Back Aa

Leave it to Doris

[Pg 165] <h2>CHAPTER IX THE RUNAWAYS</h2> Treasure and Zee were in the garage, studying history in the roomy back seat of the red car. "Father is very pettish about some things," said Zee, suddenly banging the covers of the history together. "Why in the world does he always say we are too young to drive? He taught Doris, and she grips the wheel like mad—a very unprofessional thing to do, everybody says so. And he taught Rosalie, and she goes tearing along, smiling here and nodding there, and nearly runs over dogs and wagons and— But he says we are too young, though you are very cautious, and I am smart for my age. I know perfectly well how she goes." They dropped their books on the floor and clambered over into the front seat, Zee at the wheel. "First you turn this little business, and then[Pg 166] you put this sparker thing here, and bang down with your heel on that, and push out with your left foot, and pull this thing back into low, and give it the gas, and away you go, tralalalala." "That is right," said Treasure. "You do know, sure enough. I have watched them hundreds of times." "So have I," said Zee in a discontented voice. "But that's all the good it does. They won't let us, though we know how, perfectly well. Treasure, don't you think maybe father would let us drive if we could prove to him that we know how? He says we are too young to learn, but if we show him we have learned already he certainly wouldn't have much argument left." "Father is rather particular." "But think how useful it would be if we knew how—then if anybody should get sick, or die in a hurry, we could rush after father in the car, and—I am sure he would not object, if we could just show him. Let's practise by ourselves a little, and then he won't say a word. Think how surprised he will be." [Pg 167] "Maybe you could not stop it." "Why, you just turn the key, that's all. It is perfectly simple. A child could do it. Look out and see if there is any one around, will you? I know I can do it." <div class="center"><ANTIMG src="images/i168.jpg" alt="Why, you just turn the key, that's all" /></div> "Why, you just turn the key, that's all" Treasure dutifully looked, and no one was in sight. "How surprised they will be. Won't we have the laugh on them when we come driving up to the door?" So Treasure opened the door of the garage and got in beside her sister again. Zee sat up very straight, and pursed her lips together. "First, turn the key." "Yes." Zee turned the key. "Now put the sparker business down in the middle." "Yes." Zee put it down. "Step on the starter." "Yes." Zee stepped on it. [Pg 168] This produced a low aimless whirr, quite powerless. "Pull up that little flooder thing," said Treasure. "Father always does that." Zee pulled it to the tiptop, and banged her heel on the starter again. This time the enticing tug told her the engine had caught, and was ready for action. "Push with the left foot and put her in low," said Zee, between her teeth. She found it took quite a vicious pull on the gears to "put her in low." And the instant it clicked into place, the car shot forward out of the garage with a violent pull that dashed them against the seat and took their breath away. And there was a tearing and crashing of wood—the garage door was none too wide— "Father's fault," shouted Zee, pulling on the wheel for dear life. "Just splintered a little." "Slow up," cried Treasure. The car was in the main road now, swerving over the corner to the right, which fortunately was a low grassy bank with no curbing. Zee,[Pg 169] rocking dizzily in her seat, moved the wheel from side to side at such a furious pace that she kept the car almost inside the road, and clear of the ditches on either side. "Go slow," begged Treasure. "I can't," cried Zee. "She must be leaking." After two blocks of riotously dangerous riding, Zee remembered that if she shoved with her left foot it did something to stop it—and she shoved, and the engine lifted, and the car slowed down. She turned a white anxious face toward Treasure. "That was some speed," she gasped. "Watch the road, Zee. You had the gas thing in the middle instead of the sparker thing—" "Oh, sure enough, wasn't that silly?" Zee put the hand feeder in its proper place and prepared to start again. "I know how to drive this car—I know how, and I will do it," she said between her teeth. She put it into low again, and started once more, very slowly. [Pg 170] "Put it into second now," suggested Treasure. Zee shoved the gear shift grimly forward—into reverse—and there was a grinding of wheels and a curious sound of stripping gears that would have broken the heart of an older driver. Zee discovered her mistake, and remedied it quickly, pulling the gear into low once more, ready for a fresh start. "Oh, Zee, let me drive," begged Treasure. "I am sure I can do it." By rare good fortune, Zee succeeded in getting it into second gear, and finally, with a tearing racket, into high, and leaned back in her seat. "This is something like, now," she panted, releasing her scarlet lip from between her teeth. "The fender is all bent," mourned Treasure. "Oh, father'll fix it. See how well we're going now." Treasure said nothing. They were not yet home, and there was a wagon coming toward them. Zee swung the car to the right to pass the wagon—too far—she was fairly in the ditch at[Pg 171] the side—with a wild turn of the wheel they bumped into the road again, the fender banging the back wheel of the wagon. "Hay, you blithering—" shouted the man angrily, and then, seeing their predicament, he pulled off to the side of the road and turned about in his seat staring after them. Zee, panic-stricken at the collision, lost her wits completely, and couldn't remember how to stop it—but kept jamming desperately on the gas feeder, harder and harder, swinging along the road, swaying from side to side, while Treasure, with one long cry of agony slid into the bottom of the car and clasped her hands over her ears. The car dashed madly on, and between bursts Zee pulled everything in sight and pushed everything she could find—but that car was a demon—it went over hills and through ditches like a thing possessed. It swung around wagons, and ran down a flock of chickens, and—oh, kindly Providence, which watches over straying preacher bodies—of its own free will, though guided, of[Pg 172] course, by a friendly predestination—the car went slower, and slower, with a funny choking powerless sound quite unlike its natural brisk chug, and presently Zee's scattered wits returned to her. She turned the key, and the car stopped. Treasure, sobbing pitifully, untangled herself from the gears, and stumbled out of the car. "I—drove—it," quivered Zee, and she opened the door and stepped out—falling limply on the ground. Treasure, forgetting her own plight, ran to Zee's assistance. "Nothing at all's the matter," stammered Zee, smiling pluckily. "Just wobbly, that's all—can't stand on myself." So Treasure sat down beside her in the road, and they had a heart-restoring cry in each other's tender arms, the dust of the road mingling with their bitter tears and leaving tell-tale tracks upon their sorry faces. Zee recovered first. "Crazy old thing," she said with a vicious little kick at the bent fender. "I always said Doris should have chosen the cow." [Pg 173] "What shall we do now?" asked Treasure helplessly. "I am going to sit right here until father comes and finds us. Oh, Treasure, you'd better drive it off to the side of the road—and—" "Who—me? Not on your life. I won't touch it. It is bewitched." "Somebody will run into it then. Let's push it." Treasure had serious objections even to that form of locomotion, for she felt in her inmost soul that the only way to keep that red demon stopped was never to give it a start. But as Zee was insistent, she finally consented to get behind and give a grudging push. Due, however, to the fact that it was still in gear, and the brakes were set, they could not budge it. So they went off to the side of the road where it could not fall on them if anybody did run into it and waited. After a time a car came along, passed by, slowed up and stopped. The driver leaned over the door of his car and asked pleasantly: "Are you in trouble, girls? Can I help you?" [Pg 174] "Oh, no, thank you, we are waiting for father," said Zee primly. The driver regarded them curiously. "Don't you think you'd better pull off to the side of the road a little? Pretty narrow passing there." The girls looked at the road in surprise. "Why, so it is. Isn't that too bad?" "Can you drive off to the side?" "No, indeed, father does not allow us to drive." "I'll give you a push," he said very obligingly, and came at once to their assistance. He frowned a little when he saw the car in gear, and the brakes set, but he released them without comment, and the girls helping bravely, the disgraced red car was moved out of the main road. "Shall I tow you back to town?" The girls winced visibly. Be towed home in disgrace—rather would they sit there and freeze and starve and die of hunger and thirst forever. "Oh, no, thank you. We'll just wait for father." "Where is your father?" [Pg 175] "He isn't here just now," said Zee faintly. So the man drove slowly away, looking back now and then. The girls, in spite of the dust, did not sit in the car. They would not trust themselves alone in that car under any circumstances. Instead they went soberly up the bank and sat down again, side by side. Once in a while Zee wiped her pale brow wearily. "Such a life," she muttered once. "Here comes something now," said Treasure, looking hopefully down the road toward town. "Maybe it is father." "Horseback rider." "I hope he does not offer to tow us home." "If he does, I shall tell him to mind his own business." As the rider drew near, the girls leaned forward and studied his features. "He will laugh at us," said Treasure sadly. "That is worse than offering to tow us home. It is that horribly sarcastic Curious Cat that kept the Crab from arresting us when we trespassed on his ugly old ditch." [Pg 176] Zee flipped over on the ground and buried her face in her hands. "I will not look at him. Tell him I am dead, tell him— Tell him anything, but I can not let that hateful old thing look at me and grin." "Zee," begged Treasure, "sit up and be decent. I can't talk to him. Sit up, and help me." Zee was obdurate. So Treasure, determined not to face the Curious Cat without support, turned her back to the road and gazed off over the landscape. The rider drew up beside the car, and stopped his horse. He looked intently at the two girls, who saw him not—except from the very tip tails of their eyes. Then he examined the car, whistling cheerfully—and his whistle was more aggravating than his laughter, if such a thing could be. He got off his horse presently and slipped the bridle over a fence post. Then he carefully inspected the bent fenders, and looked at the engine. And then—wasn't he the most infuriating thing you ever saw in your life?—from the pocket of his riding coat he pulled a package of[Pg 177] milk chocolate, and sauntered over to the bank where the girls still sat, oblivious of his presence. He flung himself on the ground near them and began nibbling the chocolate. Treasure's lips trembled with the shame of it. Zee twisted the toes of her shoes into the ground in impotent fury. The Curious Cat ate deliberately, soulfully, complacently, and tossed his hat to the ground, laying his head comfortably on his arm, his face toward the girls. And to add to the insult of his presence he began humming that idiotic little ditty about "two babes in the woods" in a soft sentimental tone. Zee stood it as long as she could. Then she sat up, seeming to blink the sleep from her bright eyes. "Why, Treasure— Why, I did go to sleep, didn't I?" Then she saw him, apparently for the first time. "Why, how do you do?" she said brightly. "Where did you come from? I drove and drove until I was so tired—I couldn't stand it, and so we stopped to rest." [Pg 178] She held out a cordial hand, and he took it gravely. Then Treasure turned upon them, and said, "Why, you here? I was—enjoying that—beautiful view." "Yes, I noticed that you were wrapped up in it. Had you a pleasant ride?" "Oh, lovely. But I am not used to driving, and I got so tired. I don't believe I can ever get the thing home." "Maybe your sister can—" "Oh, Treasure will not drive. She is afraid of motors." "Maybe I can take you home." "Oh, we want to walk. We are so stiff from riding. But won't you please take the car in—we feel like walking ourselves—it will do us good." He looked at them keenly. "Do you want some chocolate?" The girls accepted it gratefully. "Suppose we go on to the Haunted House, and let the old grouch give us some tea? I feel rather weak. Don't you?" he suggested finally. [Pg 179] "Very," they said with sincerity. "But father will find out—I mean—they will worry about us. We have been gone—quite a while," protested Treasure. "He will not worry. He knows nobody would hurt nice little preacher girls like you. I am willing—more than willing—to take the car home, but I've got to find a place to leave my horse, and I've got to have some tea. Is it a bargain or not? You come with me for tea, I take you home—and I will try to sneak you in the back way so your father will not catch you. But no tea, no sneak." Zee stood up. "Treasure, you may sit here and be ministerial if you like. I want some tea." "That is something like. Now, you drive the car down the road to the rustic gate, and—" "Who, me? I am tired of driving. I guess I won't go after all." "Well, then you girls must sit in the back seat and lead the horse. I shall drive slowly." "I feel more like walking. I do not want to ride." [Pg 180] "It is a mile and a half, and you've got to get home some time. Don't be silly. I know how to handle a car." So in quivering fear the girls stepped in and he gave Zee the bridle. Then he started the car—the treacherous, ungrateful thing!—it went off as smoothly and gently as a perfect lady. How tenderly Zee thought at that moment of the Jersey they did not choose. Down the road they went very slowly, then up a long winding trail among the trees by the creek to the Haunted House, an old-fashioned rambling building with vines and flowers running riot in every direction. "Maybe he will not like it. He has a terrible disposition, you know." "We shall charm him. He and the house are haunted, but fifty cents will enslave them both." "Fifty cents would buy two gallons of gas," whispered Zee, shocked at the recklessness, but even her frankness did not extend to the point of protesting at the extravagance of a stranger—especially when she needed tea. The Corduroy Crab greeted them as [Pg 181]unconcernedly as though they came by invitation, and took the bridle from Zee's hand. "Sir, we had a sad accident," said the Curious Cat in a respectful voice. "We are thirsty, tired, and—much wiser. May we have a cup of tea on the porch in a hurry?" He slipped a half-dollar into the man's willing hand as he spoke. The Corduroy Crab seemed not at all surprised. "Of course," he said briefly, and led the horse away. "Now there's a gentleman," said the Curious Cat appreciatively. "Took my money like a—preacher." "What do you mean—like a preacher?" demanded Zee resentfully. But the Curious Cat did not seem to hear, for he was piling soft cushions into wide porch chairs where the girls might sit in comfort. A little later a black serving man came out and pulled a small table from a corner of the porch, arranging it deftly with doilies, and in less than five minutes the girls were eating chicken sandwiches and drinking tea—to be sure, they were[Pg 182] not allowed to drink tea at home, but Zee said truly that their nerves required something out of the ordinary. And there was a small silver basket of chocolates on the table— "Isn't that lucky?" said the Curious Cat, eying the candy greedily. "It is my one and only weakness. Apart from chocolate I am free from worldly affectations. But chocolate—I eat it with every meal, and take a piece to bed at night. Without it I am become as a ravening wolf and a—a thirsting camel. It does seem rather a refined and ladylike accomplishment for one as rough and rude as I—one of the eccentricities of Nature, who played me many pranks." "Yes," said Treasure politely. "However do you suppose the Corduroy Crab—" "Zee!" "The what?" "Oh, excuse me— He won't tell, Treasure. We call him the Corduroy Crab because he was so disagreeable, you know. I was just—" "Pardon the interruption—but do you mind[Pg 183] telling me by what particular form of endearment you designate me?" "The—the Curious Cat," said Zee, though Treasure kicked her smartly under the table. "Because you were so cattish to us, making fun of us, and laughing. Very catty thing to do. And we added the Curious because you really are awfully—queer, you know." "And what were you wondering about the Crab?" "I was just wondering how he comes to have things fixed so lovely? It is wonderful here. It used to be all tumbly and crazy, and things growing everywhere, and little funny animals and bugs shooting around in every direction—it was awful. Father brought us once because we had to write a theme in school—and we couldn't sleep for two nights." "It still looks wild," said Treasure softly. "But it is such a lovely wildness—all the ugly grime is gone, and the beauty of it is more beautiful than ever. And it doesn't make you shiver now—it only makes you sad." [Pg 184] "It does not make me sad," said Zee. "I am never sad when there are chicken sandwiches. And this china— Well, I know it is better than ours at the manse, and it was given to us by our last Christian Endeavor, so you may know it is very nice indeed—but this is better still—and I believe to goodness these are regular silver spoons. And do you suppose the colored man is his servant? And hasn't he any wife? And do you think he bought this place? I wonder where he got the money? And why does he stay out of sight—he ought to come and eat with us, since we are company?" The Curious Cat waved his arms helplessly. "I am trying to bring a spirit from the air to answer your questions. But it does not work. I am afraid I ate too many sandwiches. I never can do my enchantments when I eat more than six sandwiches at a sitting." "I think we ought to go," said Treasure. "I am afraid we are not just welcome. Wouldn't it be lovely to lie around here a whole day, Zee? But we have to go." [Pg 185] "Can you truly sneak us in without any one catching us?" "We are going to try." So they drove hurriedly home to the manse again, and the girls said good-by to their Curious Cat and felt that after all he had his good points. He did not say a word about the shattered door of the barn, and the girls did not wonder until he had lifted his hat and disappeared how he was going to get back to his horse again. They closed the doors of the barn sadly and went into the house. How quiet and cool and beautiful the manse was that afternoon. They walked slowly, appreciatively through every room. Doris, sitting in the bay-window with the eternal mending, was like a glorious madonna, and they put their arms around her and kissed her tenderly, as girls returned from a long absence. But she took it very placidly. They saw Rosalie lying on her bed up-stairs, reading, and eating an apple. How pretty and dear Rosalie was. They stood in the doorway and looked at her almost worshipfully. [Pg 186]Outside their father's study they stood a long time, thinking, but went at last to their own room and closed the door. A little later they heard their father at the telephone, asking questions—but it was aimless conversation, they could make nothing of it. How strange it was that they had not been missed. Such wonderful things had happened, life had been spared to them by less than a fraction of an inch—and here were their loved ones, Doris mending, Rosalie eating apples, father writing a sermon—as serenely as though two dear young daughters had not just been returned to them from the shadow of the grave. They sat in their room, waiting, talking not at all. After a while Doris called them to supper, and they took their places in subdued silence. What a wonderful way father had of asking the blessing—why, every word of it seemed to call down a benediction on every one at the table. And how good the dinner was—they were not hungry, but it was delicious food, unbelievably[Pg 187] well cooked. And Doris in the big kitchen apron was exquisite. When they reached dessert, Zee rose to the height of public confession. "Father, Treasure and I—and principally I, for I did it—were very naughty. We took the car out of the garage, and smashed the door getting it out, and we drove into the country and nearly killed horses and wagons and autos and ran into ditches and bent the fenders and ran down a lot of chickens, and got stuck, and a man brought us home. We are very sorry." How calmly they took it!—a climactic, criminal thing like that—after all, they were rather a sordid family. Father looked at the girls soberly, noted their pale faces, the dark circles under their weary eyes. "I know it," he said at last gravely. "Oh, father, you knew it—and you didn't try to find us?" There was pain and reproach in Treasure's voice. [Pg 188] "I knew all that was happening," he said quickly, with a reassuring smile at Treasure. "Mr. Smelton telephoned that he helped you to the side of the road—that was the first we knew of it. And a little later some one else—I did not just get the name—but he telephoned that he was giving you some tea, and you were quite safe, and he was going to bring you home." "It was that Curious Cat— You know, Doris, the one who made the Corduroy Crab be good to us—" "The Curious Cat? Oh, father, what was his name?" cried Doris, leaning way over the table in her eagerness. "It sounded like—Saunders—something like Saunders—" "Saunders, nothing," cried Zee. "Saunders is the Corduroy Crab—we heard that. Oh, it must have been him who phoned—" "He." "Yes, he. Because the Curious Cat was not away long enough—he just left a minute—to see about the horse." [Pg 189] "And then he told Saunders to telephone—" "Yes, of course." Doris sat back. "The old torment. How can anybody find out about such a curious old—Curious Cat?" she wondered to herself. In answer to her questions, the girls could tell little. "He does not live at the Haunted House, just the Corduroy Crab—and the—the—" "The Courteous Coon," cried Zee. "Let's stick to our harmony." "They live there, and the Curious Cat lives somewhere very near—and things are lovely at the Haunted House, there are flowers on the porch, and pictures, and curtains—did you ever hear of such a thing? Soft brown curtains of silk rubbery stuff—and it is lovely. And the vines are all red and gold, and the ground is a mass of fallen leaves." "Father, please tell us the punishment. It gives you such an—empty feeling to have—unknown punishments hanging over your head." "Oh, the punishment," he said, and started[Pg 190] promptly for the door. "That is why we have a General. Leave it to her." The girls turned appealing faces toward Doris. "Tell us, General," they said, in the tone of martyrdom. "You can not ride in the car again for three whole weeks. When the rest of us drive, you two must walk. And that is all—for you have had quite a little punishment already." The girls thanked her warmly, and went out. In the hall they looked at each other lovingly, and smiled. "Isn't that ducky?" said Zee. "It is not any punishment at all. Somehow since this afternoon the smell of the engine makes me seasick." Treasure quivered. "Ducky? Oh, Zee, it is delicious. Suppose she had made us ride all day to-morrow. I couldn't have stood it." "Anyhow, I guess I proved that I can drive the car," said Zee stoutly. "Only, of course, since father does not wish me to, I shall never think of doing it until I am older." <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.