The Castaways of Pete's Patch

by Carroll Watson Rankin

  CHAPTER XXI

  Dave Makes Himself Useful

  SHOUTS from the lake now claimed the campers' attention. CaptainBerry's obstinate engine had suddenly decided to work and was nowmaking up for lost time by refusing to stop. The captain, as near shoreas he dared approach, was spinning round and round in circles. Eachtime he neared the land he shouted lustily.

  "He wants something," interpreted Mr. Black, rising from the table."Marjory--where is Marjory with her sharp ears?"

  "Crying in our tent," replied Mabel, with a vindictive glance towardAunty Jane. "If she wasn't a _good_ child, she'd climb a tree and staythere until some folks----"

  "There, there," squelched Doctor Bennett, "we mustn't criticise ourelders. Let's see what that crazy boat is doing."

  "She's stopped," said Mr. Black, "and Dave's swimming ashore--afterthe boats, I guess. Let's help him."

  Presently all sorts of boxes, bundles, and baskets were safely landed;all the campers and most of the visitors helping the good work along.Even Marjory, her face swollen and disfigured from much weeping,assisted a little.

  "Hullo!" cried Dave, catching sight of the sorrowful countenance. "W'atyou ees cry for, li'le gal?"

  Tactful Jean, seeing that Marjory was unable to speak, replied for her.

  "Her aunt--she hasn't any mother, you know--is going to take her home.She doesn't want to go; but she can't help herself."

  "Dat's too bad," sympathized Dave. "W'ich of dose ees hees aunt?"

  Jean pointed out Aunty Jane--a middle-aged, unattractive lady, whosat bolt upright when everybody else loafed in comfortable, camp-yattitudes.

  "Yas, Ah'm see dose old gal biffore," admitted disrespectful Dave,eying Aunty Jane's stiff, unconscious back reflectively. "Ah'm not lak'dose kind of lady ver' moch--she ees tole me for take som' _bat'_."

  Even Marjory smiled forlornly at the idea of Dave's taking a bath. Butsmiles did not last long that day. In spite of all the good thingsthat came in baskets and bundles, in spite of a big box of candy thatSaunders had included for Mabel and Henrietta, and inscribed "With theGame Warden's Compliments," the sympathetic little girls were veryunhappy at the thought of losing Marjory. They had _always_ playedtogether; and now they were absolutely certain that they _couldn't_have good times during the rest of their stay with no Marjory to helpenjoy them. As for Marjory, that small maiden was shedding so manytears that Mabel feared there would soon be nothing left of her unhappylittle friend. And by afternoon even the grown-ups were thoroughlyvexed by Aunty Jane's obstinacy.

  "Oh, we all know," said Mrs. Bennett to Mrs. Tucker, who sat under atree, letting down a skirt for Bettie, "that Aunty Jane _means_ well;she'd work her fingers to the bone for Marjory; but a _real_ motherwouldn't be a--a----"

  "Vinegar cruet," supplied Doctor Bennett.

  "She has completely spoiled the day," declared Mrs. Tucker, "for allthose children; and we _meant_ to give them a pleasant surprise."

  "Poor Aunty Jane _couldn't_ be a pleasant surprise," protestedMrs. Bennett, "but we mustn't blame her--_she_ didn't pick out herunfortunate disposition. We'll just have to be extra cheerful ourselvesthis afternoon to make up for her unpleasantness."

  But no one succeeded in being "extra cheerful," when there was so muchgloom to dispel; to the children, especially, the day seemed absolutelyspoiled in spite of much unexpected and rather amusing sympathy fromDave, who plainly considered going home with Aunty Jane an unmixedcalamity.

  "I guess," said Jean, shrewdly, "that Dave _likes_ to have us here."

  "And why not?" demanded Henrietta. "We give him all sorts of goodthings to eat and Mr. Black pays him besides, for all the work hedoesn't do. He's just bought himself a nice new blanket and a fine bigquilt--I noticed them on the beach. Why! Something's happening. Let'ssee what it is."

  Dave, with a large bundle on his shoulder, was crossing the clearing,in the direction of his wigwam. Aunty Jane, pointing at the bundle andscolding loudly, was scurrying after him. Mrs. Bennett and Mrs. Mapeswere scurrying after _her_. Mrs. Slater, under a tree with Mrs. Tucker,seemed greatly amused; for this bright old lady possessed a strongsense of humor.

  "What _is_ it, Granny?" demanded Henrietta, pausing at sight of thedainty little grandmother's smiling countenance. "Is she trying againto make Dave take a bath?"

  "No, Honey," laughed Mrs. Slater. "She thinks she recognizes thatquilt--she missed one off her clothesline several nights ago."

  Dave, seeing that Aunty Jane was not to be shaken off, stopped, untiedhis bundle, separated the quilt from the other articles, and offered itto the pursuing lady.

  "Yas," grinned Dave, "Ah'm t'ink dose queelt she ees yours, maybe.She's grow on som' clothesline jus' biffore de back part of dose houseof madame hon Lakeveele. Me, Ah'm need som' more queelt--som' tam' Ah'mgot company. Mus' feex noddaire bed, Ah'm t'ink."

  "Well," replied Aunty Jane, tartly, as she reached for the guilt,"you'd better think again. Give it to me this instant."

  Then, catching a whiff of the aroma that was ever a part of Dave, AuntyJane fairly hurled the restored comforter at the grinning thief.

  "For goodness' sake!" she gasped. "_Take_ it, you filthy Indian. Thereisn't water enough in Lake Superior to get the smell out of anythingyou've touched."

  "Yas," returned Dave, blandly accepting the quilt, "Ah'm sleep hon dosequeelt hall de way from Lakeveele. Night biffore, halso. Ah'm mochobliged for dose present, madame. Dose ver' good queelt, Ah'm t'ink."

  "A great deal too good for you, you filthy beast."

  Dave's ill-kept teeth still gleamed in his wide, amiable smile; buthis narrowed black eyes suddenly glittered in a cold, snaky way thatstarted an unpleasant chill down Aunty Jane's spine.

  "That wicked Indian," she said afterwards, "thanked me and looked as ifhe'd like to murder me, all in the same breath."

  "Indians," mused Doctor Tucker, "are said to be revengeful."

  Perhaps, with so many little girls sorrowful on Marjory's account,the sky hadn't the heart to keep on smiling. At any rate, a full hourearlier than the visitors had expected to leave, their launch-man waspointing pessimistically toward gathering clouds--no one else hadnoticed them.

  "If you folks want to get home before it rains," said he, "you'd betterbe climbing aboard--less'n you want to stay here all night."

  "Mercy!" cried Aunty Jane, springing to her feet, "I wouldn't stay fora million dollars."

  Mrs. Slater was too polite to _say_ that she wouldn't either; but she,too, rose rather hastily to look about for scattered belongings.

  Dave assisted everybody with wonderful alacrity. He was here, there,and everywhere. The girls assisted, too--perhaps that was why it tookso long to find all Marjory's widely dispersed garments. They werestill at this task after most of the mothers had climbed aboard thelaunch. Marjory, by this time fairly helpless with grief, sat on a logand wept; while Aunty Jane, on her knees under a nearby tree, attemptedto roll the accumulated garments into a neat bundle.

  Somehow--nobody knew exactly how--Terrible Tim, the porcupine, madehis presence felt just at this busy moment. One instant the object inAunty Jane's grasp was an innocent bundle of clothing. The next, thehorrified lady was clutching an astonished and most dreadfully pricklyporcupine; for Timothy, propelled by some mysterious force, had landedsquarely in her arms.

  Instantly the air was rent with shrieks. No one noticed the extrashriek or two that Marjory added to the chorus as a dark, sinewy armshot forth and suddenly grasped her. No one saw lithe Dave draw thefrightened, dazed little girl into the thicket, toss her across hisshoulder, and flee, by a roundabout trail that no civilized foot couldhave found, toward his own wigwam.

  "Be still," commanded Dave, clapping his hand gently but effectuallyover Marjory's mouth. "Don't be scare--Ah'm good frien' to you, li'legal. Now ron, ron fast hon your own leg."

  Astonishment prevented further desire to shriek, for, near the doorwayof Dave's wigwam and washing a grimy pan with a grimier rag, stood adark but decidedly attractive young wom
an. And down in the dirt ather feet, as Marjory had seen her many times previously, groveled theDandelion Cottage baby, the unforgettable Rosa Marie.

  Marjory, at sight of the funny little Indian baby that Mabel had onceadopted, almost forgot her own troubles.

  "Ma sistaire," explained Dave, pointing toward the woman. "Hees nameees Mahjigeezigoqua. Can you say dose name?"

  "Mar-gee-gee-ze-go-qua," repeated Marjory, correctly making the firstg soft, the second hard. "But how did you get them here? We didn't seethem leave the boat."

  "Ah'm pack dem wit' dose proveesion," laughed Dave. "Ah'm poot dose twohon shore behin' som' point, w'ile all dose peop' ees too busy for lookat Dave. Ma sistaire ees come for pick som' berry. Hey, you know dosekid? W'y you no talk, Rosa Marie? Here ees som' frien' for you."

  Then Dave spoke rapidly in some strange tongue to his sister,concluding in his broken English, as he turned to go:

  "Now Ah'm go for help dose ol' Aunt hon top dose boat. You stay here."

  Nevertheless, conscientious Marjory started to follow him; but RosaMarie's mother, stepping quickly into the narrow pathway, gently butunmistakably detained her.

  "You talk som' leetle t'ing to Rosa Marie--she ees remembaire you, eeseet not, Rosa? See, how he ees grow som' hon herself, dose so fat Rosa."

  So Marjory, seeing no way of immediate escape with the attractive youngIndian woman firmly blocking the pathway, renewed her acquaintance withRosa Marie, who apparently was as stolid and as unemotional as ever.

  "Hees fadaire lak' dat," explained Mahjigeezigoqua. "He t'ink hon heesinside honly. No talk, no mak' som' smile hon her face, dose man."

  If Rosa Marie _did_ any thinking, it is certain that the process wenton "inside only," for if ever there was a wooden little Indian it wasRosa Marie. But by dint of hard work, Marjory finally extracted asmile. Then Rosa Marie, groping under her brief skirts, produced thevery dirtiest and most disreputable doll that Marjory had ever beheld.

  "Ma-_bel_," said Rosa Marie. "Ma-_bel_."

  "She ees name for Mees Ma_bel_," explained the Indian baby's mother.

  "Mabel ought to feel flattered," giggled Marjory. "I'll tell her abouther namesake. But mercy! I must go back----"

  "Wait," said Dave's sister, lightly clasping her slender brown fingersabout Marjory's wrist. "Ah show you how to catch som' chipmunk."

  And Marjory, realizing that she was a prisoner, stayed where she was.