CHAPTER VI
THE LONELY CABIN
Mrs. Bobbsey’s voice showed that she was in earnest, so her husband lost no time in guiding the car to the side of the road, to be out of the way of passing autoists, and then he brought it to a quick stop with a grinding and squeaking of the brakes.
“Now what is it?” he asked, turning back to look at his wife.
“I said there was some strange animal—maybe more than one of them—in our car!”
“How could there be?” asked Mr. Bobbsey with a laugh. “That is, unless you call the twins animals, and they are—in a way.”
“No, I don’t mean them,” answered his wife. “Oh!” she gave a little scream. “They’re crawling around my feet. And listen to them!”
Now that it was quiet, Mr. Bobbsey, too,could hear a faint whimpering sound. By this time Flossie and Freddie, who had dozed off into a sleepy little nap after lunch, awakened. They sat up, rubbed their eyes, and Flossie cried:
“What we stopping for? Are we at Cloverbank? I don’t see any clover or any bank, either!”
“We stopped because your mother thought she felt and heard some kind of an animal in the car,” explained Mr. Bobbsey, who did not know quite what it was all about, for he could see nothing as he looked over into the rear of the machine. But that he could see nothing was not to be wondered at, for the space was piled with luggage, robes, and things the children had brought with them, so there was scarcely room for Mrs. Bobbsey and the two small twins.
“I didn’tthinkI felt or heard something!” said the children’s mother in firm tones. “Ifeltsomething andheardsomething, and I feel it now! What is it?”
Then Freddie spoke up and said:
“I guess maybe it’s the kittens!”
“Yes,” agreed Flossie, with a little smile.“It must be the kittens you feel, Mother. And I can hear them mewing now. Can’t you hear the kittens mewing, Freddie?”
“Sure I can!” was the reply.
“Kittens? Kittens? What kittens?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“It’s the five little kittens Flossie and I put in a box and brought along with us,” explained Freddie. “I guess they got out and it’s them crawling over your feet, Mother.”
“Five kitties can mew a whole lot,” added Flossie.
“Five kittens! What in the world do the children mean?” cried Mrs. Bobbsey. She reached down into the midst of the baggage and other things and brought up a pasteboard box containing one lonely little kitten.
“I guess the other four are crawling around down there,” said Freddie calmly. “There were five of them; weren’t there, Flossie?”
“Yes, five,” answered the little girl.
“I can feel them!” sighed Mrs. Bobbsey. “Oh, my goodness!” She reached down again, and one at a time, brought up four more kittens from the bottom of the car. She put them in the box with the other.
“Oh, aren’t they cute!” cried Nan.
“One’s almost as black as Snoop!” said Bert.
“Where in the world did you children get these kittens?” asked their mother.
“Back at the farmhouse,” replied Freddie. “We thought we better have some animals to take out to Cloverbank in case Mr. Watson hasn’t any, so Flossie and I put these five kittens in the box and put them in our car.”
“There were six,” added Flossie; “but we left one with the mother cat so she wouldn’t be lonesome.”
“Do you mean you youngsters packed these cats up back at the farmhouse where we got the milk?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.
“Yes, Daddy,” assented Freddie. “We did.”
“But don’t you know that was a wrong thing to do?” reproved his mother. “These kittens weren’t yours to take. They belong to some one at the farm where they were so kind to us.”
“Yes,” answered Flossie calmly. “They belong to the red-haired boy there. I asked him if the kittens were his and he said they were. Then Freddie asked him if we couldhave them and he said we could. Didn’t he, Freddie?”
“That’s what he did,” was the answer. “So we took them.”
“Well, I should say you did!” and now Mrs. Bobbsey could not help laughing. “But why didn’t you ask me if you could do this?”
“We—now—we didn’t want to bother you, because you always have so much to think about when we go on vacations,” explained Freddie.
“So we just took the kittens,” added his sister.
“Um! Yes! Well, we’ll have to take them right back,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “Perhaps that red-haired boy didn’t know what he was talking about, children, when he said you could have the kittens. They may not have been his to give away, and the farmer or his wife may want them to catch mice in the barn. Yes, we must take the kittens back!”
“Oh, couldn’t we please keep just one?” begged Flossie.
“The little black one that looks like Snoop!” pleaded Freddie.
But both Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey were firm—thekittens must go back where they came from.
“Though it will delay you to turn about and go to the farm, won’t it?” Mrs. Bobbsey asked her husband.
“A little,” he replied. “But it cannot be helped. However, the roads are good and we can make a little faster time the remainder of the day. I wish we didn’t have to, but I feel that it is the best thing to do—take the kittens back.”
Flossie and Freddie felt a bit sad over this, and even Bert and Nan would have liked one of the pets. But they thought their father and mother knew best.
“Very likely Mr. Watson will have plenty of animals at Cloverbank,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, to console the sorrowing small twins.
“And, anyhow, there’s the baby,” said Nan.
“That’s so,” agreed Flossie. “I guess maybe it’s better that we don’t keep the kittens, Freddie. They might mew in the night and wake up Baby May—I mean Baby Jenny.”
“I guess so,” assented her twin brother.
So the auto was turned about and the return trip made in good time. The farm ladywas rather surprised to see the travelers again.
“Did you come back for more milk?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” said Mr. Bobbsey, with a laugh. “We came to return some of your property that my small twins thoughtlessly took.”
“My property!” exclaimed the lady. And how she laughed when Mrs. Bobbsey handed her the pasteboard box of kittens! “Oh, my land sakes! You could have kept these, and welcome!” she said. “We have all the cats we want.”
“I’m afraid we could hardly look after them,” explained Mrs. Bobbsey. “Thank you, just the same. Dear me, when I felt them wiggling at my feet, I couldn’t imagine what they were!”
“I can well believe that,” said the farm lady. “Well, I’ll give old Mary back her family,” and she restored to the mother cat the squirming, hungry kittens and Flossie and Freddie viewed with delight how eager the five were to snuggle down in the warm basket with the one little pussy that had not been taken away.
“Now you haven’t hidden any more animalsin the car, have you?” asked Mr. Bobbsey, as he made ready to start again.
“No more,” declared the small twins, and Mrs. Bobbsey looked to make sure no stray puppy had crawled in among the things.
Perhaps, because Mr. Bobbsey was in a hurry to make up the time and distance lost by returning to the farmhouse, he missed a side road altogether, or perhaps it was because he took a wrong turn at some crossroad in the journey, but certain it was that, late in the afternoon when he came to a signboard and read the names of the towns printed on it, he said:
“We must have come the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?” asked his wife.
“We aren’t on the road to Hitchville,” was the answer. “To get there we have to pass through Midvale, and this sign doesn’t say anything about that place. I must have taken a wrong turn.”
“It is getting late, too,” remarked his wife.
“No harm is done, though,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “I will ask the first person I meet which is the best road to Midvale. Once we are there, I can easily find the way to Hitchville.”
“Shall we get there to-night?” asked Nan.
“Why, of course we shall,” declared her father.
As a matter of fact, he concluded later that he was not as sure of this as he wished he could be. But there was only one thing to do, and that was to go on until they met another autoist or some one of whom they could inquire.
For a mile or so the road was deserted. But presently, on making a turn, the Bobbseys saw coming toward them a farmer, driving a bony horse drawing a rickety old wagon.
“Hello there!” called Mr. Bobbsey, halting his car.
“Whoa—up!” the man directed his horse, and the animal seemed glad enough to stop. “Afternoon, stranger,” greeted the farmer. “Are you looking for some one?”
“I’m looking for the road to Midvale, so I can get to Hitchville,” explained Mr. Bobbsey. “Or perhaps you know of a short cut to Hitchville.”
The farmer shook his head.
“No, there isn’t any short cut,” he said. “You’ll have to go to Midvale, as that’s the only place where there’s a bridge over theriver within ten miles. But you’re ’way off the road to Midvale, even—’way off!”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” commented Mr. Bobbsey. “What shall I do?”
The farmer considered matters for a moment and then replied:
“Well, if I was you I’d keep right on this road until you get to the next highway. Turn to the right there and keep on for about five miles and you’ll come to the road that takes you to Midvale. After that you’ll be all right.”
“Yes, after that I’ll be all right,” agreed Mr. Bobbsey. “But how about this road and the next—are they pretty good?”
“The roads are good enough,” replied the farmer, as he looked at the Bobbsey twins. “But they’re quite lonesome. However, you can go faster in that machine than I can in mine, and it won’t take you long. Good luck to you! You’ve got quite a load of boys and girls there,” he commented.
“Yes, quite a load, thank you,” answered Mr. Bobbsey.
“We had five kittens, only we had to take them back,” piped up Flossie.
“Did you? Well, I’ve got a batch of ’emout at my place I’ll let you have,” chuckled the farmer. “Just keep right along as I told you an’ you’ll come out all right. G’lang!” he called to his horse, and with a nod he drove by, while Mr. Bobbsey, with a word of thanks, let in the clutch and away they rode once more.
“It’s too bad!” murmured Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Are we lost?” asked Freddie, half hoping they were.
“Of course not!” laughed his father. “We’ll soon be in Midvale, and it isn’t far from there to Hitchville. We’ll be all right. But I don’t call this a very good road,” he went on, as he had to slow up over a rough and rutty place.
The farmer’s idea of good roads did not seem to be the same as Mr. Bobbsey’s, and the farther they went the worse the way became, until in one place it was necessary to drop into second speed to get through a stretch of deep sand.
It was now getting late in the afternoon, and they had not yet come to the road which, the farmer said, led to Midvale. Then, to make matters worse, all at once there was a sharp hiss of escaping air.
“Puncture!” cried Bert.
“So it is!” sighed his father. “Well, luckily we have a spare on, and it won’t take long to change.”
But it took longer than he thought, for the road was sandy, and the jack, for lifting up the car so the tire could be changed, sank deeply into the soft earth. By the time some boards and flat stones had been found to put under the jack, it was getting dusk.
“You’ll hardly have the tire changed before it’s dark,” said Mrs. Bobbsey with a look around the lonely road.
“I’m afraid not,” agreed her husband. “But we can drive after dark, you know.”
“I don’t like it much—on strange roads,” she said. “I wish there were some place where we could stay, but there doesn’t seem to be.”
Nan, who had gotten out to walk around with Flossie and Freddie while Bert helped his father, now came back with the small twins in time to hear what her mother said.
“There’s a house just around the turn in the road where we might stay,” said Nan.
“A house?” inquired her mother.
“Yes. A log cabin. Come, I’ll show it to you!”
“Shall I go and look?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey of her husband.
“Perhaps you had better,” he agreed. “This tire is harder to change than I thought. I’m afraid it’s going to take a long time. But I can’t imagine there is any place around here where we could put up for the night. Still, it will do no harm to look. Hand me that wrench again, Bert, please.”
Mrs. Bobbsey and three of the children walked around the turn in the road.
“There it is,” said Nan.
She pointed to a lonely cabin set a little way back from the highway. It seemed very quiet—deserted, in fact—and as she looked at it Mrs. Bobbsey felt a chill in her heart.
“I don’t like the looks of that!” she said. “I’m afraid we could never stay there. No one lives in it, and it’s such a lonely place!”
Flossie and Freddie drew closer to their mother while the shadows of night settled down about the lonely cabin.