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Ben Pepper

<h2>XII</h2> <h3>VAN</h3> Larry, keeping after Joel as well as he could, found him at the head of the back stairs, and gesticulating wildly to "Hurry, you're slow as a snail. Hush, she'll hear you!" "Who?" cried Larry, breathlessly, as he gained his side. "Never mind, come along." He hauled him on and into Mother Fisher's room, dashing up to the closet, turned the key with a click, and flung wide the door, "Why, he isn't here!" "Who?" cried Larry, forgetting all about Van, and not knowing whom he was expected to see. Joel's teeth were chattering so that he couldn't answer. "He's got out," he managed to say. "Who?" Larry crowded up closer and peered fearfully into the closet depths. "Why, Van," cried Joel, impatiently; "oh, well, he's got out some way. Come on," and he turned to go. "Van!" exclaimed Larry, faintly. "Yes, I told you so. I shut him up." "Oh, I thought you meant in your closet," said Larry, the mad race remaining uppermost in his mind to the effect of crowding out other things that now began to assert themselves. "Well, then, he's here now." "Phoo, no, he isn't," declared Joel, waving his fingers convincingly; "you can see for yourself. Somebody's let him out, and he's locked the door to cheat me." But Larry was not to be convinced. "He is, I know he is," leaning forward the better to peer around within the closet. "Take care," warned Joel, who had good reason to know Van's capabilities along that line, "maybe he's hiding in the corner, and he'll tweak you." At this Larry, who also had occasion to know Van quite well, bounded back quite suddenly, saying, "I see a shoe sticking out," and pointing to it. "Oh, that's Mamsie's," said Joel, determined not to believe. Then the moment he had said it he remembered that Mother Fisher's shoes were always kept in the shoe-box over in the corner. "We'll give it a pull," he said, doing his best to speak carelessly, which Larry proceeding to do, out came the leg attached which clearly belonged to Van. But it was limp, and lay just where it was dropped with a thud on the closet floor. Joel, with his heart thumping so he could hardly breathe, sprang into the closet, twitched away Mother Fisher's long black silk gown, seized Van where he lay under its folds, and got him outside to lay him flat on the carpet. "He's dead, I guess," said Larry, cheerfully. "Get some water," screamed Joel, "and open the window;" meantime he slapped Van's hands smartly together and called him to open his eyes, and this not succeeding, he ran over to Mother Fisher's medicine closet, rushed back, and in his trepidation emptied a whole bottle of something all over the white face. "That's no good," said Larry. The window now being open, he advanced with a water pitcher whose contents he promptly distributed in the same way. "See what you've done; that's castor oil." <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/></div> <h3>"See what you've done; that's castor oil."</h3> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> It was no time to cast criticisms upon each other, and Joel soon had a cologne bottle, and Larry the ammonia, and in two minutes their united efforts had Van sitting up in the middle of the floor with anything but a pleased expression on his face, into which his usual color was slowly creeping. And just then in rushed Polly. "Whatever in the world—" she began, stopping in sheer amazement. "See what they've done," cried Van, in a towering passion, shaking his head like a half-drowned rat, and he pointed to his clothes, from which little streams of water were running off to join the pools on the carpet. "Tchee! Tchee! Get away," and he knocked the ammonia bottle out of Larry's hand. "O dear me!" cried Polly, "pick it up, do; don't let it get spilled," as it spun off. "Now I should just like to know what all this is about," she demanded indignantly, as she joined the group. "Well, I guess he'd have been in a tight fix if we hadn't—" began Larry, recovering the ammonia bottle. Then he stopped short. "Hadn't what? Go on," said Polly. "Hadn't—hadn't—" Larry, not looking at Joel, floundered miserably. "I'll tell you," said Van, wishing so much of the ammonia hadn't gone into his mouth, and up his nose, and stopping to cough and splutter. "O dear, wait a minute, Polly, I'll tell you!" But Polly was fixing her brown eyes sternly on Larry and Joel, who stood with his head cast down, and wringing his hands together miserably. "Now, you two boys must just stay in this room," at last she said decidedly, feeling quite sure there was nothing more to be gotten out of them, "and sit there," pointing to the wide sofa, "till Mamsie comes home, and—" "No, no," howled Joel; "I'll tell, I'll tell, Polly. Don't make us sit there." "Yes, you must," said Polly, firmly, feeling that the responsibility that had fallen upon her in Mother Fisher's absence quite weighed her down, "and when Mamsie comes, she will have to know it all," and her mouth drooped sorrowfully. "'Tisn't any matter," said Van, getting up to his feet and giving a final shake, so that the little drops flew far and wide, "I don't mind it,—I'm all dry now." "No, you are not," said Polly, guilty of contradicting, "Vannie, you're just as wet as you can be," feeling of his jacket; "run off and get into dry things as soon as you can. Yes, you two boys must sit there; at least Joel, you must," pointing to the sofa again. "I'm going to stay if Joel has to," declared Larry, after an awful pause in which he had fully decided to cut and run. And down he sat by Joel, who had flung himself in great distress on Mamsie's sofa. Van started toward the door, took two steps, turned and rushed back to lean over Joel, "I won't ever tell," he whispered, and ran out as fast as he could go. And Polly wiped up the carpet and put back the bottles and the water pitcher, and tidied things up, the boys watching her out of miserable eyes. "Polly," came pealing over the stairs. "Yes," called Polly, back again, pausing in her work long enough to add, "don't come up, Alexia, I'll be right down;" but Alexia, following the sound of her own voice, was already rushing into the room. "Well, if I ever," she began, pausing by Polly's side. "What are you doing, Polly Pepper?" "Oh, nothing much," said Polly, running off into the bath room with the wet cloth; "I'll be through in a minute, Alexia." "Oh, you two boys have been up to mischief," said Alexia, running her pale eyes over the two culprits, "and now you've bothered Polly, and we shan't have time to go down-town at all, and here we all are working ourselves almost to death for our Christmas when Jasper and Ben get home." It was a long speech, and it had its effect, for the boys wilted perceptibly. That is, Larry did; Joel already being in that state where a greater degree of misery would not easily be noticed. "It just passes me," said Alexia, provoked not to rouse them to reply, "how you can act so. But then, you are boys. I suppose that's the reason." "I didn't act so," cried Larry, "and you've no right, Alexia, to scold us. 'Tisn't your house, anyway," he took refuge lamely in that fact, and he swung his feet in defiance. "Well, somebody must scold you," said Alexia, "and no one else will, unless I come over. Well, anyway,—Polly, where are you?" "Here," said Polly, hurrying in,—"oh, don't, Alexia, say anything,—they feel badly about it, whatever it is." "Don't you know what they've been doing?" asked Alexia, with wide eyes, and whirling around to stare at the boys. "No," said Polly, "I don't, Alexia, but Mamsie'll make it right, for they're going to tell her," and again she cast a sorrowful glance at them. "Well, come on," said Alexia, turning her back on the sofa and its occupants; "I don't care in the least what they've done, so long as I have you, Polly. Hurry up, Polly, and get on your hat." "I can't go," said Polly, standing quite still, and not looking at the boys this time. "Can't go? why, Polly Pepper, you know you said the red-and-green holly ribbon had all given out, and you must get some more so we could tie up the rest of the presents this evening." "Well, I can't go," said Polly, with a sigh. Then she folded her hands and shook her head. When Polly looked like that, Alexia always knew it was no use to beg and plead, so now she turned on the boys. "Now see what you've gone and done," she cried in a passion. "Polly won't go down-town because you're keeping her home. And there we've all had our Christmas put off (Alexia wouldn't hear to celebrating the holiday until the Peppers could have theirs), and you two boys have just gone and spoiled it all." "Alexia—Alexia!" implored Polly. "I will say so," cried Alexia, perversely, "they've upset all our nice Christmas; and just think, Jasper almost killed, and—" "Ow!" howled Joel, springing from the old sofa. He wavered a moment on unsteady feet, then dashed out of the room. Larry, left without any support whatever, concluded to sink down against the sofa-pillow and bury his face in its soft depths. "Oh, Alexia!" mourned Polly, but that one word was quite enough. "O dear, dear!" gasped Alexia, wringing her long fingers together, "I didn't mean—oh, what have I done?" "I must go after him," said Polly, hoarsely, and springing past her to the door. "Let me, oh, let me," mumbled Alexia, plunging after her. "I'll go, Polly." "No, you stay here." Polly was off halfway down the stairs. Alexia turned back to the sofa. "I don't see why you boys always make such a fuss," she began, too nervous to keep still, and twisting her fingers together. Larry, having the sofa-pillow stuffed up all around his ears, could not be expected to hear conversation. So Alexia, finding it all one sided, began to rage up and down the room, alternately whimpering that she didn't mean to say it, and blaming the boys for the whole thing. At last, Larry, finding it necessary to get a wholesome breath of fresh air, sat up straight and tossed aside the pillow. "Oh, now you can hear me," cried Alexia, turning on him with sparkling eyes; "you must confess, Larry, that you've been perfectly awful, both of you boys, and made it just as bad as can be for everybody." "I haven't been bad," retorted Larry, glaring at her, and pushing off the hair from his hot face, "so there, now; I didn't do a single thing." "Well, what's it all about, anyway?" cried Alexia, running over to him to sit down by his side. "What whole thing?" said Larry, edging off. "Go away, Alexia," and he scrambled off to the sofa end, where he planted himself at a safe distance. "Why, you know just as well as I do," said Alexia, and hurrying to place herself next to him as quickly as if he had invited her there. "No, I don't," said Larry, with anything but a sweet countenance. "Do go away, Alexia." "Why, Larry Keep!" exclaimed Alexia, and her pale eyes were very wide, "you must know; and now tell me all about it." Larry, for answer, hopped nimbly over the sofa arm. "No, I won't. I haven't anything to tell. Go away, Alexia." "Oh, what an awful boy," exclaimed Alexia, raising her long hands in horror, "to get off this sofa, when Polly Pepper told you to sit here." "She didn't either; she said Joel must," corrected Larry, defiantly. "So there, now, Alexia Rhys!" "Well, you know she meant you," said Alexia, "only she didn't exactly like to make you, 'cause you don't live here." "Well, Joel's gone, and I'm not going back," declared Larry, flatly, and regarding the sofa with anything but pleasure. "Well, that's dreadfully mean," said Alexia, leaning back composedly to look him all over, "to run away, now Joel's gone. He'd expect you to stay here, of course." To do anything that Joel would not expect not fitting into Larry's ideas, he slipped back into his place again, crowding up against the sofa arm as closely as possible. "Now tell me all about it," said Alexia, happily, and leaning forward to catch every word. "All about what?" said Larry, sourly. "Why, all about just everything, you stupid boy; what you and Joel have been up to, and the whole thing," said Alexia, hungrily. "There hasn't been any whole thing," said Larry, gloomily, and very much wishing he had "been up to something" that had yielded at least a little bit of fun. "O dear me, how tiresome you are!" exclaimed Alexia, quite exasperated, and picking up the big sofa-pillow to bestow impatient dabs upon it. "O my goodness me!" For in walked Mrs. Fisher, and Alexia, feeling that in the interview to come she should certainly not be in the right place, skipped to her feet and out of the room, leaving Larry in a miserable state enough to face Joel's mother. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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