CHAPTER VIITROUBLE IN TROUBLE
“Just a minute there, Mr. Martin! Just a minute!” called Constable Juke, as he came along the dusty road. “Sorry to call you back,” he went on, as he came nearer. “I heard you were going away to-day, and I thought I’d get over before you left. But I didn’t, and when I saw you going off down the road I called to you.”
“Is it about the burglars that got into Miss Ransom’s store and took the puzzle box?” asked Ted.
“No, it isn’t about them,” answered the constable. “Though I hope to have ’em soon, the rascals! Just wait until I catch my breath and I’ll tell you.”
He sat down on a stone at the side of the road, while Mr. Martin, Uncle Ben, and the others in the automobile waited.
“Is it our dog Skyrocket?” asked Janet.
“Yes, it’s about him,” said the constable.
“Oh, have you found him?” cried the two Curlytops both at once, while Trouble, who heard the name of the pet he liked so much, said:
“Me want Skywocket, too!”
“I’m sorry to say I haven’t got your dog,” went on the constable. “But I ran after you to ask whether he’s black or white. You see, I forgot whether you said white or black when you told me about him, Mr. Martin. And I don’t want to be looking for a black dog, if it’s a white one that’s lost. And I don’t want to be looking for a white dog if it’s a black one that’s lost. Sometimes I had it in mind that it was a black dog you owned, and again it struck me that it was white. I wanted to be sure about it. Now if he is a white dog——”
“Skyrocket is mostly black,” said Teddy.
“But he’s got a little white on him,” added Janet.
“But you’d call him a black dog, I guess,” said Daddy Martin. “And he was a curly black dog, too, and not very large. Did you find any such lost dog as that, Constable Juke?”
“No, I didn’t, I’m sorry to say,” was the answer. “But now that I know for sure what Skyrocket looks like I’ll write it down on a piece of paper. Then I’ll have it with me always, and I won’t forget. If I do, every time I see a lost dog I’ll take out the paper and read that Skyrocket was black.”
“I hope you’ll find him,” said Teddy.
“So do I,” echoed Janet.
“I hope the same thing myself,” remarked the constable. “Well, now I’m sure in my own mind I can make a better hunt for him. I sort of plan to look for your dog and the burglars at the same time,” he added to Mr. Martin.
“Well, I don’t believe the burglars that robbed Mrs. Ransom’s store had anything to do with Skyrocket’s going away,” said Mr. Martin. “The children’s dog may have run away himself.”
“Oh, Sky wouldn’t do that!” cried Teddy. Sometimes he called his dog “Sky” instead of “Skyrocket.”
“Well, the best of dogs run away once in a while,” said Mr. Martin. “However, we wish you good luck, Constable Juke.”
“Thank you,” answered the man. He had written down on the back of an envelope, with a stub of a pencil, the color of the Curlytops’ dog, so he would know Skyrocket if he saw him.
“Well, I’ll be getting back now,” said the constable, as he got up and knocked some dust from his shoes with a bunch of weeds he pulled from the roadside. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“Oh, we aren’t in any hurry,” replied Mr. Martin. “We’re going to Silver Lake for the summer.”
The automobile started off once more, Mr. Martin steering it down the road on the way to Silver Lake.
“When are we going to get there?” asked Teddy, after his father and mother had finished talking about the queer way Constable Juke had run after them to ask about the color of Skyrocket.
“Oh, we shall get there some time this afternoon,” answered Ted’s father.
“Do you like it near the water?” asked Uncle Ben, for the children now called him by this name all the while.
“Oh, I just love it!” exclaimed Janet. “And it’s good for my dolls, too. They like to be near the cool lake.”
“How did the rubber doll get over her swim in the churn?” asked Uncle Ben, with a smile, for Mrs. Kent had told the story of Jan’s dropped doll.
“Oh, she’s all right,” answered the little girl. “Some of the buttermilk got inside her, ’cause she’s got a hole in her back. But I make believe feed her that way, lots of times, so I guess she likes it.”
“Will you show me how to sail a boat on Silver Lake, Uncle Ben?” asked Teddy, as the automobile rolled on.
“Yes, if your father lets you go out in one,” was the answer.
“Will you, Daddy?”
“Will I what?” inquired Mr. Martin, for he had not heard what Teddy said, as, just then, a rooster ran across the road in front of the automobile and Mr. Martin did not want to run over the crowing chap.
“Will you let Uncle Ben take me out and show me how to sail a boat?” asked Teddy.
“Oh, yes, I think so—if you’ll be careful,” was the reply.
“Oh, I’ll be careful,” promised Uncle Ben. “I used to be a sailor and I once worked at a dock where rowboats and sailboats were rented out,” he went on, “and lots of times I’d take out parties of children. I had to be very careful of them.”
That was one thing that Mr. and Mrs. Martin liked Uncle Ben for—he was so kind and careful about children. They felt that they could trust the Curlytops and Trouble with him at any time, even though they had not known him very long.
“Oh, I know I’ll just love it at Silver Lake!” exclaimed Jan, when she had heard Ted talking about the boat rides he was to have.
“We’ll have plenty of fun!” decided the little boy. “I wish we’d hurry up and get there!”
“So do I!” echoed his sister.
The day was rather warm, and after having passed through a little village the automobile was driven past a little wayside ice-cream and soda-water stand.
“Let’s stop here and cool off,” said Mother Martin. “I’m sure some ice-cream would be good for the children, and I know I’d like a drink of lemonade.”
“Yes, we can stop here,” decided Daddy Martin. “The automobile wants a drink, too. I forgot to put water in when we started. I’ll get some here.”
The ice-cream stand was kept by a boy about fifteen years old. He said he took charge of it every summer, as soon as school was out, so he could earn money to help his mother, who lived not far away.
“I’ll get some water for your auto while you’re eating the ice-cream,” said the boy. “I can get it from a well right back of my stand. And you can sit over there under the trees. It’s shady and cool there.”
“Yes, we’ll get out of the auto and walk around a little,” decided Mrs. Martin. “One of my feet is asleep.”
“Did you sing it to sleep, ’ike you sing me to sleep?” asked Trouble.
“No, indeed!” laughed his mother. “My foot went to sleep of itself.”
What she meant was, as you know, that her foot felt as if “pins and needles” were sticking in it—you know how it is if you lie down with your head on your arm sometimes. When you try to move your fingers they feel numb, as if they were “asleep.”
But a little walk around under the trees near the roadside ice-cream stand made Mrs. Martin’s foot “wake up;” and then the Curlytops, Baby William, Uncle Ben, and Mr. and Mrs. Martin sat down to enjoy the good things which the boy set on a little table for them.
“Now I’ll go and get the water for your auto,” said the lad, after Mr. Martin had paid him.
They sat there eating the ice-cream, and sipping the lemonade, which Mr. Martin also ordered, and in a little while a man whom Mr. Martin knew drove past, stopping his carriage in the road while the Curlytops’ father talked with him a moment.
“Come, children, we’ll go and see how the boy is coming along putting the water in daddy’s auto,” suggested Mrs. Martin, when the ice-cream had been finished and the last drop of lemonade was gone.
“This is a nice place here,” said Teddy, as he got down from his chair and looked around the country farm, near which the ice-cream stand had been built.
“But not as nice as Silver Lake,” said Janet.
“Oh, no, course not!” agreed her brother.
“Where’s Trouble?” suddenly asked Mrs. Martin, as she brushed some crumbs off her dress, for she had opened a box of crackers she had brought from a supply in the automobile.
“He was cleaning out his ice-cream dish a moment ago,” answered Uncle Ben.
“And he asked me if there was any left in mine,” added Jan.
“But he’s gone!” cried her mother. “He must have slipped away when I leaned over to pick up my handkerchief that I had dropped. We must find him!”
“I hope Trouble isn’t in trouble again,” said Uncle Ben.
“Ted, go and call your father,” said Mrs. Martin. Her husband was out in the road talking to the man who sat in a carriage.
As Teddy hurried out to do this, suddenly, from somewhere back of the ice-cream stand, came the shrill voice of Baby William.
“I dot him! I dot him!” cried Trouble. “Tum on, Teddy—Jan! I dot him all wite!”
“What kind of trouble is Trouble in now?” thought Uncle Ben.