"He must have streaked it. I don't think he'd take the road to town--he must have gone straight home to the Captain's. Oh, dear, I'll have to tell him I used Ernest's horse without permission, and I've got these awful clothes on! It just seems as if the Captain has to know every single bad thing I ever do." Chicken Little heaved a long sigh and clucked to Calico.

They had almost reached the Captain's gate when they saw Wing Fan approaching on horseback, leading the truant Caliph. Chicken Little was immensely relieved to find, as they came near, that neither saddle nor bridle had suffered from the run away.

Wing Fan was also greatly relieved to find that no one had been hurt.

"Me velly 'fraid honorable brother have bad fall. Captain Clarke no home. I bring horse, find out."

Wing held Caliph while Jane mounted, and rode a little way with her to make sure he would not be fractious, but Caliph seemed to have had his fling and bowled along smoothly.

In the meantime Ernest and Sherm had arrived and were plying Gertie with questions between mouthfuls. Gertie parried as long as she could, shutting her lips together tight when they began to press her too hard.

"I'd just like to know what they are up to now. That precious sister of mine can get into more sc.r.a.pes than any kid I ever saw."

"And Katy isn't far behind her," added Sherm, hoping Gertie would try to defend her absent sister and let something out.

Chicken Little and Katy took the horses to the barn, carefully unsaddled Caliph, and rubbed both horses down and fed them, before going back to the orchard. They forgot all about their unusual dress.

They arrived there, tired and flushed, in time to help the boys finish the last melon.

"You mean things to eat the melons all up." Chicken Little almost forgot her own offense in her disgust over their greediness.

The boys did not waste time defending themselves; their attention was concentrated on the girls' peculiar costume.

"Well, what in the demnition bow wows have you been doing now, Chicken Little Jane Morton?" Ernest's gaze wandered from his sister to Katy, who suddenly became self-conscious and tucked her feet and as much of her trouser-clad legs as she could manage, underneath her.

Chicken Little gave a start of surprise, then faced Ernest boldly.

"Oh, just having a little fun."

By this time Ernest was beginning to grasp details. "Suppose next time you start out to have fun you let my things alone. Isn't that Sherm's best tie you've got on?"

Chicken Little clutched the offending tie and glanced hastily at Sherm.

The boy was regarding her with a peculiar expression, both admiring and disapproving. There was no denying that Chicken Little made a most attractive boy.

The swift color swept into the girl's face as she caught Sherm's glance.

"Oh, dear, and he had told her only that morning that girls should be different!" She liked Sherm--she didn't want him to think she was a bold, awful girl. Some way their prank seemed to need excusing. She replied to the look in Sherm's eyes rather than to her brother's accusation.

"We--I wanted to ride Caliph--I just knew I could if I didn't have a lot of horrid skirts to frighten him. And we did beautiful stunts and we couldn't, if we hadn't put on your old things. I bet if you had to wear cluttering things like skirts all the time you'd be glad to take them off some times, too." Chicken Little's big brown eyes sought Sherm's appealingly.

Ernest answered before Sherm could say anything.

"Well, you can settle with Mother about the skirts, but I'll thank you to let Caliph and my best ties alone."

"Did you ride him?" asked Sherm. "You're welcome to my tie, Chicken Little. It's very becoming."

Chicken Little felt subtly consoled. "Yes, I rode him, but he threw me once," she confessed.

"He threw me once, too," said the boy. "You'd better be a little careful."

Sherm grinned and Chicken Little smiled back happily.

CHAPTER XII

d.i.c.k AND ALICE GO ON ALONE

Dr. and Mrs. Morton got home about four o'clock. The girls had studied some time as to whether they should make a clean breast of the morning's doings, but Ernest, urged on by Sherm, had discouraged them.

"You needn't be afraid I'll peach, Sis. You're an awful good rider for a girl and I don't mind your taking Caliph so long as you didn't get hurt.

And I guess it was sensible of you not to try him with skirts. But you'd better be careful. You're getting most too big for such tom boy business."

"It wasn't anything really wrong," argued Chicken Little.

"I know my mother wouldn't have cared way off out here in the country."

Katy added her mite to the whitewashing.

"I don't think it was wrong, but I guess your mother wouldn't be pleased to hear about it," observed Gertie sagely.

"She isn't going to," said Chicken Little with decision. "I shall tell Father instead."

Father only laughed. Mrs. Morton did not learn of it until the girls had gone home to Centerville, when Chicken Little, wishing to convince her that she could ride Caliph safely, let it out, and received the long-delayed scolding.

Two days after the riding school, a letter came from d.i.c.k and Alice, saying they would arrive Sunday and must leave for Centerville the following Sat.u.r.day. The same mail brought a letter for Sherm from his mother, and another from Mrs. Dart to Dr. Morton. The doctor did not mention the contents of his until the boy had finished reading his own.

Then he stepped over to his side and laid his hand gently upon his head.

Sherm was looking pretty sober. "Can you be content to be our boy this winter, Sherm?"

"Thank you, you're mighty good to want me. I--I guess there's no college for me this winter. Father's no better. I wish--excuse me." Sherm finished abruptly and bolted out of the house.

Chicken Little looked after him with some concern. She turned inquiringly to her father.

"Poor lad," he said in response to her look, "his father is no better--will be a helpless invalid to the end, I judge, more from what Mrs. Dart doesn't say than from what she does. I'm afraid their affairs are in bad shape. Dart's illness must have cost enormously and they have had no man to look after their business. She writes that Sue is to be married quietly next month. She says they are sadly disappointed not to have Sherm home for this event, but feel that he will be better off to stay with us this winter, and she can hardly afford to have him come so far just for a short visit. There is something sort of queer about the letter--something mysterious, as if she were keeping the really important facts to herself. See what you make of it, Frank."

He handed the letter to Frank, who had just walked in with Jilly perched on his shoulder.

Chicken Little did not wait for Frank's verdict, she slipped out the door in search of Sherm. Her first guess was the stables and she made a hurried survey of stalls and hay mow. He was not there. She tried the orchard next, then the arbor. Perhaps he had taken one of the ponies and gone for a ride. No, she remembered both Calico and Caliph had whinnied as she went by their stalls. He might have walked down the lane. She went clear to the ford and hunted among the trees for a short distance up and down the bank. He was nowhere in sight. Coming back, she caught sight of the tops of the Weeping Willows and, remembering that Sherm sometimes went there Sundays with a book, she stole up quietly. He had thrown himself down on the ground under the interlacing branches. No, he was not crying--just lying perfectly still, staring up into the boughs above him with such misery in his face, it hurt her to see him.

She hardly knew what to do. She knew Ernest generally preferred to be let alone when things went wrong, but then Ernest had never come up against any real trouble. She suspected that Sherm's was very real.

Chicken Little watched him for several minutes, undecided. He did not stir. Finally, she decided she didn't care whether Sherm wanted her round or not, she wasn't going to go off and leave him to grieve all alone.

"Sherm," she called softly. The boy raised up on his elbow. "What do you want?" he asked rather gruffly.

His manner didn't suggest any longing for her society, but she persevered. "I won't bother you but just a minute, Sherm, but I'm awful sorry--about your father--and college and everything."

Sherm did not answer or look at her. The tender note of sympathy in her voice was imperilling his self-control. He didn't mean to play the baby, especially before a girl. But the braver the boy was, the more Chicken Little burned to comfort him. She stood for a moment staring at him helplessly, the tears welling up into her own eyes. Then on a sudden impulse she dropped down beside him, and before he could protest, began to stroke his hair. Sherm tolerated the caressing fingers for a few minutes, but his pride would not let him accept even this comforting. He dabbed his eyes fiercely. "Don't, Chicken Little, don't! You're a trump to stand by a fellow this way. I am all right--I just got to thinking about Father--and Sue's going."

Sherm would have carried it off beautifully if he hadn't attempted a smile, but his heart was too sore to quite manage that. The smile vanished in a hasty gulp, and, burying his face on his arm, he had it out.