Ruth Fielding at Sunrise Farm/Chapter 19

Of course, somebody had to go to the Caslons and explain all this, and that duty devolved upon Ruth. Naturally, permission had to be sought of the farmer and his wife before the "fresh air kids" could be carried off bodily to Sunrise Farm.

It was decided that the ten dollars, of which Tom had taken charge, should be spent for extra bunting and lanterns to decorate with, and to buy little gifts for each of the fresh airs to find next his or her plate on the evening of the Fourth.

Therefore, Tom started again for Darrowtown right after breakfast, and Ruth rode with him in the high, two-wheeled cart.

Ruth had two important errands. One was in Darrowtown. But the first stop, at Mr. Caslon's, troubled her a little.

How would the farmer and his wife take the idea of the Steeles suddenly patronizing the fresh air children? Were the Caslons anything like Mr. Steele himself, in temperament, Ruth's errand would not be a pleasant one, she knew.

​The orphans ran out shrieking a welcome when Tom drove into the yard of the house under the hill. Where were the "terrible twins"? Had their sister really come to see them? Were Willie and Dickie coming back to the orphanage at all?

These and a dozen other questions were hurled at Ruth. Some of the bigger girls remembered Sadie Raby and asked a multitude of questions about her. So the girl of the Red Mill contented herself at first with trying to reply to all these queries.

Then Mrs. Caslon appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands of dish-water, and the old farmer himself came from the stables. Their friendly greeting and smiling faces opened the way for Ruth's task. She threw herself, figuratively speaking, into their arms.

"I know you are both just as kind as you can be," said Ruth, eagerly, "and you won't mind if I ask you to change your program a little to-day for the youngsters? They want to give them all a good time up at Sunrise Farm."

"Good land!" exclaimed Mrs. Caslon. "Not all of them?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Ruth, and she sketched briefly the idea of the celebration on the hill-top, including the presents she and Tom were to buy in Darrowtown for the kiddies.

"My soul and body!" exclaimed the farmer's ​wife. "That lady, Mis' Steele, don't know what she's runnin' into, does she, Father?"

"I reckon not," chuckled Mr. Caslon, wagging his head.

"But you won't mind? You'll let us have the children?' asked Ruth, anxiously.

"Why——" Mrs. Caslon looked at the old gentleman. But he was shaking all over with inward mirth.

"Do 'em good, Mother—do 'em good," he chuckled—and he did not mean the fresh air children, either. Ruth could see that.

"It'll be a mortal shame," began Mrs. Caslon, again, but once more her husband interrupted:

"Don't you fuss about other folks, Mother," he said, gravely. "It'll do'em good—mebbe—as I say. Nothin' like tryin' a game once by the . And I bet twelve little tykes like these 'uns keep that Steele man hoppin' for a while."

"But his poor wife——"

"Don't you worry, Mrs. Caslon," Ruth urged, but wishing to laugh, too. "We girls will take care of the kiddies, and Mrs. Steele sha'n't be bothered too much."

"Besides," drawled Mr. Caslon, "the woman's got a good sized family of her own—there's six or seven of 'em, ain't there?" he demanded of Ruth.

"Eight, sir."

​"But that don't make a speck of difference," the farmer's wife interposed. "She's always had plenty of maids and the like to look out for them. She don't know——"

"Let her learn a little, then," said Mr. Caslon, good naturedly enough. "It'll do both him and her good. And it'll give you a rest for a few hours, Mother.

"Besides," added Mr. Caslon, with another deep chuckle, "I hear Steele has been rantin' around about takin' the kids to board just for the sake of spitin' the neighbors. Now, if he thinks boardin' a dozen young'uns like these is all fun——"

"Don't be harsh, John," urged Mrs. Caslon.

"I ain't! I ain't!" cried the farmer, laughing again. "But they're bitin' off a big chaw, and it tickles me to see 'em do it."

It was arranged, therefore, that the orphans should be ready to go up to Sunrise Farm that afternoon. Then Ruth and Tom drove to Darrowtown. They had a fast horse, and got over the rough road at a very good pace.

Tom drove first around into the side street where Miss True Pettis's little cottage was situated.

"You dear child!" was the little spinster's greeting. "Are you having a nice time with your rich friends at Sunrise Farm? Tell me all about ​them—and the farm. Everybody in Darrowtown is that curious!"

Tom had driven away to attend to the errands he could do alone, so Ruth could afford the time to visit a bit with her old friend. The felon was better, and that fact being assured, Ruth considered it better to satisfy Miss Pettis regarding the Sunrise Farm folk before getting to the Raby orphans.

And that was the way to get to them, too. For the story of the tempest the day before, and the appearance of Sadie Raby, the runaway, and her reunion with the twins, naturally came into the tale Ruth had to tell—a tale that was eagerly listened to and as greatly enjoyed by the Darrowtown seamstress, as one can well imagine.

"Just like a book—or a movie," sighed Miss Pettis, shaking her head. "It's really wonderful, Ruthie Fielding, what's happened to you since you left us here in Darrowtown. But, I always said, this town is dead and nothing really happens here!"

"But it's lovely in Darrowtown," declared Ruth. "And just to think! Those Raby children lived here once."

"No?"

"Yes they did. Sadie was six or seven years old, I guess, when they left here. Tom Raby was her father. He was a mason's helper——"

​"Don't you tell me another thing about 'em!" cried Miss Pettis, starting up suddenly. "Now you remind me. I remember them well. Mis' Raby was as nice a woman as ever stepped—but weakly. And Tom Raby——"

"Why, how could I forget it? And after that man from Canady came to trace 'em, too, only three years ago. Didn't you ever hear of it, Ruth?"

"What man?" asked Ruth, quite bewildered now. "Are are you sure it was the same family? And who would want to trace them?"

"Lemme see. Listen!" commanded Miss Pettis. "You answer me about these poor children."

And under the seamstress's skillful questioning Ruth related every detail she knew about the Raby orphans—and Mr. Steele, in her presence, had cross-questioned Sadie exhaustively the evening before. The story lost nothing in Ruth's telling, for she had a retentive memory.

"My goodness me, Ruthie!" ejaculated the spinster, excitedly. "It's the same folks—sure. Why, do you know, they came from Quebec, and there's some property they've fell heir to—property from their mother's side—Oh, let me tell you! Funny you never heard us talkin' about that Canady lawyer while you was livin' here with me. My!"