Part 37 (1/2)

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 cus.h.i.+oned 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 s.h.i.+ft 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, s.h.i.+fting 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.”