"Now is my chance!" whispered Racky, as he looked out the partly-open door and saw the moon shining on the trees. "I'll travel on!"
During the luncheon hour, while Nat and Weezie were home from school, little was talked of but the strange disappearance of the old rocker, with Grandma's glasses in the cushions.
"I can't understand it at all," murmured the puzzled old lady who could hardly see the food on her plate. "Such things as rockers being taken away by tramps never happened in my house!"
"This is a different house, Grandma," said Nat, "and more different things happen here than happen in any other house around—all the boys say so. Look how our gas stove ran away!"
"Oh, don't talk to me about such nonsense!" laughed Grandma. "You must have dreamed that about the stove!"
But Nat and Weezie were sure they had not dreamed it.
"And I believe your rocker ran away just the same," said Weezie.
But the dear old lady shook her white head and murmured:
"A tramp slipped in and took my chair and glasses. However, the police officer will catch him and bring back Racky, cushions, glasses and all. And I'll be so glad to get them, for I'm half blind as it is!"
When the children hurried back to school, Rodney and Addie skipping along with Nat and Weezie, they talked of what had happened.
"Wouldn't it be great if we could catch that tramp and get your Grandma's chair and glasses?" asked Rod, as he and Nat neared the schoolhouse.
"It wasn't a tramp, I tell you!" insisted Nat. "I know that chair ran away just as the stove did."
"Then why can't we chase after it and get it back, the same as we did when Thump ran away, and we found him and the gas stove together?" asked Rodney.
"Maybe we could," agreed Nat.
"Oh, let's do it to-morrow, instead of going fishing!" went on the other boy. "Will you?"
"I guess so—maybe," agreed Nat. "To-morrow or next day. We haven't any more school this week, on account of some of the classes having examinations. So we could go hunting for the chair or go fishing, whichever we liked."
"We can do both!" cried Rod, quickly. "We'll go fishing and take Thump with us, and he can help us find the lost rocker!"
"And if we get Grandma's glasses, maybe she'll give us each five cents," exclaimed Nat.
"Hurray! That would be great!" cried Rod, and just then the last bell rang, so the children had to hurry into school.
That afternoon Nat spoke to his mother about going fishing next day.
"I'm afraid it will be too cold," objected Mrs. Marden. "We shall have winter almost before we know it."
"That's why Rod and I want to go fishing—before it is too late," explained Nat. "Soon the pond and brook will be frozen over, and then we can't catch anything. May we go?"
"Oh, yes, I guess so," promised Mrs. Marden. "And I hope you catch the big rocker!"
"What?" cried Nat in surprise, looking at his mother.
"Oh, I mean I hope you catch the big fish," she said, laughing a little. Truth to tell, she was thinking very much about the disappearance of the rocker and grandma's glasses, though she did not really believe the chair had traveled off by itself.
"We'll have lots of fun!" exclaimed Nat and he ran to tell his chum that he could go fishing. Rod was also permitted to go, and the two boys made great plans for next day.
"Are you going to take Thump?" asked Weezie of her brother after supper that evening.
"Oh, yes, sure! Thump's going fishing with us!"
"Then couldn't you take Addie and me?" begged Weezie. "We get tired playing with dolls. We don't have to fish—we could just watch you and Rod."
"Yes, I guess you can go," promised Nat.
But the next day it rained. It rained all night. And it rained the next day, too. Big, pelting drops came down, and when the children looked out of the windows, they knew there would be no fishing for them until it cleared. Two whole days of rain, and when there was no school, either! It was quite sad.
"Oh, dear!" sighed Nat when he saw the second day of rain.
"What can we do?" asked his sister.
"Why don't you play up in the attic?" inquired Grandma. "That's what I used to do when I was a girl, and it rained on a holiday."
"Oh, yes! Let's do that!" exclaimed Weezie with shining eyes.
"If we could have Rod and Addie over, it would be more fun!" said Nat.
A little later, the four children were up in the big attic of the Happy Home. On the roof the pelting of the rain drops sounded more loudly, but Nat and the others did not mind that, for they were snug and dry, and in the attic were many things with which to play.
"There's an old rocker in the corner," said Rodney, pointing to a dust-covered one. "Is it the one named Racky, that your Grandma uses? Maybe she doesn't know it's up here."
"No, that's another chair. It has been here since before Grandma came to live with us," explained Nat. "But I'll pull it out and we can play it's a steamboat and take turns having rides. I'll be a steamboat engineer!"
"And I'll be the captain," offered Rod.
"What can we be?" inquired Addie.
"We'll be the passengers," suggested Weezie. "It's lots of fun to play steamboat with the old chair."
The two boys pulled it out, across the attic, and, as they did so, Nat pointed to two long, straight marks the rockers had made in the dust on the floor.
"Look!" he whispered.
"Well, what about it?" asked Rodney.
"Do you mean the rocker tracks look like twin snake marks?" inquired Weezie. "They do; don't they?"
"No, I didn't mean that," went on Nat, who had a queer look on his face as he stared at the dusty trail. "But don't you remember—the clump of weeds where Thump was barking yesterday? In the soft ground, near the weeds, were tracks just like these we made now, when we pulled the rocking chair across the floor."
"Well, what about that?" asked Rodney again.
"Why, don't you see!" went on Nat in a low voice, just a little bit excited, "these are the same marks. There must have been a rocker pulled along near the weeds."
"But it wasn't this rocker," objected Weezie.
"No, it was Grandma's rocker, I think!" went on Nat. "I wondered, when I saw them, what had made those marks near the weeds. Now I know! It was Grandma's rocker."
"But who would pull her rocker off across the back lots like that?" Addie asked.
Nat looked carefully around the attic before answering. And, when he did, it was in a whisper. He said:
"Nobody pulled Grandma's rocker along! It went there by itself, the same as our stove did! The rocker ran away, and we can tell where it went by following the tracks it left. We can get back Grandma's rocker and glasses. Come on!" His voice was eager and his eyes were shining bright.
"We can't go out in the rain," objected Weezie.
"It's stopped raining now," said Rod, looking out of the attic window.
And so it had. The early winter storm was over. But the sky was still cloudy.
"Maybe it will snow!" exclaimed Addie.
"That'll be fun!" came from Weezie. "I don't mind being out in the snow, but I don't like to get wet in the rain."
"Then let's go out and see if we can find that runaway rocker!" proposed Nat. "Mother won't mind. She wants it to be found, and so does Grandma. She needs her glasses very much."
"All right—we'll go!" decided Rod.
"We'll have lots of fun," added his sister. "And maybe some adventures like we did when we went after the gas stove. Oh, I'm so glad it stopped raining!"
The children hurried down out of the attic. They intended to tell Grandma, or Mother Marden, about what they had seen—the two marks in the dusty floor—marks that showed where a rocker had been dragged across—marks like those in the soft ground near the weed-clump. And Nat and Weezie intended to tell their mother that they were going out to find Racky and the lost glasses.
But when the children came down from the attic, neither their mother nor grandmother was to be seen. The ladies had gone next door to talk to Mrs. Trent, the mother of Addie and Rodney.
"Oh, well," said Nat, after Lizzie had told him where his mother was, "she won't mind if we go out. Come on!"
"Where are you going?" inquired the maid. "You must dress warmly, for it will be cold after the rain. Where are you going?"
"Oh—just out—to play," answered Nat. He did not want to say they were going to search for Racky, but that is just what the children intended to do.
"We'll find Grandma's glasses!" declared Nat as he led the others through the kitchen into the back yard, where they could go through the hole in the fence.
Now we shall see what happened to Racky when he slipped out of the cottage of the Singing Girl into the moonlit forest.
"I hope I don't make a noise and awaken the wood-chopper," thought the rocking chair as he softly swayed to and fro across the floor. "He would chase after me and bring me back if he thought I was going away. He thinks I dropped off a load of moving and slid down hill. But I didn't at all! I ran away! I know what I did."
The wood-chopper slept soundly after his day's work in the forest, and the Singing Girl did not open her eyes, as Racky softly slipped through the door.
"Now I am out again—free—ready for more adventures," laughed the chair to himself. "But I am not going to fall into you!" he said to the brook which was murmuring along beneath the trees.
"You may splash into me and swim, if you like," whispered the running brook. "But my waters are very chilling now, and you might catch cold."
"Thank you, then I will stay on dry land," said the rocking chair. "I am a traveler, but not a sailor. Though back in Happy Home, where I came from, is an old sofa who says he is some day going to sail away to sea."
"Is he?" asked the brook. "Well, that's wonderful! You know I, myself, run down to the great, salty sea."
"Oh, do you?" inquired the rocker. "I shall tell the sailing sofa about you when I go back. But no! I am never going back to be sat on by fat old Grandma!" creaked the rocker.
"Is your friend, the sofa, a sailor?" went on the brook.
"Well, he has never yet been to sea," Racky replied, "but he is always talking of going sailing, so I suppose he may, some day."
"Tell him I shall be glad to meet him," went on the brook. "And, if he likes, he may start his voyaging on my waters."
"I'll tell him, if ever I go back to Happy Home," promised the rocker, "but I think that will never be."
This talk was in whispers, for Racky did not want to awaken the Singing Girl nor the wood-chopper. Then, bidding the brook good-bye, the chair rocked on and on, traveling through the forest, which was now white and gleaming under the silvery moon.
All of a sudden, as Racky was swaying to and fro, his arms held stiffly to his sides, he heard a voice calling:
"Who? Who? Who?"
"Oh, dear! That is some one after me!" thought the rocker. "Maybe it is Grandma, or one of the children, or the policeman whom Thump saw coming. Or perhaps it is Thump himself! I hope it is!" Then Racky called: "Hello! Hello! Who are you?"
Down through the trees came the call again:
"Who? Who? Who?"
"What do you mean?" asked Racky. "Why do you ask who I am, when you will not tell me who are you? Who are you?"
"I am the owl bird," was the answer. "I was not asking who you were. I was just giving my night call of 'Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!' That was to let my little owls in the nest know I am coming to them, soon, with something to eat. Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!"
And away flew the owl bird on his big wings, while Racky, glad to know he was not being chased by a policeman, traveled on. All through the night the chair rocked away, getting farther and farther from the Happy Home.
At first it was bright moonlight in the woods, and, though it was cold, Racky rather liked it. But soon the moon hid behind the clouds. Then it began to rain and grew very dark.
"If this is an adventure, I do not like it at all!" sighed the runaway rocker. "I am going to get all wet and my legs and arms and joints will creak and squeak worse than ever. I wish I could find a house in which to stay."
Almost without knowing it, the chair was speaking aloud in his own language and, as he finished, he heard a voice say:
"Why don't you come in here?"
"In where?" asked Racky, for all he could see through the trees was a big blob of darkness, and the voice seemed to come from this.
"Come into this snug, dry cave," was the answer. "Then you will be out of the rain."
"Whose cave is it?" asked Racky, remembering to have heard Gassy tell of caves, or caverns, that the stove had seen in the sides of hills when he galloped away that time.
"It is the cave of all the Woodland Folk," was the answer. "Any one, who has no other home, is welcome to live in this cave as long as he likes."
"Well, I am traveling around, looking for adventures," said Racky. "I had a home, but I left it, so I shall be glad to come in out of the rain and stay all night. But who are you, if I may ask?"
"You may ask and I shall tell you," was the polite answer. "I am a wild pig and after my supper of acorns, last night, I crept into this cave to sleep. Come in, you are welcome!"
So Racky entered the dark cave in the side of the hill, beneath the trees from which dripped the cold rain drops. At first the chair could see nothing, but, after a while, he noticed a little glow, like a faint fire, in one corner of the cave. And, by the glow of this pale fire, the chair could see the wild pig curled up on a bed of dried leaves.
"That fire looks like the one which burns in Gassy, when Lizzie is doing the washing," said Racky, while he gave his cushions a shake to get the rain out of them. As he did so, something fell to the floor of the cave with a tinkle.
"What's that?" asked the wild pig, jumping around.
"Grandma's glasses, I guess," said the chair. "I hope they aren't broken. They were in my cushions when I ran away and I had no means of sending them back."
"No, they aren't broken," said the wild pig, who could see quite well in the dim cave. "Here they are," and he picked them up and gave them back to Racky, who tucked them in between the cushions again.
"Thanks," creaked the chair. "But is some one going to cook a meal, that I see a fire glowing?"
"No, that is fox-fire—it has no heat," explained the wild pig.
"Fox-fire?" cried Racky, wonderingly. "Are there foxes in here, and will they nibble my legs? Though my legs are only wood, I should not like to have them scratched or nibbled."
"Have no fear!" laughed the wild pig. "It is only called fox-fire because, in the olden days, foxes were supposed to see their way about in the forest by its light. It comes from old, punky, rotten wood and it only glows as pale and gently as you see it now. There is no danger. The fox-fire comes from an old rotten stump that has been in this cave longer than I can remember. But, even if a real fox came in this cave, out of the storm, he would do you no harm. We are all friends here. Now I am going to sleep again."
"And I will sleep, too," said Racky, who was glad to be in the cave out of the rain, which was now pattering down harder than ever. And so, in the soft glow of the fox-fire, Racky went to sleep.
It was still raining when he awakened in the morning, and a little daylight streamed into the cave. Before the gleam of the gray dawn the pale fox-fire seemed to fade away.
"But it will glow again when night comes," said the wild pig. Then, waddling over to the rocker, the pig asked: "Have you a garden rake about you?"
"A garden rake?" exclaimed Racky. "Why, no! I don't carry rakes! But why do you want one?"
"To scratch my back," grunted the pig. "You know we porkers always like to have our backs scratched, and I thought, if you had a rake, you could do it for me. But never mind—it doesn't matter."
"Oh, but it does!" exclaimed Racky. "I should like to do you a favor since you were so kind as to invite me into this cave out of the rain. And I believe I know how I can scratch your back."
"How can you?" asked the wild pig.
"With the sharp ends of my rockers," answered the chair. "Oh, do not be afraid," he went on with a laugh. "They are not sharp enough to cut you. But if you will lie down behind me, with your back toward the ends of my rockers, I will sway to and fro. The rocker ends will move up and down and scratch your back nicely."
"Oh, joy!" grunted the pig. "I do so need a back-scratch!"
Out he stretched behind the chair, close to the rocker ends. To and fro swayed Racky, and "scritchy-scratchy" went the somewhat sharp ends on the pig's back.
"Uff! Uff!" grunted the wild porker. "That feels fine! It gives me an appetite! Now I will go out and get a breakfast of acorns!"
"What, in all this rain?" exclaimed Racky.
"Oh, I don't mind the rain!" grunted the pig, and out he waddled.
Racky thought he was going to be lonesome in the cave, after the wild pig had left, but as the rain kept up, and it grew lighter in the dim cavern, the chair saw a small, gray animal come scampering in. It seemed to be in trouble.
"Oh, I can't do it! I can't do it!" chattered the small, gray chap.
"What can't you do?" asked Racky, who saw, now, that the animal was a squirrel.
"I can't crack this hard nut!" was the answer. "I've tried and I've tried, but the nut is too hard for me to crack or gnaw! You see I am only a this-year's squirrel," went on the bushy fellow. "When I grow older, I will know more about cracking nuts. But now I am so hungry, and I can't get at the meat in this one! Oh, dear!"
"I'll crack the nut for you," said Racky.
"What! You, a rocking chair, will crack a nut! How?" chattered the squirrel.
"Put the nut down on the floor of the cave," said the chair. "I will rock over it and crack the shell for you. It will be easy for me, as I am strong."
The squirrel placed the nut down on a low, flat rock. Racky swayed to and fro, traveling closer and closer, until one of the rockers was right over the shell. Then, suddenly:
"Crunch! Crack!"
"There you are—the nut is broken open!" cried Racky, and surely enough, it was.
"Oh, thank you!" chattered the gray squirrel as he began nibbling the sweet meat and casting aside the bits of broken shell.
Racky cracked several more nuts for the little chap, who then scampered out of the cave. The rocker was wishing the rain would stop, so he could travel on, when a white animal, larger than the squirrel, came hopping in, carrying in her paws a tiny, furry creature.
"Hush now! Go to sleep. Rock-a-bye-baby!" crooned the mother rabbit, for that is what this new animal was. "Go to sleep, my dear!"
"I don't want to go to sleep! I'm not sleepy!" whined the baby rabbit. "I'm going to stay awake for ever!"
"Oh, what is mother going to do with you?" sighed the grown-up rabbit. "Please go to sleep!"
"No! No!" whined the baby rabbit.
Racky felt sorry for the mother bunny, who looked so tired out and bedraggled from the rain.
"If you will put your little baby girl rabbit up on my soft cushions I will rock her to sleep," kindly offered the chair.
"Oh, that is so good of you," said the mother rabbit.
"But I'm not going to sleep!" whined the cross, peevish little bunny.
"We'll see about that, my dear," murmured the old, brown chair, who more than once, when they were small, had rocked Nat and Weezie to sleep in their mother's arms.
The mother bunny put the little rabbit up on the chair's soft cushions. They were snug and warm, The teeny, weeny bunny cuddled down as if in a little nest.
"But I'm not going to sleep!" she said.
Slowly, to and fro, Racky commenced to sway. To and fro he rocked, gently, gently, gently. The mother bunny crooned a little song.
"I'm not—going—not going to—I'm not going—to—to—I'm not————going," murmured the baby bunny.
And then, all of a sudden, she fell asleep in the rocker.
"I'm so glad," sighed the tired mother bunny. Then she, too, cuddled up on Racky's cushions and went to sleep.
It was noon when the little bunny child awakened, no longer cross or tired after her slumber.
"The rain has stopped," said Mrs. Rabbit. "Come, Hopper, we shall go out and get a bit of cabbage to nibble." And away they scampered, after thanking Racky.
"Well, if the rain is over," murmured the chair, which he could see was the case, by looking out of the cave, "if the rain is over, I must travel on and find more adventures. I haven't had half enough!"
Away rocked Racky, away from the cave, off through the forest. The rain had stopped, but it was getting colder. All of a sudden it began to snow! The air was filled with white, swirling flakes.
"Oh!" cried the runaway rocker, "I don't like this! The rain was bad, but the snow is worse! What shall I do! I must find shelter!" And off through the snow-storm rocked the chair as fast as it could go.
"What will happen next?" thought Racky.
Racky, the runaway rocker, swayed out of the cave where he had scratched the back of the wild pig, where he had cracked the nut for the squirrel and where he had rocked the baby rabbit to sleep. It was just about the same time that Nat and the other children started to search for the missing chair.
"What shall we do with Racky if we find him?" asked Weezie of her brother, as the four slipped through the hole in the fence and ran across the lots.
"Well bring him back to Grandma, of course," answered Nat.
"Do you think her glasses will be in the chair cushions?" asked Addie.
"I hope so," was Nat's answer. "For without her glasses Grandma can't read us any stories. Yes, I think the glasses will be in the cushions when we find the chair," he decided.
"Oh, but don't you remember?" suddenly called Weezie, as the children hurried toward the clump of weeds where they had seen the strange marks.
"Don't we remember what?" asked Nat.
"About the runaway gas stove," went on Weezie. "That had a lot of good things to eat in the warming oven when it ran away. But when we found it in the woods, and the elephant brought it home on his back, there wasn't a single thing left—not a single thing!"
"Oh, well, that was different," said Nat. "Hungry people must have eaten what was in the gas stove—that was all right!"
"You can't eat glasses!" said Rodney.
"That's true!" agreed his chum. "Nobody will take Grandma's glasses out of the chair cushions. You'll see—we'll find them!"
"I hope we do," murmured Addie, for she and her brother loved the dear old lady, who lived next door to them, almost as much as did Nat and Weezie.
Skipping along over the vacant lots, still damp and spongy from the rain, which had only just stopped, the children soon reached the big clump of weeds where Nat had noticed the two marks of the chair's rockers in the soft earth. The marks were just like those made when the old chair in the attic was dragged through the dust.
"Maybe the marks will all be washed away by the rain," suggested Rodney.
"They were deep in the ground," answered Nat, "and I guess we'll see part of 'em." And so it turned out. On the edge of the patch of weeds, and straggling through them, so that some of the stalks were bent down and broken, were the tracks made when Racky ran away from Thump. Though the rain had washed away some of the chair's trail, still it was plain enough for the children to see.
"Come on!" cried Nat, joyfully excited. "The chair was here all right! Now all we'll have to do will be to follow these marks and we'll find Racky. Come on!"
He led the way, followed by the others who were quite as happily excited as he was. It would be wonderful to find the runaway rocker and Grandma's glasses, the children thought.
"How far do you think we'll have to go!" asked Weezie, when they had followed the chair's trail quite a distance over the lot.
"Oh, not very far, I guess," answered her brother. "Why, don't you want to come?"
"Yes, of course I want to come," replied Weezie. "But I don't want to go too far from home."
"I don't, either," said Addie. "And it looks like it was going to rain some more." She glanced up at the clouds.
"I guess it will snow," declared her brother. "It's getting colder."
"If it snows, it will be lots of fun, and we can find Racky easier," stated Nat.
"How?" asked Rodney.
"Why, the tracks will be plainer in the snow," said Nat. "And we can slide down hill, too, after we find the chair and take Grandma's glasses back to her. Let's run! I can see where the chair has been along here," and he pointed to the marks in the soft ground—marks that looked as if a two-wheeled cart had been hauled along there. They were the tracks of Racky's rockers, plain enough.
Forward ran the children, laughing and shouting until, all of a sudden, Addie exclaimed:
"Hark! Some one is calling us!"
They stopped to listen. They heard a noise behind them. Then Rodney began to laugh.
"That's our dog Thump," he said. "We forgot to take him with us, and he's following after."
"Good! Let him come!" decided Nat. "He can smell along the track, where it only shows faint, and help us find Racky."
"Come on, Thump! Help us find Racky!" and Rod pointed to the marks on the ground.
Thump knew what this meant, of course. He could tell that the rocking chair had come this way, and now Thump knew the children were seeking Racky. What should Thump do?
"I can lead those children on the wrong trail, away from where Racky went, and tease them off into the deep woods, where they can never find that chair," thought Thump to himself. "I can do that, or I can lead them straight to where Racky is hiding. He cannot be far off, for he is a slow rocker."
Then Thump thought again:
"If I lead the children to Racky, he will never forgive me, for he does not want to be found and brought back to Happy Home. But winter is coming on, there will be snow and ice, soon. Racky may catch cold in his legs. I think it will be best if the children find him and bring him home. After all, he may thank me for it. Perhaps Grandma Marden will not sit on him so hard after he comes back. Yes, I'll lead the children to Racky!"
Having thus made up his mind to do something that, perhaps, the chair might not like, at first, Thump just went ahead and did it. He sniffed at the tracks and started off on a run, barking loudly.
"Come on!" shouted Rodney, who knew, by these signs, that his dog was "on the trail," as it is called. "Thump will lead us just where the chair went! Now we'll find it!"
"And Grandma's glasses, too, I hope!" murmured Weezie, as she and Addie followed the two boys.
Thump ran quite fast, and so did Nat and Rod. The girls tried to keep up with their brothers, but it was hard work. Once Addie fell down, and bruised her knees, but she got up again, without crying, and hurried on. And once Weezie's dress caught on a bramble bush and was torn. But Rodney happened to have a safety pin in his pocket, so the dress was mended, after a fashion, and the chase kept up.
The children, led by the dog, reached the top of the hill, down which Racky had coasted. Here the trail was so faint that the children could not see it on the grass. But with Thump along, to sniff at the track left by the chair, they were able to follow.
Down the hill, and up to the cottage of the Singing Girl, Thump led the way. The dog was barking loudly and the Singing Girl opened the door.
"Oh, hello, Children and Dog!" she greeted them, pausing in her song. "What do you want?"
"We are after a runaway rocking chair," answered Nat.
"Have you seen it?" asked Rodney, politely taking off his cap, which Nat did, also, a moment later.
"Oh, yes," replied the Singing Girl. "Yesterday I found a brown rocking chair outside our door. It came sliding down the hill, and I lassoed it with a towel and took it inside."
"Is it there now?" asked Weezie eagerly, "and has it cushions on with Grandma's glasses in?"
"The chair had cushions," answered the Singing Girl, "but it is gone, now. Some one came in the night and took it."
"No," said Nat, slowly shaking his head, "no one took the chair away. It ran off by itself, just as it did from our house."
"Why, I never heard of such a thing!" exclaimed the Singing Girl, with a laugh. "A runaway rocking chair! Truly, though, I saw it come sliding down hill, but I thought it had fallen off some moving wagon!"
"No, it ran away from us and it ran away from you," explained Nat. "Well, we are on Racky's trail, anyhow. He has been here and gone away. Come on!" he cried.
"Go ahead, Thump!" ordered his master, and the dog, who had been impatiently leaping around, for he knew the chair was no longer in the cottage, started off through the woods.
"I hope you find Racky!" the Singing Girl called to the children, as they ran along after Thump. Then she went back in the cottage, humming a little tune.
On and on through the woods Thump led Nat and the others on the trail of Racky. Well it was that the children had the dog along for, without him, they never would have been able to follow Racky's winding trail.
But Thump led them to the cave in the side of the hill, where the chair had slept the second night. There were the marks of his rockers going in, and the marks of his rockers coming out.
"Racky isn't in there," reported Nat and Rod, who ventured into the dim cavern, which Weezie and Addie would not do.
The wild pig, whose back had been so kindly scratched by the chair, the squirrel for whom Racky had cracked a nut, and the mother rabbit whose little bunny had been rocked to sleep, were no longer in the cave, so they could not tell the children where Racky had gone.
"But Thump will find him!" declared Rodney. "Go on!" he called to his pet, and the dog, looking back to see that the children were following, led the way deeper into the forest.
And then, all of a sudden, it began to snow. The storm swooped down over the children, just as it had done over Racky, who was swaying his way along, hardly knowing where he was going or what to do.
But while Racky did not like the swirling, white flakes, the children did, laughing and shouting in glee as they felt the melting, white crystals cool their warm, red cheeks.
"Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" they shouted. "It's snowing! It's snowing! Soon it will be Thanksgiving and Christmas! Santa Claus will come with his sleigh and reindeer when it snows! Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!"
But as the snow came down thicker and faster, the children could not see which way to go. They were in the middle of the woods. Even Thump did not know what to do, for now he could no longer sniff at the track, or trail, made by the runaway rocker. The snow had quite covered it.
"I thought it would be easier in the snow, but it's harder," said Nat.
"What are we going to do?" asked his sister. "I like the snow, but I don't want to be lost in the storm."
"I guess we'd better go home," murmured Addie.
"Yes," agreed Weezie. "Do you know which way home is?" she inquired of her brother.
"Well, not exactly," Nat replied. "But I guess Rod knows."
"No, I don't, either," confessed Rodney. "But I'm sure Thump does! Hi, Thump!" he called to his pet. "Take us home!"
But, instead of barking, and rushing off through the storm as he should have done, Thump drooped his tail between his legs and whimpered, cuddling close to Rodney's legs.
"Oh, he's afraid of something!" whispered Addie. "Thump doesn't know how to lead us home. He's lost, too, and he's afraid of something!"
Truly, the dog did act strange, and as if a little fearful of what was going to happen. The wind was howling and moaning through the bare branches of the trees. The snow flakes were swirling down thicker than ever. All about the children was a pale, frosty mist through which they could see nothing.
Suddenly Weezie whispered:
"I hear some one coming!"
They all listened. Above the noise of the storm they could hear the breaking and snapping of twigs and branches on the ground, as heavy feet trod on them.
"Maybe it's the circus elephant coming for us," said Addie in a low voice.
"Elephants don't come out in winter," declared Nat. "It's too cold for them."
"Oh, look!" cried Weezie. "See there!"
She pointed off among the trees and there, walking through the storm, toward the children, was a little old woman, wrapped in a big fur coat. She tramped over the snow and over the underbrush like a man.
"Come with me!" cried the old woman, waving her hands toward the children. "Come with me and bring your dog!"
"COME WITH ME!" CRIED THE OLD WOMAN."COME WITH ME!" CRIED THE OLD WOMAN.
And, hardly knowing why they did so, the children followed the strange woman through the storm, with Thump whining and keeping close to Rodney and Nat.
For Racky, caught out in the snow storm, just as the children had been, did not know what to do. The cold, white flakes swirled around his legs, and fell on his stiff, wooden arms, chilling him all the way into his glue, by which he was held together.
"If the snow gets into my cracks, it will melt, and be just like rain," thought Racky as he swayed along. "Then I shall fall apart! Or I shall get the rheumatism, and creak worse, than when fat Grandma sits on me! Oh, dear! I almost wish I had not run away!"
He found that he could travel faster though, with the snow on the ground. For he would rock a little way, then suddenly stop, and he would slide ahead ten feet or more, just as children do on a slippery place.
"Well, there is something good in the snow, anyhow," said the chair to himself. "I can go very fast on it."
But it was getting colder, and the flakes were now so thick that Racky could hardly see more than a little distance in front of him. Once, after a slide, he bumped into an evergreen tree, whose thick branches were white with the crystal flakes.
"Whoa there!" exclaimed the tree. "Where are you going, chair?"
"Oh, excuse me!" murmured Racky. "I am so sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you. But I am running away, and the snow blinded me!"
"That is quite all right," sighed the evergreen tree, kindly. "I have often thought, myself, that I would like to run away. But I am rooted fast in the ground and must stay here forever. Tell me, is it nice to run away?"
"It was at first," answered Racky, "but I am not so sure about it, now. I have had some wonderful adventures, and I may have more. But just now the snow is sifting down my back and I fear—a-ker-choo!" he suddenly sneezed. "I fear I am catching a—ker-snitzio—I beg your pardon—I fear I am catching cold!"
"I am quite certain of it," said the tree. "But if you want shelter from the storm, rock yourself in beneath my thick branches."
"Thank you, I will," said Racky, noticing that the low-hanging boughs of the evergreen tree made a sort of tent.
Even during the short time the chair had been standing still, talking to the tree, the snow had drifted over his rockers, so that now, when he wanted to move again he found it not easy. But he swayed to and fro, and, at last, managed to get in beneath the thick, green branches.
It was warmer there, almost as warm and sheltered as it had been in the cave, and Racky was thinking he could stay there until the storm was over, when, all of a sudden, he sneezed again:
"Ker-choo! Ker-foo! Ker-snitzio!"
"Oh, that isn't so good!" sighed the tree. "You have sneezed three times at once."
"What is that a sign of?" asked Racky.
"I should say it was a sign that you now have a cold, and ought to be in a snug, warm place, near a blazing, hot fire," answered the tree. "I fear it is a bit breezy out here, even under my thick, green branches."
This was quite true, and then, as Racky stood there, shivering in spite of the warm cushions, all at once a shower of snow fell on him.
"Oh!" cried the chair.
"It's too bad, but it can't be helped," said the evergreen. "You see my branches are covered with snow, and when the wind blows it shakes the snow off so that it falls on you. I am very sorry!"
"I am catching more—a-ker-choo—more cold!" sneezed the chair. "Is there no place, Tree, where I could be warm and sheltered? Is there no place where I can go in, to be away from the storm? After it is over I shall keep on adventuring."
The evergreen thought for a moment and then, as the wind again shook its branches, sifting more snow down on poor Racky, the tree said:
"Just beyond this patch of woods, where I am rooted, is a little house."
"Oh, a little house!" murmured Racky. "That sounds comforting! And is there a fire in the little house?"
"There must be," answered the evergreen, "a warm, blazing fire. For a little old woman lives in the house and, each day, she comes here to the forest to gather up sticks for her fire. So it must be warm there."
"I wish I could go in the little house," sighed Racky.
"Why don't you?" asked the tree. "I am glad to have you here, under me, but I cannot help sifting snow on you when the wind blows. And it is too breezy for one who is catching cold. The little old woman is kind. I am sure she will let you come in her house."
"Then I am going there, thank you," said Racky, who was now shivering so that he almost shook Grandma's glasses out from between the cushions. "How can I find the little house?" he asked.
"Bock yourself straight through the woods until you come to a big rock," answered the tree. "Around the corner of that rock stands the house of the little old woman."
And so, with many thanks to the kind evergreen, Racky swayed out from beneath the sheltering branches into the storm again. The wind was blowing harder now, and the snow was swirling down more thickly. It was all the chair could do to slide along. But he held his wooden arms stiffly to his sides, and swayed forward until he came within sight of the big rock, and then he noticed the little house.
Just as Racky looked, he saw the little old woman, in the big fur coat, leading four children and a dog into her cottage. At the sight of them, the chair shrunk back behind the shelter of the great rock.
"The tree said nothing about children and a dog," murmured the chair. "I wonder if this is the right house? I couldn't see those boys and girls very well, nor the dog, either. But if they are going to live in the cottage, there may be no room for me."
Then the runaway rocker thought of something else.
"I wonder if they could be the children from the Happy Home where I used to live?" mused Racky. "I wonder if they could be Nat and Weezie, with Rodney and Addie? And perhaps that dog was Thump. But—no—they would not be so far from home in the storm. They must be some other children. I will wait a bit, and then I will knock on the door. The little old woman may be kind enough to take me in."
But, though Racky was not certain of it, those children were the very ones he had mentioned—Nat and his sister, Rodney and Addie, and Thump the dog. The little old woman had seen them in the storm-swept woods.
"What are you doing out in the snow?" she had asked them.
"We are trying to find our runaway rocking chair, with Grandma's glasses in," answered Nat. He and the other children were no longer frightened, nor worried about being lost in the storm, once they had seen, through the mist of swirling flakes, the kind face of the little old woman.
"A runaway rocking chair!" she laughed. "I never heard of such a thing, though I know about lost glasses, for I often lose my own. But come to my house out of the storm!"
She led the way, and soon the children were snug and warm in the cottage. Racky had seen them go in, but, as I have told you, he was not certain that they were the same children whom he knew. So he stood there in the storm, not knowing what to do.
It did not take the little old woman long to draw chairs up to the bright, blazing fire on the hearth, so the children could sit in them and get warm. Thump, the dog, curled up in a round ball on the hearth, as near the blaze as he dared to go without burning his tail.
"Now, would you like something to eat?" asked the little old woman.
"Oh—would we?" murmured the boys, while the girls bashfully whispered:
"Oh, yes, very much indeed!"
"Then here you are!" cried the little old woman, and she set on the table a plate of molasses cookies and a pitcher of milk, with four glasses. Thump looked up from his place on the hearth, hungrily sniffing.
"You shall have your share, too," said the little old lady. "I have a juicy bone in my cupboard for you!"
Soon Thump was gnawing the bone, and the children were eating cookies and drinking milk. The little old lady sat in a deep, easy chair near the blazing fire and said:
"Now tell me more about yourselves, my dears; and this strange story about the runaway rocker. Also, tell me where you live, and I will try to think of a way to send you home, though I cannot take you myself. Tell me all about it."
But before any of them could answer, Weezie, with a queer little, catching sound in her breath, pointed to a window and exclaimed:
"Look! There's Santa Claus!"
And through the glass, a white frame of snow around his face, the other children could see an old man, with apple-red cheeks and long, white whiskers, peering in at them.
"Oh, it is Santa Claus!" murmured Addie, and she dropped a piece of cookie into her glass of milk with a little ploppy splash!
"Come out here a minute, Mrs. Chimney!" called the red-cheeked, old man as he tapped on the snow-covered window. "Come out here, and see what this is, Mrs. Chimney!"
"If that is Santa Claus, why doesn't he come in?" asked Weezie.
"Maybe he's afraid of us," suggested Addie. "Santa Claus doesn't like children to see him."
"Oh, no, it isn't that!" laughed the little old woman.
"And why does he call you Mrs. Chimney?" asked Rodney.
"Maybe he said he wanted to get down the chimney," suggested Nat. "That's what Santa Claus always wants to do; though it isn't Christmas yet, nor even Thanksgiving. But he saidsomethingabout a chimney."
And the white-whiskered man tapped on the snow-covered pane again, and called:
"Come out, Mrs. Chimney! Come out!"
"He calls me Mrs. Chimney, just for fun, because he once mended my chimney when the wind blew off some bricks," explained the little old woman. "But Chimney isn't really my name."
"Is Santa Claushisname?" asked Weezie, who was now not quite so sure of her first guess, since she could neither see any reindeer nor any pack on the old man's back.
"No, he isn't Santa Claus, though he looks like the kind old Saint, my dears," said Mrs. Chimney, as she had been called. "But I must go out and see what he wants."
She opened the door of her cottage. The red-cheeked, old man left the window and stood on the front steps, as the children could see when the door was open. They could also see something else. They held their breaths in wonderment.
"Oh, see!" murmured Weezie, pointing a trembling finger.
But before the others could gasp out their surprises, the old man exclaimed:
"Look, Mrs. Chimney, coming through the storm I saw this old rocking chair sliding along. It slid right up to your door and seemed about to knock. Perhaps it wants to come in out of the snow. I thought I'd better tell you. The chair rocked itself down the hill, from around the edge of the big rock."
"You mean the wind blew it," said Chimney with a smile. "A chair can't rock itself down hill."
"Oh, yes it can! This chair can!" cried Nat. "This is our chair, Racky, that ran away. That's the chair we have been looking for!" He was all excited, and so were the other children.
"Yes, that's Racky!" echoed Weezie.
The children crowded to the open door, through which the late afternoon wind blew little flakes of snow.
"It's your Grandmother's rocking chair!" added Rod. "Sure it is!"
"And here are her glasses!" cried Addie, slipping her hand in between the cushions, and taking out the spectacles.
"Well, I do declare!" cried Mrs. Chimney, looking wonderingly at the boys and girls. Thump shuffled out on the steps and barked a welcome to his old friend Racky, saying:
"I am sorry you can't run away any more. I led the children on your trail. I hope you will forgive me."
"It's all right," said Racky. "I'll forgive you. I'm glad they have found me. Or, rather, I am glad I came where the children were. I couldn't stand it to be out in the storm any longer. I was catching cold, and getting a pain in my legs and back. It wasn't your fault, Thump. I saw the children come in here, though, at first, I didn't believe they were the ones I knew. And I wasn't sure it was you, Thump. But I am tired of running away and having adventures. I have had enough. I am ready to go back to Happy Home!"
"I'm glad," barked the dog. "We'll all go together."
Of course this talk between Thump and Racky was not heard by the children, nor by Mrs. Chimney nor by Santa Claus, as the boys and girls still called the old man.
"This chair must have fallen off a moving wagon in the storm, and the wind blew it along, so you thought it was rocking itself," said Mrs. Chimney, making the same mistake as had the Singing Girl.
"I saw that chair, ma'am, as plainly as I see you, shuffle along until it got to your door," declared Santa Claus. "It was going to knock with its rockers or arms, I verily believe, so you would take it in."
"Nonsense!" laughed Mrs. Chimney.
"Oh, but it's true!" exclaimed Nat. "The chair ran away."
"Just like our gas stove," added Weezie.
"Well, have it as you like," said Mrs. Chimney with a laughing look at Santa Claus. "But I am sure of one thing, and that is you children ran away, or walked away, from home, and your folks will be worried."
"Yes, they may be," admitted Rodney.
"We'd like to go home, though it's lovely here," said Addie, politely.
"And I can take you home, if you don't mind riding in a rattle-bang," said the old man who looked like Santa Claus, though he really wasn't.
"What's a rattle-bang?" Nat wanted to know.
"It's an old rattling, banging trap of a wagon, hauled by an old, bony horse, that I drive around collecting rags in," explained Santa Claus, which, though they knew he wasn't, the children always, afterward, called him. "I'm a sort of a junker," he went on, "and my wagon is a rattle-bang. But my horse is strong, if he is bony, and my wagon has a cover on, to keep out the snow. So, if you would like to ride with me, I'll take you home."
"Do you know where we live?" asked Rodney.
"Oh, yes," was the answer. "I have often passed your houses, and seen you children playing in the street. I can take you home. It isn't far from here. Just down the lane and across the fields."
"I'll drive my wagon around," promised the red-cheeked man. "It will be here in a minute!"
Off he shuffled, through the snow, and soon the children heard a rattling, banging sound as the bony horse drew the junk wagon up to the door of Mrs. Chimney's cottage. First, into the wagon was lifted Racky, for he would have found it hard, stiff and cold as he was, to climb up by himself. Then in leaped Thump, cuddling down on the chair's warm seat cushion. Then in climbed the children.
"Gid-dap!" cried Santa Claus to his bony horse and away he started through the storm.
"Come and see me again, sometime, my dears!" invited Mrs. Chimney.
"We will!" promised Nat, Rodney, Weezie and Addie. "We will!"
And so, riding in the rattle-bang, through the storm, they reached their homes just about supper time. Mr. and Mrs. Marden and Mr. and Mrs. Trent were then getting worried about the children, and were thinking of having Policeman Paddock go in search of them.
"But here they are, safe and sound!" cried Santa Claus, as he stopped his bony horse and rattle-bang wagon.
"Where in the world have you been?" asked Mrs. Marden.
"We went after Racky, the runaway rocker, and we found him!" cried Nat in a jolly voice.
"And we found Grandma's glasses, too!" added Weezie, holding up the spectacles.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the fat old lady. "They are my glasses! But you never can make me believe that Racky ran away by himself! A tramp took him, and left him in the field where you found him; that's how it happened! I know!"
"But, Grandma," said Weezie as Rod and Addie, with their dog Thump, hurried over to their own house, "we found Racky at Mrs. Chimney's cottage!"
"And he was just about to knock on the door, so she would take him in out of the storm," said Santa Claus.
"Stuff and nonsense! Stuff and nonsense!" laughed Grandma. "But I am delighted to have back my old rocker and my glasses," and, sitting very gently down in the chair, so that it creaked hardly at all, the old lady swayed to and fro, and, putting on her glasses, began to read the paper.
The snow rattled on the windows.
"Well, I'm glad you children are safe home out of the storm," said their father as he thanked Santa Claus for bringing them back.
And that night, when all was still and quiet in Happy Home, the chair called down the stairs to Gassy in the laundry:
"I had some wonderful adventures. I'll tell you about them sometime."
"Yes, do," invited the gas stove. "But not now. I am going to sleep."
"So am I," murmured Racky.
And so, for a time, the strange happenings in Happy Home came to an end, but not for very long. Because, shortly after that, as you may read in the next book of this series, there were other queer events. I shall tell you about them in a new story, to be called: "Adventures of the Traveling Table," and I hope you will like it.
The next day Grandma rocked to and fro in her chair, and polished her glasses, ready to bake another cake.
"They tell me you ran away," she said to Racky, just as if he could understand, which he could, though the old lady didn't know it. "They tell me you ran away! Nonsense! A tramp took you!"
But we know better than that; don't we?
THE END