The Moffats (9 page)

"Phew!" said Joe. "What luck to find a shelter!"

"Where do you suppose old Natby is?" asked Rufus.

"Probably at church," said Jane.

"What will the Captain say when he wakes up and finds we're just as far from Orchard Grove as when we started?" asked Joey uneasily.

"He won't wake unless we beat the drum," screamed Jane above the thunder. "Imagine sleeping through this storm."

"Well, anyway, he'll be pleased we found this shelter for his horse. Besides, how could he hold a revival meeting in the rain?" Joe comforted himself.

"To think we just went around in a circle!" marveled Jane.

"Yes. The Green is only five minutes away. I shoulda known better, too," said Joe, rather ashamed. "All the time I been biking up there with Chet Pudge."

"Well, things look different behind a horse," said Jane consolingly.

They sat there in the broad doorway of the blacksmith shop waiting until the worst of the storm should be over. They were impatient to be off.

"Rain, rain, go away," chanted Janey, watching the drops falling through the leaves.

At last the rain began to abate.

"Let's go now," said Joe. "And I s'pose we better go back to the Green and take the Shore road to Orchard Grove. These country roads will be terrible after this rain."

"Right," agreed Janey and Rufus.

So back to the Green then. The horse neighed. He was glad to be on the move again. The quick summer storm had spent itself and already the sun was breaking through the heavy clouds.

They trotted down Elm Street. Now,
clop, clop-a, cloppity
clop-a
to Main Street, and here they were approaching the Green. The Green looked most welcome to them. To tell the truth they were all getting tired and they wished to goodness that they might bid the Captain good-bye and get home to Sunday dinner, to Robinson Crusoe, to paper dolls. There came a moment of complete silence as they thought of these things. The silence made Janey remark, "You know what?"

"What?" asked Rufus sleepily. The
cloppity clop-a
was making him drowsy.

"Well, when we were going out of town the Captain snored and snored. He hasn't snored for ever so long. S'funny."

"People don't snore every minute," said Joe testily.

"No, but I think this man either snores or he's awake. He's certainly not snoring and I'm sure we'd hear him if he were awake. I don't think he's there," Jane announced solemnly.

A deep silence greeted this observation of Jane's. Then Joe said still more testily, "Jane, you often think of troublesome things." Then he added a little less crossly, "How could he
not
be there? We haven't seen him get out. But just to please you, we'll look."

He handed the reins to Jane. Then he lifted the heavy oilcloth curtain and he looked. They all looked. They turned their heads back to the street again. Joe took up the reins, spat out of the side of the wagon as he had seen certain people do, and said, "Gone!"

The Captain lost! Out of his own horse and wagon! Phew!

No wonder they all looked pretty subdued
as
they drew up at the drinking trough. No doubt ordinarily looking for the Captain would have seemed like sport to them. What? Look for a lost Captain? Sure! What fun! That's what they ordinarily would have thought. But having lost the Captain of the Salvation Army out of his own horse and wagon was a song of a different tune. Moreover they were tired—worn-out, in fact, by everything that had happened. First they had lost the road. Now they had lost the Captain. Well, they would just have to turn around and find him.

They jumped down to stretch their legs for a moment before beginning the search. They scarcely noticed Mrs. Shoemaker, who had spread the Sunday
Register
on a bench and was sitting on it so she wouldn't get wet. They sat down beside her and tried to think what they should do. Mrs. Shoemaker listened to their conversation and she kept exclaiming, "Well, I never! Lost the Captain of the Salvation Army! Well, I never!" The children felt they could think a whole lot better if Mrs. Shoemaker would only stop this "Well, I never" business. They had an important question to decide. Since they had gone around a complete circle, should they go back the way they had just come? Or should they go back the way they had driven in the first place?

To make matters worse, they noticed that all the message they had written on the drinking trough had been washed away by the rain except for the words "Army" and "Joe." This meant that Mama would be worrying, too.

At this moment Sylvie ran across the street from the Town Hall.

"Hi!" she cried. "There you are! Mama wants you to come home. She sent me to look for you. Where have you been anyway? What did you mean by 'Army'?" she asked, pointing to the message on the drinking trough. "I thought it might have some connection with that sign over there," she added, indicating a large poster in front of the Town Hall which said:

JOIN THE ARMY—ENLIST!

They all laughed at the idea of Sylvie thinking they might have joined the army, and while they were explaining what really had happened, who should come along but the Reverend Mr. Gandy! What a crowd was there, and more and more coming. Everyone making proposals and supposing this and supposing that, and suggesting this and suggesting that! Joey, Janey, and Rufus began to feel important in spite of themselves. They began to feel as though they were a rescue party.

"Come on, kids," said Joe. "We better start on the expedition."

They rose from the bench and were about to mount the wagon again when, look! Who was that hurrying across Main Street? Yes, of course. Mama! Mama in her black gloves and hat with the violets.

"Well, well," she said. "What's going on? Why don't you come home and eat your dinner?"

"We can't, Mama," said Rufus solemnly.

"Can't!" echoed Mama, amazed.

"No," sighed Joe. "We lost the Captain of the Salvation Army."

"And now we've got to find him," said Jane sadly.

"And take him to the revival meeting like we said we would," said Joe.

"Well ... tell me about it," said Mama.

Now that Mama was on the scene the children felt more like talking. They kept interrupting one another all the time. "All right, Jane, now you told enough. Let me talk now." Or, "But
I
want to tell about the blacksmith shop." They became so excited, talking and jumping around, they didn't pay any attention to the funny-looking man who was coming across the Green. Mrs. Shoemaker was the first to notice him.

"I declare," she whispered to Mr. Gandy, nudging him in the ribs. "Don't you see the strange-looking people in town now that the new Second Avenue trolley line has been opened?"

"All men are our brothers, strange-looking or otherwise, Mrs. Shoemaker," said the Reverend Mr. Gandy.

As the stranger drew nearer he didn't seem so much odd-looking as he did just plain wet. He joined the group and said. "Almost enough people here to hold a meeting." And whistling, he went over to stroke his horse's nose.

"It's the Captain," screamed Jane. "My—how wet!"

"Oh, the Captain," exclaimed all the others, standing up.

"Aye. Captain Rowley of the Salvation Army," said he. "At your service," said he, giving Joe a meaning look.

Joe was so covered with confusion he could say nothing. Jane came to his rescue and said, "I guess you thought you'd wake up in Orchard Grove. I'm very sorry. If you hadn't gotten out of the wagon, you might have ... finally..."

"Hadn't gotten out!" exploded the Captain. "Hadn't gotten out indeed!" Then to everyone's amazement he described how he had been thrown from the wagon. "'Come back!' I yelled. I might as well have saved my breath though, for all the good it did," he said, glowering at the three, who were naturally speechless at his story.

"Well, I never!" said Mrs. Shoemaker.

When the Captain had finally finished telling what had happened to him and had listened to what had happened to them, he said, "Well, I guess there's no use my going to Orchard Grove now at all. Meeting will be over and Captain Rowley will not have been there like he said he would," he said sadly.

"Oh, oh ... I'm sorry," Joe said apologetically. But now Mama interrupted and said the whole party must come home to the yellow house and have Sunday dinner. "You too, Mrs. Shoemaker," she said cordially.

Mrs. Shoemaker hesitated a moment. Then she said ruefully, "Thank you, but I have had my dinner, so I'll be on my way, I guess. I'm meeting Mrs. Cadwalader in the cemetery. You know, we spend every Sunday afternoon in the cemetery. It's so restful."

So she moved on up the street. When she turned around at the corner, she was most surprised to see Mr. Gandy helping Mama up to the driver's seat next to the Captain. Sylvie and the rest of them walked slowly behind, except for Rufus, who was too tired to walk and sat up on the newspapers in the back.

"Mind you hang on," said the Captain, giving him a solemn wink as they started.

Rufus found the drum and banged it good and hard. Mama turned around and said, "Hush, it's Sunday," and then to the horse, she said briskly, "Giddyap, giddyap, sir."

"Gee, he goes as good for her as for us," said Joe to Jane.

"Sure, why not?" she answered.

Jane came skipping up the street. What a good day it had been so far! And it was going to be even better, of that she was sure. It had been a good day in school because the drawing teacher, Miss Partridge, who visited every class in town once in the fall, once in the winter, and once in the spring, had paid her autumn visit that day.

Everyone in Jane's class had drawn an autumn leaf. Everyone in Rufus's, a pumpkin. Everyone in Joe's, an apple. All the children in the grammar schools came home with a drawing fluttering in the wind—a drawing of a pumpkin, an apple, or an autumn leaf. It is true that sometimes the children grew tired of drawing leaves, pumpkins, and apples. However, Miss Partridge never thought of letting them draw anything else.