Ruth Fielding At Sunrise Farm; Or, What Became of the Raby Orphans

by Alice B. Emerson

  CHAPTER XI--TOBOGGANING IN JUNE

  The four horses climbed briskly after that and brought the yellow coachto an old stone gateway. At the end of the Caslon farm the stone wallhad begun, and now it stretched ahead, up over the rise, as far asanything was to be seen. Indeed, it seemed to melt right into the sky.

  Bobbins turned the leaders' noses in at the gateway. Already it wasshown that the new owner had begun to improve the estate. The drivewaywas an example of what road-making should be--entirely different from thehap-hazard work done on the country roads.

  There were beautiful pastures on either hand, all fenced in withwire--"horse high, bull strong, and pig tight," as Bobbins explained,proudly. There were horses in one pasture and a herd of cows in another.Beyond, sheep dotted a rocky bit of the hillside, and the thin, sweet"baa-as" of the lambs came to their ears as the coach rolled on.

  The visitors were delighted. Every minute they saw something to exclaimover. A pair of beautifully spotted coach dogs raced down the drive, andcavorted about the coach, eagerly welcoming them.

  When they finally topped the hill and came out upon the tableland onwhich the house and the main buildings of Sunrise Farm stood, theyreceived a welcome indeed.

  There was a big farm bell hung to a creaking arm in the water-towerbeside the old colonial dwelling. The instant the leaders' ears toppedthe rise, and while yet the coach was a long way off, several youngstersswung themselves on the bell-rope, and the alarm reverberated across thehills and valleys in no uncertain tone.

  Beside this, a cannon that was something bigger than a toy, "spoke"loudly on the front lawn, and a flag was run up the pole set here in aprominent place before the house. Mr. and Mrs. Steele stood on the broadveranda, between the main pillars, to receive them, and when the coachdrew up with a flourish, the horde of younger Steeles--Madge's and Bob'sbrothers and sisters, whom the big sister called "steel filings"--chargedaround from the bell-tower. There were four or five of the youngerchildren, all seemingly about of an age, and they made as much confusionas an army.

  "Welcome to Sunrise, girls and boys," said Mr. Steele, who was a short,brisk, chubby man, with an abrupt manner, but with an unmistakably kindheart, or he would not have sanctioned the descent of this horde ofyoung folk upon the place. "Welcome to Sunrise! We want you all to havea good time here. The place is open to you, and all Mother Steele begsis that you will not break your necks or get into any other serioustrouble."

  Mrs. Steele was much taller than her husband; it was positive that Madgeand Bobbins got their height from her side of the family. All theyounger Steele seemed chubby and round like their father.

  Everybody seemed so jolly and kind that it was quite surprising to seehow the faces of both Mother and Father Steele, as well as theirchildren, changed at the long lunch table, half an hour later, when thename of Caslon, the neighboring farmer, was mentioned.

  "What d'ye think they have been telling me at the stables, Pa?" criedBobbins, when there was a lull in the conversation so that he could beheard from his end of the table to his father's seat.

  "I can't say. What?" responded Mr. Steele.

  "About those Caslons. What do you suppose they're going to do now?"

  "Ha!" exclaimed the gentleman, his face darkening. "Nothing you haveheard could surprise me."

  "I bet this does," chuckled Bob. "They are going to take a whole raft offresh air kids to board. What do you know about that? Little ragamuffinsfrom some school, or asylum, or hospital, or something. Won't they makea mess all over this hill?"

  "Ha! he's done that to spite me," exclaimed Mr. Steele. "But I'll postmy line next to his, and if those young ones trespass, I'll see what mylawyer in Darrowtown can do about it."

  "It shows what kind of people those Caslons are," said Mrs. Steele, witha sigh. "Of course, they know such a crowd of children will be veryannoying to the neighbors."

  "And we're the only neighbors," added Bob.

  "Seems to me," said Madge, slowly, "that I have heard the Caslons always_do_ take a bunch of fresh air children in the summer."

  "Oh, I fancy he is doing it this year just to spite us," said herfather, shortly. "But I'll show him----"

  He became gloomy, and a cloud seemed to fall upon the whole table forthe remainder of the meal. It was evident that nothing the neighboringfarmer could do would be looked upon with favorable eyes by the Steeles.

  Ruth did not comment upon the situation, as some of the other girls didout of hearing of their hosts. It _did_ seem too bad that the Steelesshould drag this trouble with a neighbor into the public eye so much.

  The girl of the Red Mill could not help but remember the jovial lookingold farmer and his placid wife, and she felt sure they were not peoplewho would deliberately annoy their neighbors. Yet, the Steeles had takensuch a dislike to the Caslons it was evident they could see no good inthe old farmer and his wife.

  The Steeles had come directly from the city and had brought most oftheir servants with them from their city home. They had hired very fewlocal men, even on the farm. Therefore they were not at all in touchwith their neighbors, or with any of the "natives."

  Mr. Steele was a city man, through and through. He had not even lived inthe country when he was a boy. His own children knew much more aboutout-of-doors than he, or his wife.

  The host was a very successful business man, had made money of lateyears, and wished to spend some of his gains now in laying out thefinest "gentleman's farm" in that quarter of the State. To be balkedright at the start by what he called "a cowhide-booted old Rube" was across that Mr. Steele could not bear with composure.

  The young folks, naturally (save Ruth), were not much interested in thecontroversy between their hosts and the neighboring farmer. There wastoo much fun going on for both girls and boys to think of much beside.

  That afternoon they overran the house and stables, numbered the sheep,watched the tiny pigs and their mothers in the clover-lot, weredelighted with the colts that ran with their mothers in the paddock,played with the calves, and got acquainted in general with the livestockof Sunrise Farm.

  "Only we haven't goats," said Bobbins. "I've been trying to get fatherto buy some Angoras. Old Caslon has the best stock anywhere around, andfather says he won't try to buy of _him_. I'd like to send off for agood big billy-goat and turn him into Caslon's back pasture. I betthere'd be a fight, for Caslon's got a billy that'll chase you just assoon as he'd wink."

  "We'd better keep out of _that_ pasture, then," laughed one of thegirls.

  "Oh, father's forbidden us trespassing on Caslon's land. We'd like tocatch him on _our_ side of the line, that's all!"

  "Who--Mr. Caslon, or the billy?" asked Tom, chuckling.

  "Either one," said Bob, shaking his head threateningly.

  Everyone was in bed early that night, for all were tired; but the boyshad a whispered colloquy before they went to sleep in their own big roomat the top of the house, and Bob tied a cord to his big toe and weightedthe other end so that it would drop out of the window and hang justabout head-high above the grass.

  The first stableman up about the place ran over from the barns and gaveMaster Bob's cord a yank, according to instructions, and pretty nearlyhauled that ingenious chap out of bed before the eastern sky was evenstreaked with light.

  "Gee! have we got to get up now?" demanded Busy Izzy, aroused, as werethe other boys, by Bobbins dancing about the floor and rubbing his toe."Somebody has been foolin' you--it's nowheres near morning."

  "Bet a dog jumped up and bit that string you hung out of the window,"chuckled Tom Cameron.

  He looked at his watch and saw that it really was after four o'clock.

  "Come on, then!" Tom added, rolling Ralph Tingley out of bed. "We mustdo as we said, and surprise the girls."

  "Sh!" commanded Bobbins. "No noise. We want to slide out easy."

  With much muffled giggling and wrestling, they dressed and made theirway downstairs. The maids were just astir.

  The boys had something particula
r to do, and they went to work at itvery promptly, under Tom Cameron's leadership. Behind one of the fartherbarns was a sharp, but smooth slope, well sodded, which descended to theline of the farm that adjoined Mr. Caslon's. There, at the bottom, theland sloped up again to the stone wall that divided the two estates.

  It was a fine place for a slide in winter, somebody had said; but Tom'squick wit suggested that it would be a good place for a slide in summer,too! And the boys had laid their plans for this early morning jobaccordingly.

  Before breakfast they had built a dozen barrel-stave toboggans--each longenough to hold two persons, if it was so desired.

  Tom and Bobbins tried them first and showed the crowd how fine a slideit really was down the long, grassy bank. The most timid girl in thecrowd finally was convinced that it was safe, and for several hours, theshrieks of delight and laughter from that hillside proved that a sportout of season was all the better appreciated because it was novel.

  Over the broad stone wall was the pasture in which Caslon kept his flockof goats. Beautiful, long-haired creatures they were, but the solemn oldleader of the flock stamped his feet at the curious girls and boys wholooked over the wall, and shook his horns.

  Somewhere, along by the boundary of the two estates, Bob said there wasa spring, and Ruth and Helen slipped off by themselves to find it. Awild bit of brush pasture soon hid them from the view of their friends,and as they went over a small ridge and down into the deeper valley, thelaughter and shouting of those at the slide gradually died away behindthem.

  The girls had to cross the stone wall to get at the spring, and they didnot remember that in doing so they were "out of bounds." Bob had saidnothing about the spring being on the Caslon side of the boundary.

  Once beside the brook, Helen must needs explore farther. There werelovely trees and flowering bushes, and wild strawberries in a smallmeadow that lured the two girls on. They were a long way from the stonefence when, of a sudden, a crashing in the bushes behind them broughtboth Ruth and Helen to their feet.

  "My! what's that?" demanded Helen.

  "Sounds like some animal."

  Ruth's remark was not finished.

  "The goat! it's the old billy!" sang out Helen, and turned to run as thehorned head of the bewhiskered leader of the Angora herd came suddenlyinto view.