Chapter III: Part 3

She was sitting on a big rock talking quietly in an undertone to Polly, when with a whoop and a hallo two boys came vaulting over the fence and rushed toward her. For a moment Jessie was so startled that she could give only little shrieks, but these soon changed to a squeal of delight when she discovered the two intruders to be her brothers, Max and Walter. “Oh! oh!” she cried. “Where did you come from, and how do you happen to be home to-day?”

“Why, it is just a piece of luck for us,” said Max catching her up and kissing her. “One of the boys, Carl Potter, is ill with something, the doctor doesn’t know just what yet, and so he thought we boys had better come home for a few days till he finds out whether it is diphtheria or not. Of course I don’t mean it is luck for old Carl, but it gives us a holiday.”

“I hope it isn’t diphtheria,” said Jessie sympathetically, “though it is nice to have you home; it does seem so quiet without you. I have a thousand things to tell you.”

“Fire away,” said Max.

“Well, I don’t go to the Hill School any more, but I have lessons with Adele--she lives in the yellow house, you know. I know some French. _Bon jour, monsieur. Comme portez vous?_”

“Pshaw!” interrupted Walter. “I can beat that with Latin.”

“Let’s hear you,” said Jessie.

“Stop your fooling,” put in Max. “Don’t be such a blower, Walter. I know just about how much Latin you know. Never mind him, Jess, go on.”

“I have begun music, too,” Jessie turned to her elder brother, “and some day I shall have a piano when mother can save enough butter and eggs to get me one.”

“That will be fine,” said Max encouragingly.

“Then you don’t see old Ezra any more,” said Walter, “and can’t tell us anything about the trains and the engines.”

“No.” Jessie shook her head. “I haven’t been to see him. He had rheumatism, and I fell on the track one day; that’s why I stopped going to school. There is a cross man in Ezra’s place and I don’t like him.”

“I say, that’s too bad,” said Max. “Old Ezra is always so good-natured about letting you flag trains and things.”

“I’ve got a crow,” suddenly exclaimed Jessie, “and his name is Eb. That’s short for Ebony. He doesn’t talk yet, but he is going to, Sam says. I think he must be up in the barn. Come, and I’ll show him to you. I have a new friend, too. Her name is Adele Pauline Falaise Hallett, and she lives in the yellow house.”

“Mother wrote to us that the yellow house was taken,” said Walter. “I’m sorry, for now we fellows can’t go there and play in that empty barn like we used to.”

“I thought Effie Hinsdale was your best friend,” said Max to his sister.

“Effie is a friend, of course, but she lives across the railroad, and I can’t go to see her unless some one goes with me. Besides, she has a new friend, too; a girl named Anna Sharp that has come to the neighborhood, so Effie don’t mind being second best. She has a gray kitten that is to be mine when it is big enough.”

“Girls are always so crazy about cats and kittens,” said Walter scornfully. “I’d much rather have the crow.”

“Well, you can’t have him. Sam brought him to me,” returned Jessie a little sharply. Boys were entirely too fond of making slighting remarks about girls, she thought.

“Oh, keep your old crow,” returned Walter. “No doubt you’ll be glad enough to get rid of him some day.”

“Why?” asked Jessie.

“Wait and see,” replied Walter mysteriously. “Say, Max, let’s go see old Ezra. Maybe he is all right now, and I want to know about the trains. We’ll see enough of the old crow, and it is a good time to go to Ezra’s.”

“I want to go, too,” said Jessie.

“Well, you can’t,” returned Walter. “We don’t want girls tagging everywhere we go.”

“Oh, let her come,” put in Max. “You might be a little more decent to her the first day you get home. You can come, Jess.” Max was the eldest and Walter generally accepted his lead, so Jessie put her hand confidingly in her big brother’s and they set out. She thought Walter was very disagreeable to speak to her as he did when he had been separated from her all these weeks, and she took pains not to address a word to him on the way. She chatted to Max, however talking of the things she knew would interest him: the change in the schedule, how 589 was very late one day, and how she had flagged a train one afternoon, how 248 had a hot box one morning so it had to stop on a siding. When Walter put eager questions to her she simply gave him a dignified stare and went on talking to Max. Her triumph was complete when they arrived at the crossing to find that Ezra was back again at his post and that his best greeting was for the little girl.

“Well, well, well,” he exclaimed, “here you are at last. I certainly have missed you, little girl. Not going to school any more? I was afraid you might be sick. Been watching for ye every day since I got over my rheumatiz. When you going to start again? Hallo, boys.” He gave a nod to each, but it was plain to see that it was Jessie who had the warmest welcome.

“I’ve stopped going to school,” Jessie told him. “You weren’t here, you know, Ezra, so father and mother were afraid to have me cross the track. I tripped and fell one day when the train was coming.”

“Pshaw!” exclaimed Ezra. “Sykes never told me of that. I was in such misery I couldn’t think about much else but my pains for a while. You don’t say you ain’t going back at all?”

“Not this winter,” Jessie told him. “I am studying with Adele Hallett at the yellow house.”

“They’re new folks, ain’t they? Well, I certainly am sorry to lose the sight of ye every day. It is too bad Sykes had to take my place or ye might be mounting the hill every morning just the same as usual. Father knew I’d look out for ye, didn’t he?”

“Oh, yes. He said as long as you were there he didn’t have any fear, even if the trains were changed. But after I fell that day when the train was coming, mother said she would never feel easy again.”

“Too bad, too bad. I am sorry.” Ezra took off his cap and wiped his bald head with a red handkerchief. He was a little wrinkled-faced old man with mild blue eyes. He wore a little fringe of beard under his chin, and his pleasant mouth always widened to a smile for his friends. “Right warm day for October, ain’t it?” he said pulling up his stool which stood by the door of the little house. “Wish I had more chairs to offer ye. Guess ladies will have to come first.” He waved Jessie to the stool.

“Oh, no.” Jessie refused the proffered seat. “We’d rather you’d sit there, Ezra. The boys and I can do just as well with these railroad ties that are piled up here. Has 589 gone by yet?”

Ezra took out his watch. “She’s due in just five minutes. I thought I heard her whistling for Boyds a while ago. She’s on time to-day.”

“May I hold the flag?” said Jessie eagerly. “It has been such a long time since I did.”

“To be sure ye may,” returned Ezra, taking the flag from where it stood leaning against the door. “Yes, I thought so; she’s whistling for the cut.”

So far Jessie had monopolized the conversation and now Walter spoke up. “Have they put on any new engines, Ezra?”

He shook his head. “No, Leander still runs old 61 and keeps her shining.”

“Any accidents?” asked Max.

“Glad to say ther hain’t. Come near being one down by Millersville the other day.”

“Tell us about it.”

“Have to wait till 589 has went by. Here, honey,” he turned to Jessie. “Get up and be all ready. She’ll whistle in a minute for our crossing.”

Jessie took her place on the stool set for her, flag in hand, Ezra standing close by, and presently there was a shrill whistle and next the train flew by.

“It is so exciting,” said Jessie turning a beaming face to her brothers.

“Humph!” exclaimed Walter in rather a dissatisfied way. He did not like it that Jessie should be having all the fun. “What about the accident?” he said turning to Ezra.

“There wasn’t none.”

“Well, I mean the one that nearly was.”

Ezra launched forth into an account of how the freight train from the west was on the track and a special was behind her. Somehow Bill Downs didn’t get the orders clear and backed into a siding just in time to avoid a crash. “Reversed, sir,” said Ezra. “Heard the special whistle at the cut and put on steam so he reached the siding in time to back. If he’d been a second later all would have been up.”

The children listened attentively. Bill Downs was a familiar figure to them, and his engine an old acquaintance, so his escape was of momentous interest.

After a little more railroad gossip the boys concluded it was time to return, as the sun was setting and the short afternoon was nearly over. “Come again, come again,” said Ezra, his eyes on Jessie who waved her hand to him till a turn in the road hid him from sight.

“I wish I had taken him some apples,” she said. “His trees have hardly any on them this year, and he is so fond of them.”

“We’ll take some to him to-morrow,” said Walter importantly. “You needn’t bother.”

“I thought of it first,” said Jessie, not liking to have her ideas taken possession of in this style.

“That makes no difference,” returned Walter. “The few you could carry wouldn’t do much good. Max and I can take a big basketful.”

Jessie did not answer, but she determined to carry out her plan if she could. If going away to school made Walter like this she didn’t think it was doing him much good. The boys left her at the first gate for they caught sight of their father in a field near by, and joined him, so Jessie went up to the house alone. She sought her mother immediately. “Mother,” she said, “I wish you would send Walter to another school.”

“Why, my dear,” returned Mrs. Loomis, looking up with a smile.

“Because he’s so--so--he has such a contemptibleness for girls since he’s been away. He used not to care when I wanted to go with him and Max, and now he is at home again he just wants to put me down all the time. I said I wanted to take some apples to Ezra, and he says he is going to. I thought of it first, mother, and Ezra has been so good to me. Couldn’t you let Sam go with me to-morrow morning, and carry a big basketful, bigger than Walter and Max could carry?”

Mrs. Loomis was thoughtful for a moment. She realized that Walter had no right to set aside Jessie’s little plan, so she said, “I am afraid Sam cannot be spared, but I will tell you what can be done. I have to go to Mrs. Traill’s to-morrow morning, and you could go as far as the crossing with me. We can carry a big basket of apples in the phaeton and leave them for Ezra, then you can go on to your lessons from there.”

“Oh, lovely!” cried Jessie. “You always do think of just the right thing, mother. Will you tell Walter we are going to take the apples?”

“Yes, and I think it is right that you should be the one to go with them, for we appreciate very much his kindness to you.”

No more was said then, but at the supper table Mrs. Loomis told her husband what had been arranged and asked him to select a lot of their finest apples for the basket. Jessie gave Walter a triumphant look across the table. He answered by making a mouth at her, but she did not care as she had her mother on her side.

“Sneaky thing,” whispered Walter as she passed him after supper.

“Sneaky yourself,” returned Jessie. “I told mother how horrid you were.”

“Tattletale,” returned Walter. “Just like a girl.”

This time Jessie had no words except the expressive exclamation “Pff!” given with a most contemptuous toss of the head.

_CHAPTER VIII_

_Dapple Gray_

_CHAPTER VIII_

_Dapple Gray_

The rest of the time that the boys were at home Jessie did not see much of them. She found so many things to interest her at the yellow house, that she enjoyed the novelty of it, and moreover, when she was there she was free from Walter’s teasing, so she spent most of her time with Adele, to the latter’s delight.

The afternoon of the day when the apples were taken to Ezra, the two little girls sought their playground by the brook, but Max and Walter discovered them, and as they did not want their secrets known, they quickly covered up the grotto and beat a hasty retreat across the brook. “I don’t mind Max so much,” Jessie explained, “though even he teases sometimes, but Walter is such a worry when he sets out to be, and if he knew about Playmate Polly and Peter Pan’s grotto he would be sure to do something to them just to pay me back for taking the apples. So we will play in your garden or the summer-house. I will take Charity and you can get one of your dolls.”

“The back porch is a good place,” returned Adele. “I am sorry your brothers aren’t nice and I am glad I haven’t any.”

“But they are nice,” returned Jessie on the defensive. “They are very nice. All boys tease and Max was lovely the other day when I wanted to go with them. He is older than Walter. I suppose that is the reason. Since Walter has been going to boarding-school he thinks himself so smart.”

The two little girls trudged up the hill toward the yellow house and as they entered the garden they heard some one calling, “Adele! Adele! where are you?”

“That’s Aunt Betty,” said Adele. “I wonder what she wants.”

“Let’s go see,” returned Jessie.

They ran around the corner of the house. Miss Betty and Miss Eloise were both on the front porch. By the steps was standing a little gray pony harnessed to a small pony cart. “Oh, dear, company, I suppose,” said Adele disgustedly. “I wish we’d stayed away. I suppose now I shall have to be kissed and called a sweet child.”

“I wonder who it is,” said Jessie more curious. “That turnout does not belong to any one around here. I know just what every one drives. Effie Hinsdale’s mother has a white horse; the minister’s wife drives a sorrel; Mrs. Traill has two black horses and----”

But she went no further for Miss Betty had seen the two children and was calling out, “Come here, dears, such a lovely surprise for you! Whose do you think that is, Adele?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. It isn’t the cousins from the city, is it, Aunt Bet?” said Adele.

“No.” Miss Betty shook her head. “It belongs to the cousin of the cousins from the city.”

Adele looked bewildered. “Who is that?”

Miss Betty laughed. “Who is your cousins’ cousin? Don’t you know?”

“Aunt Betty, you don’t mean me!” cried Adele. “It isn’t mine. It couldn’t possibly be.”

“That is exactly whose it is,” Miss Betty told her. “Your father has sent it to you for a birthday gift.”

“But my birthday is past and gone.”

“That is true. He couldn’t get what he wanted at once, so he had to wait, and so your present has just arrived.”

Adele rushed forward and clasped the pony’s neck. “Oh, you dear beautiful thing,” she cried. “I love you. Oh, Jessie, isn’t he a beauty?”

Jessie could but agree that he certainly was.

“And can I drive him myself?” asked Adele eagerly.

“When you learn how,” she was told.

“I can drive,” declared Jessie. “I often drive when I am out with mother.”

“Your father says he is very gentle,” remarked Miss Eloise to Adele.

“Then couldn’t we try him now?” begged Adele.

“Couldn’t Jessie drive him just a little way to see how he goes?”

Miss Betty looked at Miss Eloise. “Do you think it would be safe?” she said.

“Can you really drive, Jessie?” asked Miss Eloise.

“I truly can,” Jessie told her. “I often drive all the way. I can turn out for the big teams and I can drive in through the gates as straight as anything.”

“Then you may jump in and show us what you can do,” Miss Betty consented, and the little girls were not slow in obeying.

“How far may we go?” asked Jessie taking up the reins.

“Oh, not out of sight. Just up and down the road where we can see you,” Miss Betty directed.

Jessie proudly turned the pony’s head toward the gate, drove through without accident, and soon the little pony was trotting up the road. Miss Betty and Miss Eloise came to the gate to watch. Jessie turned carefully and brought the pony back in triumph.

“Can’t she drive well?” said Adele admiringly. “She is going to teach me, and when she isn’t here to do it Otto can.” Otto was the Halletts’ man. “What shall I name him, Aunt Betty?”

“Why not call him Dapple Gray?” suggested Miss Eloise.

“Good! That will just suit him, but I shall never lend him to a lady to ride him far away. Oh, no, we don’t want to get out yet.”

“But the little pony must be tired. He has come a long distance to-day.”

That put another face upon the matter and Adele was quite willing that Jessie should give up the reins to Otto who led Dapple Gray to the stable.

“I never knew such lovely things as happen nowadays,” said Adele as she and Jessie returned to the garden. “First I met you and we had the lovely plays down by the brook, then came Eb, and now this dear Dapple Gray! Before I came here weeks and weeks used to go by and nothing at all happened. I do hope we can go driving every day by ourselves; it would be such fun.”

Within a week Adele had learned to manage her pony pretty well, and the two little girls were allowed to take a short drive each day, not going out of sight of the house, but in time Adele tired of this and was bent upon going farther. She begged and entreated till Miss Betty was on the point of yielding, and at last agreed to take a longer drive than usual in her own carriage that Adele and Jessie might follow in the pony cart. This satisfied Adele for a week, but there came a day when Miss Betty had one of her severe headaches, and Miss Eloise was not willing to leave her, so the two little girls were told they could take their drive alone, but must not go out of sight.

They started off contentedly enough, but soon Adele became tired of the monotonous drive up and down in front of the house. “Miss Eloise is with Aunt Betty and I know she isn’t thinking about us,” she said. “We may just as well go a little further and she will never know. It is so silly to go up and down, up and down, this stupid road and nowhere else.”

“Oh, but it wouldn’t be right, whether she sees us or not,” protested Jessie.

“There isn’t a bit of harm in it,” Adele insisted. “We go every day, and just because we are not with them it doesn’t matter. I am going further whether any one likes it or not.” She gave a little jerk to the reins and Dapple Gray started off on a trot. The excitement of a faster gait stirred Adele to further desire for a rapid drive. “I am tired to death of this old road,” she declared. “I want to go somewhere new. I am going to turn up this way.”

“Oh, no, please don’t,” begged Jessie.

“You needn’t say a word,” Adele interrupted. “You haven’t a thing to do with it. This is my pony and my cart, and you have to do it to sit still. You are my company and I am taking you to drive.”

Jessie felt that this was quite true, though she knew that Adele was doing wrong. She realized that she ought to do something, but she did not know just what. If she insisted upon getting out and going home she would leave Adele all alone, and that would be worse than staying to help her out of any difficulty into which she might fall. “Perhaps I’d better drive,” she ventured after a while when Adele had recklessly driven over a big stone and had almost bumped into a stump by the way.

“No, you shall not,” returned Adele. “The only way to learn to do a thing is to keep on doing it, no matter if you do it wrong sometimes. Papa always says so.”

Jessie had nothing to reply to this, but she watched Adele carefully. They were coming to a hill. Jessie looked around earnestly. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “do be careful, Adele. We are coming to the cut. It is at the foot of this hill. We came by the mill, I remember, and this leads by the old schoolhouse. We’d better turn and go back.”

“No, thank you,” replied Adele, “I’m going on. If you are scared you can get out and walk.”

Jessie’s feelings were deeply hurt. She wasn’t exactly scared, but she knew at the foot of the hill was the railroad cut, and though there was always some one there, if the horse took fright, or if anything happened to the cart or harness, it might mean an accident. “We have to cross the railroad,” she said after a pause.

“Well, suppose we do; other people cross it,” was the answer.

“Hold him in,” cried Jessie sharply, clutching at the reins as Dapple Gray went down the hill at a more rapid rate than she felt safe.

“Just let me alone,” cried Adele giving Dapple Gray a light touch with the whip.

“Don’t! Don’t!” cried Jessie, but Adele only laughed, and directly they were at the foot of the hill where the railroad ran. Instead of taking a clean straight course across it, Adele tried to drive diagonally. “There’s a whistle,” cried Jessie in alarm. Adele raised the whip again. Dapple Gray made a plunge forward. A wheel caught and presently Jessie was conscious that she was rolling down an embankment. Then she knew nothing for some time.

When she came to her senses, she was lying in a little gully among some bushes. She raised her head and then struggled to her feet. “No bones broken,” she said to herself, though she felt shaken and sore. She stood up and looked around. At a little distance she saw Adele sitting sobbing miserably. She ran toward her as fast as her bruises would allow. “Oh, Adele! Adele!” she cried, “are you hurt?”

“Oh! my arm, my arm,” moaned Adele. “I believe it is broken.”

“Oh, dear, dear, how dreadful,” responded Jessie. “Where is Dapple Gray?”

“I don’t know.”

Jessie climbed the bank and there saw Dapple Gray patiently standing, a broken wheel showing what had happened. The wheel had caught in the track and although both girls were thrown out as the wheel gave way the little pony had not bolted, but stood his ground. Jessie went up to him, and began to unfasten the harness. “It won’t do for you to stand so near the track,” she said. “You were a dear good pony not to run. The cart isn’t on the track, I am glad to say.” She led the pony down the bank to where Adele sat. “We are quite a way from home,” she said. “Shall you be afraid to stay here while I go for some one to take us back?”

“Oh, don’t leave me, don’t leave me,” Adele wept.

“If you could come up a little higher, you could watch me as I go,” said Jessie. “Ezra lives the nearest, and I am going down the track to call him.” Adele, still moaning and crying, allowed herself to be led to a higher spot. “I don’t think there will be any more trains for some time,” Jessie assured her, “and if you stay right here you can watch me going and coming. I will be as quick as I can.”

Adele suffered herself to be left and Jessie set out. Further down the railroad spanned a gully through which ran the brook. The only way to cross it was upon a narrow boardwalk on one side the bridge, this being used by the workmen as a short cut. The longer way was to go down hill and around to a foot-bridge higher up the brook. Jessie hesitated when she reached the path which led down hill. Should she go that way, or should she venture across the railroad bridge? If she did not look down and hold closely to the railing, perhaps it would not be so bad. She decided to try. So she stepped cautiously upon the planks and went on slowly, doing very well till she reached the middle, when incautiously she glanced down at the rushing water below. For one moment she felt sick and faint. Everything swam around. Then she closed her eyes and held tightly to the railing, stepping along slowly, each moment seeming an hour. In a few minutes her heart stopped its rapid beating and her head felt steady, so she opened her eyes and fixed them on the opposite bank, not once turning them from there, and at last she was safely over.

A little beyond was Ezra’s house with its smiling garden and white fence. Although she felt sore and bruised she began to run, forgetting her pain in her anxiety to reach the house. It was about Ezra’s supper time; there would be no trains coming or going at this time of day, and she would be sure to find the old man at home. So she began to call, “Ezra! Ezra!” and presently she saw his gray head over the fence.

He opened the gate and came out to meet her. “Why, little girl!” he exclaimed, “what are you doing on this road? ’Tain’t your way from home. Why, your face is cut and you’re all mussed up. Tumble down?”

“Oh, Ezra! Ezra!” cried Jessie, seizing his hand, “the pony cart upset us over the bank there by the cut, and Adele has hurt her arm. The pony is all right. He is standing just as still, but the cart-wheel is off so we can’t get home, at least I don’t know how to get Adele and the pony home.”

“Where did you say they were?” asked Ezra.

“On the other side of the gully, there by the cut.”

“You didn’t come over the railroad bridge?”

“Yes, it was the shortest way,” said Jessie simply.

Ezra uttered an exclamation. “You poor little tot, what would your mother say? Suppose you had slipped under the hand-rail and had fallen into the water?”

“I shut my eyes when I got dizzy.”

“Humph! Well, you don’t go back, that’s all. Come right in here and let my daughter straighten you out, wash off that poor little battered up face. Mark and I will go get the pony and the little girl. What do ye say her name is?”

“Adele. Adele Hallett.”

Ezra nodded. “Belongs to the yellow house. What ye been doing driving off in that direction by yourselves, is what I want to know.”

Jessie was silent. She did not like to blame Adele, though she knew it was entirely her fault. “I told Adele I’d hurry back,” she said.

“You’re not going back,” declared Ezra. “I’ll look after that young miss myself. Come right in the house. Here, Kitty,” he spoke to a young woman at the door. “Here’s Miss Loomis that brought us those good apples. She’s had an accident up the road a piece. Her and a young miss was out driving, and as far as I can make out they got catched on the railroad and a wheel came off. You tidy her up a bit while Mark and me goes after the other one.”

Jessie had often seen Ezra’s daughter as well as her husband Mark, and she was quite willing to be taken indoors to have her face bathed, the dirt brushed from her clothes and herself generally looked after. There was a tremendous bruise on her leg, one stocking was badly torn, and the side of her face was scraped and sore where she had fallen against the bank.

“It’s lucky you weren’t killed outright,” said Kitty, when by dint of much questioning she learned how the thing happened. “Pappy’ll be back in no time. You just set still and wait for him. I reckon your ma’ll be glad to see you alive when she hears what’s went on.”

She established Jessie in a chair by the window and continued her preparations for supper. In a very short time Ezra and Mark were back again with Adele in the wagon and Dapple Gray behind it. “I conclude she has broken her arm,” said Ezra to his daughter as he came into the house. “There ain’t no time to lose in getting her to the doctor to have it sot, so I think the quickest way is to drive her right to Dr. Sadtler’s and let him see what’s wrong. I ain’t said nothin’ to her about what I think.”

“Pore little thing,” said Kitty, “she looks real white.”

Jessie had flown to Adele. “I couldn’t come,” she exclaimed. “Ezra wouldn’t let me. Do you feel any better?”

“No.” Adele shook her head and her tears broke out afresh. “I want to go home, I want to go home,” she sobbed.

Ezra came out before Jessie had time for another word. “You stay here, honey,” he said to Jessie. “I’ll take this young lady to the doctor and let him fix her up so she’ll feel better and then we’ll come back for you.”

But Adele wailed out, “Go with me, Jessie. Go with me. I don’t want to see the doctor all alone.”

“Ezra will be with you,” said Jessie who was feeling rather shaky herself.

“Yes, sir, Ezra will be right with you,” said that person, “and moreover this young miss isn’t to go; she isn’t fit, all bruised up as she is. You won’t be alone, bless you, child. There ain’t a kinder woman in the country than Mrs. Sadtler, and she’ll mother you fine. You’ll be all right in no time. No, you don’t!” he stopped Jessie from climbing into the wagon. Mark had unfastened Dapple Gray and had tied him to the hitching-post. “We’ll go for the cart after a while,” said Ezra gathering up the reins. “You wait here, child, and I’ll be back as quick as I can.” So Jessie was obliged to see Adele drive off while she was left to Kitty’s tender mercies.

_CHAPTER IX_

_The Gray Kitten_

_CHAPTER IX_

_The Gray Kitten_

It was a very subdued and wan little Adele who was helped into the house by the doctor, who remained to explain the situation, while Ezra took Jessie home. Poor Miss Betty was overcome at sight of her niece with her arm in splints and looking so pale. “Child! child!” she cried. “What has happened? We have been so anxious about you. At first we thought you had gone home with Jessie, but Otto said he saw you driving in an opposite direction.” She turned to the doctor. “What has happened?” she asked tremulously.

“It seems the young ladies were crossing the track just there by the cut and the wheel caught in the track, upsetting their cart and throwing them out. Fortunately there is no worse damage done than a broken arm and a broken cart.”

“The horse ran away!” exclaimed Miss Betty.

“Not a bit of it. Fine little beast that he is, he stood stock still. Little Loomis girl was thrown into some bushes. She was stunned by the fall, but seems all right otherwise except for a few bruises. She was a little Trojan, Ezra Limpett tells me, and tramped across that dangerous railroad bridge to get help. You’d better have this child put to bed, Miss Hallett, and I see you look rather the worse for wear yourself.”

“I’ve had one of my headaches,” replied Miss Betty, passing her hand over her forehead.

“Humph! Fine time to take for explorations. I gather that’s what the youngsters were doing. At least my wife says so.” The doctor spoke as if he had no patience with such doings.

Miss Betty turned a troubled face upon Adele. “Oh, my child, how could you?” she exclaimed. “Didn’t you know we do not allow you to go out of sight of the house?”

Adele burst into loud sobs. “There, there,” said Miss Betty, soothingly; “I am sure you have had punishment enough, and I won’t scold, but I wish your father had never bought you that pony. I shall never have an easy day after this.”

“The pony is all right,” declared the doctor. “He had the good sense not to run when he felt the wheel going. He is a fine little fellow and it is due to his good behavior that the children came to no worse mishap. I’ll leave a quieting draught for the child, Miss Hallett, and something for that head of yours.”

“My head was better,” said Miss Betty weakly.

“This won’t come amiss,” replied the doctor, putting a few tablets into a small phial. “Get the child to bed and go yourself. I’ll come again in the morning.”

So while those in the yellow house were looking after Adele, Jessie was being driven home behind Ezra’s old white horse and was delivered safe, if not quite sound, into her mother’s arms.

As it was getting late Mrs. Loomis was getting anxious, and was about to send Max to the Halletts’ after his little sister. Ezra had not waited for thanks, but as soon as he had set Jessie safely down before her own door he drove off at as rapid a pace as his old horse could travel. At Jessie’s sudden appearance looking as if she had been through the wars her mother cried out: “Why, my child, what is the matter? How did you get such a scratched face? and look at your stocking torn to shreds.”

“Well, I vow!” exclaimed Walter, “you do look a sight! Been climbing trees, I bet.”

“Indeed I’ve not,” returned Jessie. “I can climb trees, but I haven’t done it to-day. I’ll tell you, mother, but I don’t want to before Walter.”

“Oh, all right,” said that person indifferently, “I don’t want to know.”

Jessie slipped her hand into her mother’s.

“Come up-stairs,” she said in a whisper, “and I’ll show you my leg.”

“Your leg?” Mrs. Loomis began to look alarmed, and led Jessie up-stairs. “My dear child,” she said when they had entered Jessie’s little room, “what has happened?”

“It wasn’t my fault, indeed it wasn’t,” began Jessie trying to be brave, but now that she was in the safe harbor of her mother’s arms, feeling that she could not keep back the tears. “I tried to make Adele stop, and not go out of sight, but she just would and would go further and further. She was bent and determined to go as far as she could, and I was afraid to let her go off by herself, and yet I knew it wasn’t right for us to be driving out of sight. I truly didn’t know what to do, mother. She wouldn’t let me drive nor get out nor anything and she wouldn’t go back, so all I could do was to sit still. Then she drove bias across the railroad truck, and the wheel caught, and we were tipped out. I fell down into some bushes and got an awful bruise. Just see.” She displayed a large black and blue surface to her mother.

“Why, you poor child, that certainly is a bruise. I must bathe it after a while. But now go on with your story.” Mrs. Loomis’s hands trembled as she held Jessie closer.

“Then,” continued the little girl, “when I came to my senses I didn’t see Adele at first, but I saw Dapple Gray standing quite still by the railroad track. A cart-wheel was off and the cart was tipped down the bank. But wasn’t Dapple Gray good not to move?”

“He was indeed, but oh, my little daughter, I dare not think what might have happened. Suppose a train had been coming along.”

“One did whistle. It was a freight train, I think, but it must have passed before we got there. Well, I picked myself up and found Adele sitting there crying about her arm. She has broken it, mother, but we didn’t know it then and there wasn’t any house nearer than Ezra’s so I went there.” She hesitated for a moment before going on. “It was so much nearer not to go across the foot-bridge, so I went the other way.”

“Oh, Jessie!” Mrs. Loomis turned pale.

“Yes, I did. I knew that perhaps I ought not, but it would save time, you see. I did get awfully dizzy just in the middle, but I shut my eyes and said,

“‘God shall charge His angel legions
Watch and ward o’er thee to keep,’

and presently I felt all right, so I got over safely and found Ezra--oh, dear, he hasn’t had his supper. Isn’t that too bad!--and Kitty washed my face and fixed me up while Ezra and Mark went for Adele and took her to the doctor. Then they stopped for me and we all took Adele home and then Ezra brought me.”

“My darling child, what a dreadful time you have had,” exclaimed Mrs. Loomis.

“I haven’t told any one but you about Adele, mother, truly I haven’t. I never said to any one that it was her fault. Could I help it happening? What ought I to have done?”

Mrs. Loomis was silent for a moment. “It was a very hard position for a little girl, so hard that I do not see how I can consent to your being thrown with so wilful a child as Adele. I am afraid for the consequences.”

“Oh, mother!” There were surprise and regret in Jessie’s tones. “Am I never to play with her again, poor Adele! And am I never to go to the yellow house? Not for lessons or anything? Oh, mother!”

“I shall have to think it over, dear, and have a talk with your father before we can decide. It is a very serious matter for us to have our only dear little girl placed in such danger as you were in to-day. So far as you were concerned I really do not see how you can be blamed, and you tried to be brave and noble for Adele’s sake, but we must make it impossible for such a thing to happen again. Now, come down and have some supper, and then I think you’d better go to bed, for it has been a very exciting day for you. There will be no lessons to-morrow and you’d better not get up very early.” She did not say that she still felt anxious lest Jessie had suffered more from the accident than at once appeared.

The next morning Jessie woke up feeling stiff and sore, and was glad when Max came up with her breakfast. He had added some ripe persimmons to her bill of fare and was so kind and solicitous that Jessie quite enjoyed the reputation of invalid. Walter, too, poked his head in the door and asked how she was feeling, blundering out a half apology by saying, “Why didn’t you tell a fellow what was the matter when you came in?” Then he tossed a little pale pink rose on the bed and ran away. The rose was the last of the season and he had found it braving the frost which had sweetened the persimmons. Minerva, also, came up with a plate of tiny hot biscuits which she had baked especially for the little girl.

Later in the day Max was sent over to inquire how Adele was, and brought back the report that she was doing very well but had had a feverish night. By the time Max had returned Jessie had found bed rather a tiresome place and so had begged to be allowed to get up and come down.

Her father looked her over, asked many questions and finally decided that the big bruise was her worst hurt and that she could go out and in as she pleased. “Run out-of-doors all you want to,” he said, “but don’t get tired out,” so Jessie availed herself of this permission and concluded to go hunt up the boys.

She found them in the barn amusing themselves with Eb. He had learned to say, “Hallo!” and was walking back and forth on a beam, cocking his eye and looking down at the boys below.

“He’s a funny fellow,” said Max as Jessie came in. “I’d like to take him back to school. We’re going Monday. Carl is all right, they say.”

“It certainly would make the children laugh and play
To see a crow at school,”

said Jessie laughing.

“Jessie had a little crow
As black as you can think.
It followed her to school one day
And drank up all the ink,”

said Max.

“Ho, I can do better than that,” boasted Walter.

“Jessie had a little crow
As black as any sloe
And everywhere that Jessie went
The crow was sure to go.”

“What is a sloe?” asked Jessie.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Walter. “Ask Max. He is the walking dictionary.”

“It is a kind of plum, I believe,” Max told them.

“I never saw a plum as black as Ebon is,” said Jessie, stroking the shining feathers of the bird who had flown down and was sitting on her wrist.

“And I suppose you never saw a green rose, but I have,” returned Max.

“Where did you see it?” Jessie asked.

“In a greenhouse, Mr. Atkinson’s.”

“Well, I suppose plums could be black,” said Jessie persuaded that Max knew what he was talking about.

“Look at Eb pecking at your buttons, Jess,” said Walter. “He has one almost off.”

Jessie wore a red jacket whose bright buttons pleased Ebon’s fancy. “He is getting to be a great mischief,” she said. “He tried to carry off mother’s thimble yesterday. Go ’long, Eb. Go pretend you are a chicken or something. Max, will you go with me to Effie Hinsdale’s to get my kitten? It is big enough now, and if I am not to go to Adele’s any more I shall need the kitten.”

“Let’s go with her,” proposed Walter. “Then we can see Jack and some of the other boys. We’ll go, Jess.”

Walter was very amiable to-day, Jessie thought. He really loved his little sister, and the fact that she had been in great danger the day before made him realize what it would be to lose her.

“We might get both kittens,” said Jessie, “and then we could leave Adele’s for her on our way home. She will be so glad to have it now that she has a broken arm and no one to play with.”

“Do you suppose her father will sell Dapple Gray?” said Walter. “I wish our father could buy him.”

“Adele would feel awfully to have him sold,” said Jessie. “Oh, dear!” she drew a long sigh.

“What’s the matter?” asked Max anxiously.

“Nothing much. I was only thinking what a pity it is that things can’t always go right.”

“I don’t see what possessed you two to go off that way,” said Walter reading her thoughts.

“I don’t either,” returned Jessie turning away. “I’m going up to the house now to get a basket for the kittens.”

“I don’t believe she had a thing to do with it,” said Max to his brother when Jessie was out of hearing. “I’ll bet it was the Hallett girl that wanted to have her way, and Jess won’t tell on her.”

“That’s pretty decent of Jess then,” said Walter, “and it was pretty fine of that pony not to bolt when the wheel came off. I’ll tell you a pony like that is worth having. Ezra said he stood as still as a post till they led him away.”

“I reckon Mr. Hallett won’t want to give him up,” returned Max.

“But he’ll not let those two kids go driving off by themselves again,” remarked Walter with the superiority of his years, which were but two more than Jessie’s.

Jessie with her two brothers made the visit to the Hinsdales, and Jessie bore away the gray kitten in triumph, but her pleasure was marred by finding that the black kitten had been given to a cousin of the cook’s, so there was none for Adele.

“I am so sorry,” said Effie, “but Adele shall have first choice of the next batch.”

“She’ll be dreadfully disappointed,” said Jessie sadly.

“I am so sorry,” repeated Effie, “and if there were one left she should have it, but we never take the last one from Tippy, you see; that wouldn’t be right, and yours is the last one left to give.”

Jessie hugged her own furry darling to her, and, the boys having called out that they couldn’t wait any longer, she was obliged to join them, but all the way home she was struggling with a problem. Ought she to give up the gray kitten to Adele? Poor Adele had no brothers and no mother, and, if Jessie must give her up, she would have no playmate. Although Adele had been the means of getting them both into serious trouble, Jessie felt the sorrier for her on account of her very naughtiness, and somehow could only think of her friend as she was in her most charming moods. When she chose, Adele could be the most fascinating of companions, and Jessie believed that her love was very genuine, so the more she thought of it the more she felt that she ought to give up the kitten.

However, she decided not to make up her mind right away, and in the meantime she need not let Adele know that the gray kitten had been taken away from Effie’s. But while she was weighing the matter in her own mind came a note from Adele that settled the question. It arrived the next morning, and was the outcome of a visit from Effie who had literally let the cat out of the bag when she went to see how Adele was. The note ran thus:

“You don’t love me, for you haven’t been to see me and I suppose you
think I am too bad to play with. You can go to your old Polly and
stay with her all the time. I shall not trubble you, but I want my
Peter Pan and I know Polly has stoled him to spite me. Efy says you
have your kiten. What made you take it when there wassent any for me?
Oh, I am verry miserble with nobuddy to play with. If Polly dossent
send back my Peter Pan I am going to burn her up. Her scraggy hair
would make a luvly blaze.

“Your forsakened frend,
“ADELE.”

At the end was a tear-stained postscript which read: “I did love you. I did, I did.”

Evidently Adele was in one of her worst moods and was feeling very remorseful and unhappy. This Jessie knew, but at the same time she was indignant that Adele should still harp upon Polly’s wickedness. Of course it was very absurd for her to say such things, for how could Polly steal anything? Yet the note quite decided Jessie not to give up the gray kitten, and her pity for Adele suffered a change.

_CHAPTER X_

_Across Water_

_CHAPTER X_

_Across Water_

It was some time before the two little girls met, for Mrs. Loomis could not make up her mind to allow Jessie to go over to the yellow house, while Miss Betty and Miss Eloise appreciated the fact that there was reason for hard feelings against Adele, and moreover thought that nothing would make the little sinner realize her misdoing more than such a punishment as a separation from Jessie. Mrs. Loomis had not failed to get daily reports of Adele’s progress and sent her over many dainties while she was in bed, so that Adele’s remorse was all the greater.

Jessie answered the note by saying she was very sorry about the kitten, but she did not refer to Peter Pan nor to Playmate Polly. For a whole week she was obliged to spend her time with her old companions, for the boys returned to school as expected, so Eb and the gray kitten were a great source of solace. Eb took a great fancy to Cloudy, and it was very funny to see him, with outspread wings, hopping after the prancing kitten who was in no way afraid of him, and who would give him little impertinent dabs when he came too near. He infinitely preferred Cloudy to the chickens.

Finally when a week had gone by, and Jessie, who had avoided the brook for some days, was again playing with Peter Pan and Playmate Polly, she looked across the little stream to see a wistful pair of dark eyes gazing at her. “Oh, Adele!” she cried, “are you able to come out again?”

A flashing smile changed the expression of Adele’s face. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t speak to me,” she exclaimed. “I can’t come over, for I am trying awfully hard to be good. Can’t you come to this side?”

“I’m afraid not,” replied Jessie slowly, “but perhaps if each stays on her own side we can have some sort of play and won’t be disobedient either.”

“I think that will be lovely,” cried Adele. “What can we play? I can use only my right arm, you know.”

“Will it be a long time before you can use the other?” asked Jessie interestedly.

“Not so very, very long. The doctor says it is doing very well indeed, but oh, Jessie, it has been awful without you.”

“Are you having lessons?”

“No, not yet. Aunt Betty hasn’t said anything about that, and--and,” the tears came to her eyes, “if you are not there I shall hate lessons worse than ever. I was getting so I didn’t mind them.”

“It is too bad,” returned Jessie.

“I suppose your mother thinks I am too wicked for you to play with,” remarked Adele after an awkward pause.

“Well,--not exactly,” Jessie wondered how she could explain, “but you see she is afraid we’ll get into some mischief.”

“I know, I know,” returned Adele. “I suppose I am very wicked, but I shall never want to be good if we can’t be friends.”

Jessie pondered for a moment over this speech. It made her feel a great responsibility. She wondered if her mother knew that Adele was in danger of becoming very, very wicked, if it would make any difference in her decision about their friendship. Certainly it was a subject that needed to be discussed, and it should be done that very night when Jessie and her mother had their last little talk before Mrs. Loomis kissed her daughter good-night. For the present it would be best not to talk about it, and so she said, “I’ll tell you what we can do; we can send boats back and forth to each other. You can stay on one end of the log and I will stay on the other.”

“If I come to the middle, will you come and kiss me?” asked Adele.

Jessie thought there could be no harm in doing that upon strictly neutral ground. “But we mustn’t stay there,” she concluded.

“Oh, no, we won’t stay there,” agreed Jessie. So they proceeded to the middle of the log that spanned the brook, fervently kissed one another, and then retreated each to her own side.

“I’ll get some chips,” said Jessie, “and throw some over to you. We ought to have some string, too. Oh, I know where there is some; in the grotto I had a little ball of it the other day, and I put it there to keep it safe.”