said Bert. "Listen!"
"Oh!" cried Flossie, starting up and clinging closer to Mrs. Manily,"I'm just scared to death!"
"Dinah, I want to go home," cried Freddie. "Take me right straighthome."
"Hush, children, you are safe," insisted their mother. "The stagedriver will be back in a few minutes."
"But what is that funny noise?" asked Freddie. "It ain't no cow, norno dog."
The queer "Whoo-oo-oo" came louder each time. It went up and downlike a scale, and "left a hole in the air," Bert declared.
"It's an owl!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, and she was right, for up inthe abandoned hay loft the queer old birds had found a quiet place,and had not been disturbed before by visitors.
"Let's get after them," proposed Bert, with lantern in hand.
"You would have a queer hunt," his father told him; "I guess you hadbetter not think of it. Hark! there's a wagon! I guess Hank iscoming back to us," and the welcome sound of wheels on the roadb
rought the party to their feet again.
"Hello there!" called Hank. "Here you are. Come along now, we'llmake it this time."
It did not take the Bobbseys long to reach the roadside and there theyfound Hank with a big farm wagon. The seats were made of boards, andthere was nothing to hold on to but the edge of the boards.
But the prospect of getting to Aunt Emily's at last made up for alltheir inconveniences, and when finally Hank pulled the reins again,our friends gave a sigh of relief.
The Bobbsey Twins at the Seashore Page 4