Gertie could not deny the accusation. She didn't quite realize herself how very different the story seemed when listened to from the depths of a cushioned chair in a cozy, brightly lighted room and out here under the dripping bushes, chilled and frightened. Even the old umbrellas were getting soaked. Katy had to shift the precious book a time or two to avoid the drip.

Gertie returned to the charge.

"I guess the Swiss family got awful tired of their tree house if it rained like this. I am never going to play tree house again, Katy."

"'Fraid cat! 'fraid cat! I think it's lots of fun. Don't you, Jane?"

Chicken Little had begun to fuss about restlessly, shifting from one cramped position to another. She did not answer Katy's question right away.

"I guess it's most noon," she finally evaded diplomatically. "Mother said I must be home by noon."

But Katy saw through this flimsy excuse.

"Oh, you're backing out! 'Tisn't anywhere near noon--you're just making an excuse to go home. I bet you're 'fraid too."

"I'm not, Katy Halford, I'm not afraid the least speck and I can stay here just as long as you can!" Chicken Little repelled this slur upon her courage indignantly.

"Pooh, I'm going to stay here till the dinner bell rings," declared Katy with a confidence she did not feel. She had been secretly hoping for several minutes that her mother would call them in.

A blinding flash put a period to her sentence. There were three alarmed "Ohs!" and three pairs of frightened eyes blinked an instant from the glare.

Then Gertie picked herself up resolutely.

"I'm going straight in to Mother. I am 'fraid of lightning and I don't care who knows it--and you don't like it any better than I do, Katy, but you just think it's smart to pretend." And Gertie gathered her flapping gossamer about her and scurried for the house.

Katy looked at Chicken Little and Chicken Little looked at Katy. They were both longing to follow but neither would give in.

Suddenly another and then another dazzling flash blinded them. The forked flames seemed launched straight at them and the deafening crash that followed shook the very ground under their feet.

With a wild yell in unison, the children fled screaming to the house.

Mrs. Halford met them at the kitchen door white and worried. She had not dreamed they would hold out so long.

The piece of carpet was left to a watery fate under the bushes. The book dropped from Katy's nerveless fingers unnoticed and forgotten till the next day, when Maggie picked it up limp and discolored near the kitchen door.

It took Mrs. Halford a full hour to dry and comfort the terrified trio.

But once warmed and rea.s.sured Chicken Little and Katy promptly quarreled as to who deserted first.

"I wouldn't have come if Chicken Little hadn't been so scared. Of course, I didn't want to stay there all alone," Katy a.s.serted blandly.

"It's no such thing, Katy Halford--I'm most sure you started first. It was 'cause you yelled so I got so scared. My mother always says I'm real brave about thunder."

"You did start first, Chicken Little Jane, and I just wish you could 'a'

heard yourself yell!"

"Girls," said Mrs. Halford with a twinkle in her eye, "stand up together there."

The children wonderingly obeyed and she surveyed them both carefully.

"Do you know," she said reflectively, "I am sure it took you both to make all the noise I heard--I wonder how you did it--it sounded like a whole tribe of wild Indians. And if either of you beat the other to the house, it was because she could run faster."

The little girls edged apart sheepishly. The subject was dropped. Mrs.

Halford was a quiet little woman who seldom scolded, but she had a way with her that silenced even obstreperous Katy.

"Now if you want to know what I think," she continued, "I think Gertie was the bravest one of the three."

"Why, Mumsey Halford--you know Gertie came in first of all." This was more than Katy could stand.

"Exactly, that's why I think she was the bravest. She was brave enough to stand being made fun of rather than be a foolish little girl and stay out in the storm needlessly. Your courage and Jane's, too, was mostly vanity, Katy dear. You wanted to show off--and each wanted to beat the other. That is the kind of courage that gets people into trouble in this world. The kind of courage I want my girls to have is the finer kind that does some good. It is the kind of courage that makes men risk their own lives to save people from drowning. Don't you remember, Katy, the story I read you of the life-savers going out in the terrible storm to get the people off a sinking ship? And you remember how thrilled you were reading about the awful hardships of the patriots at Valley Forge?

Theirs was the courage to suffer for the sake of their country. Do you suppose we would honor them today if they had half-starved themselves in the snow that winter just for fun? And the courage which is not afraid to refuse to do something wrong or silly, is just as necessary as the courage to do. I guess Gertie is one ahead this time. Don't you think so?"

The children were saved the pain of answering by the arrival of Ernest with umbrella, water-proof, and rubbers for Chicken Little.

Mrs. Halford laughed merrily when she saw them.

"After all, children, I guess the joke is on me. I am afraid I didn't have the courage to act at the proper time myself."

CHAPTER XVI

LETTERS AND A SURPRISE

The sitting room in the Morton home was cheerful with sunshine. It brightened the conventional flowers of the old crimson Brussels carpet into a semblance of life. It caught the gold outline of the wall paper and lingered there--even the somber steel engravings reflected the light from the polished gla.s.s over them. Mrs. Morton sat in her low rocking chair by the window reading a letter from her husband.

She had read it through for the second time, and still she gazed at the lines as if she could not quite comprehend their meaning. Her sewing had dropped from her lap unheeded. Ernest, coming in search of her, called three times before she noticed him.

"Yes, Son," she answered absently at last.

"What's the matter, Mother? Nothing wrong with Father is there?"

Ernest had recognized his father's writing on the closely written sheets.

"No, dear, just some perplexing business. Sit down and I'll read it to you--but don't mention the matter to anyone yet."

Ernest came close to his mother, putting his arm affectionately about her shoulders.

"Don't look so solemn, Mother," he protested.

"Am I looking solemn? Well, I do feel worried. Listen to this:

"My dear Wife,

"I was glad to get your letter of the 8th with the welcome news that you are all well and that Marian is getting about again. I have important news for you and for Frank. I am writing to him by the same mail. I have bought the ranch! A really choice one, I believe, and so cheap it must surely double in value in ten years.

There is an entire section, and good water for house and stock--a wonderful big spring in a little rocky dell shaded by a great oak tree hundreds of years old. It will charm you all. Chicken Little will want to set up housekeeping under it immediately and you and Marian would find it a lovely cool nook for a summer afternoon.

The big spring widens into a brook twenty feet below and goes singing away over the stones. A good-sized spring house has been built over it and crocks of b.u.t.ter and milk and great melons are set right in the cold running water. You never saw such a refrigerator. The place has magnificent orchards, peach, apple and cherry with grapes and blackberries also.

"Tell Chicken Little I saw a flock of quail in the apple orchard.