Chapter 10 SUSANNE ENTERTAINS A CALLER

"Let's make some candy. It's too hot to play."

Susie and the twins were sitting idly on a great, shaggy, redwood log in the scanty shade of the house, fanning themselves as briskly as their tired arms would move, and longing for the cool of sundown.

Irene looked startled at the older sister's suggestion, and began, "Tabitha--"

"Oh, I know she made us promise not to get into mischief," Susie impatiently interrupted her, "but taffy ain't mischief. We'll make a big batch so's there will be plenty for the others when they get back."

"It's so hot," objected Inez, as Susie turned to her for approval.

"We'll use the gasolene stove."

"But you've never lighted it. How'll you--"

"Oh, Irene, you make me tired! Don't you s'pose I know how? Haven't I watched mamma and Tabitha hundreds of times? Guess I can manage it if Mercy can. Come on, Inez!"

"Do you know how to make taffy?" questioned the undaunted Irene, following the other two into the sweltering kitchen.

"Course! Molasses and sugar and vinegar and butter. Ask me something hard."

"Tabitha measures 'em."

"So shall I. You go fetch the m'lasses jug and a cup. Inez, bring the vinegar and butter, and I'll measure things after I get the stove a-going." Mopping her face and bustling energetically about the small room, Susie marshalled her forces and set to work with contagious enthusiasm. All three donned huge aprons, hunted up long-handled spoons, and rattled among the neat array of pots and pans until it sounded as if a whole regiment had been turned loose in the kitchen.

The stove was lighted without any trouble, much to the relief of the breathless trio, and the candy making was soon in progress. Sugar was measured and molasses spilled with reckless abandon over table, floor and stove, in their hurry to get their delectable sweet on cooking before the rest of the family should return from their day's outing and interfere, for, secretly, each be-aproned girl, paddling in the pot with her sticky spoon and dribbling syrup wherever she ran, felt that she was not strictly obeying Tabitha's parting injunction, and was anxious to have a peace offering ready when she returned with the rest of her brood.

They had gone for a drive to the river, and as there was not room in the light wagon for all the large family, Susie and the twins had been bribed to remain at home with the promise of ice-cream sodas at the little drug-store. However, that unusual treat had disappeared long ago down the three eager throats, and they had begun to rue their bargain when Susie's inspiration fired them with enthusiasm once more.

"I wish we had some nuts," panted perspiring Inez, stirring the bubbling mess in the kettle so vigorously that a great spatter flew up and struck Irene on the hand.

"Ooo!" screeched the unfortunate victim. "What made you do that?"

"I didn't do it a-purpose," indignantly denied her twin. "Stop your jumping and suck it off."

Irene obediently thrust the smarting wound into her mouth, and immediately let out another howl of anguish, for the sticky mass had burned the little tongue sadly, and the tears rained down the rosy cheeks unchecked while the dismayed sisters racked their brains for some soothing remedy to deaden the pain.

"Try this," suggested Susie, hurrying out of the pantry with a can of baking powder in her hand, vaguely recalling that some kind of white powder used in cooking was good for burns.

"I will not," sobbed Irene angrily. "You don't know what it will do. You're just guessing."

"Gloriana put coal oil on Toady's foot," timidly began Inez, half distracted at having been the cause of all her sister's woe.

"And you think I'll stick my tongue in that?" roared the usually gentle twin so savagely that both her companions fell silent, perplexed at the unhappy situation.

Meanwhile the bubbling syrup had been forgotten, and with an ominous hiss and a pungent odor, the seething mass boiled over the top of the kettle and was promptly licked up by the eager flames of the stove. A great cloud of smoke filled the kitchen, and the paralyzed girls awoke to their danger with a sickening horror.

"Oh, oh, oh!" they screamed in frenzy. "The house will catch! We'll all be burned up! What will mamma say?"

"Hush! Shut up! Give me your apron!" commanded an authoritative voice behind them, and a big, shabby stranger rushed past them, snatched Susie's apron, gave a deft twist to the flaming burner, seized the smoking kettle, and vanished through the kitchen door before any of the sisters realized what had happened. He was soon back with the blackened pot in his hands and a reassuring smile on his lips. "It's all right, kids," he announced cheerily, noting the terror in their faces. "No harm's done. It won't take but a few minutes to clean up that stove and pan and no one will be the wiser. You are housekeeping by yourselves to-day, I see." His quick, restless, eager eyes had noted the tell-tale signs of mischief about him before he hazarded that remark.

"Yes, oh, yes!" breathed Susie in great relief. "Tabitha's taken the rest of the children down to the river, and we're all alone."

"The river?"

"The Colorado. We often go there when we can get the assayer's horses, but the wagon won't hold us all, so we three stayed at home to-day."

"And had ice-cream sodas for being good," added Irene.

"We wanted to make some taffy," mourned Inez, ruefully eyeing the blackened mass which the mysterious stranger was deftly removing from the stove and floor.

"'Twas so lonesome here by ourselves," supplemented Susie apologetically, remembering that she was responsible for the candy suggestion.

"So 'while the cat's away the mice will play'," chuckled the man, beginning a vigorous scraping of the sticky kettle.

"Why, how did you know her name was Catt?" cried Irene in amazement.

"Goosie!" exclaimed Susie sarcastically.

"He didn't know. That's not what he meant. But truly, mister, I don't think Tabitha would have minded a bit if our candy had come out all right. As 'tis, we've wasted such a lot of m'lasses and sugar that I reckon she'll scold--"

"If she ever finds it out," broke in Inez.

"That's it-if she ever finds it out," chuckled the man again. "Who is this mysterious Tabitha that you are so scared of?"

"We ain't scared of her," protested Susie loyally. "Her name is Tabitha Catt, and she's taking care of us while mamma is with papa at the hospital in Los Angeles. She's only a girl herself, but we promised to mind her so mamma could go, and not fret about us all the time, and we're trying hard to keep our promise."

"But sometimes we forget," said truthful Irene. "We oughtn't to have made that candy, 'cause we told her we wouldn't get into mischief while she was gone. I guess that's why it burnt up."

"I guess it's no such thing!" Inez contradicted hotly. "You made such a fuss over nothing that Susie and me forgot to watch it and it boiled over."

"I guess you'd have made a fuss if I'd blistered your hand like you did mine," cried Irene in great indignation, suddenly remembering her grievance, and affectionately regarding the white blister on her plump hand. "Then on top of that you told me to suck it off, when you knew it was boiling hot and would skin my whole mouth."

"Tut, tut!" interrupted the stranger, seeing that a quarrel was imminent. "Now don't get mad all at once. I've a proposition to make to you--"

"A what?" asked Susie, glad she had taken no part in the flare-up between the twins.

"A bargain. I'll make you a mess of candy that'll pop your eyes out if you will give me a square meal,-something to eat, you know, and plenty of it. I'm hungry as the deuce, and candy ain't very filling. Is it a go?"

Susie looked at her crestfallen companions, and they looked at her.

"There were no potatoes left from dinner," began Irene.

"But there's any number of cans of stuff in the pantry," said Inez hastily.

"Salmon and sardines and veal loaf and corned beef and vegetables," added Susie hopefully, yet fearful lest the menu should not prove sufficiently tempting to the queer, unexpected, unknown visitor. "And Tabitha cut the cake for dinner."

"Besides cookies and crackers and bread," murmured Irene, seeing reproof in her sisters' eyes, and feeling that she had been inhospitable to their hungry guest.

"Good!" promptly answered the man. "I reckon we'll make out. Just open a tin of salmon, make a pot of strong coffee, and bring on your bread and cake and sauce-lots of it, now, for I haven't had a bite to eat since last night. Lost my money, you know, and it hurts a decent fellow's pride to beg."

The trio nodded sympathetically, and hurried to do his bidding, while he rapidly measured out fresh supplies of sugar and syrup, and briskly began stirring the mass over the fire, talking all the while. "I just happened to be passing when I smelled your stuff burning, and thinks I, now there's trouble in there. Just then you all commenced screaming, and I was sure the house was a-fire, so I rushed in to help. Good gracious, but I was scared for a minute when I see the flames jumping so high. You might have had an explosion any minute."

"Yes," gravely agreed the girls, the look of terror returning to their eyes.

"If it hadn't been for you, I reckon the house would have burned down, and it's the only one we've got," said Irene.

He nodded. "I understand, and so I thought you wouldn't begrudge me a bite to eat, after I had put out the fire and cleaned up the clutter so Tabitha wouldn't know that you had been in mischief."

"Course we're glad to give you something to eat," Inez again hastily interrupted. "'Specially when you are making us some more candy. Are you ready for your-lunch-now?"

"In a jiffy. Just grease a pan for this dope and I'll pour it out to cool. Bet it beats yours all hollow. There! Set it in the window-so! Now, I'll sample your larder. Looks fine and smells bully. Which store is best here in town?"

"Brinkley's," promptly answered the trio, with longing eyes fixed upon the golden flood of syrup cooling in the window.

"Though Dawley's is bigger," added Irene.

"Do they make much money?"

"They ought to. Prices are high enough," answered Susie with a comically grown-up air.

"Most of the miners trade at Dawley's, 'cause he don't hurry 'em so about paying," said Inez naively. "But the Carsons and Catts and Dr. Hayes, and those folks buy at Brinkley's, 'cause his stuff is nicer."

"We did trade there," began Irene, but Susie interrupted, "Most of our stuff comes from Los Angeles now. It's cheaper to trade that way, and anyhow, papa knows the man real well, and now that he's sick in the hospital, he doesn't have to worry about pay day all the time, for this man will wait till he is well enough to work again."

"When is pay day?" casually inquired the man. "I mean how often does it come?"

"Once a month-the fifteenth."

The stranger's eyes glittered with satisfaction, and he muttered, "The fifteenth,-that's to-morrow."

"What did you say?" asked Susie.

"I was just thinking," he replied, glancing uneasily from one bright face to the other to see if any of the children had caught his indiscreet remark. "By the way, who lives in that little, unpainted house on the edge of town?" He pointed vaguely over his shoulder, and the sisters looked at each other in bewilderment.

"The pest house?" suggested Irene.

"The Ramsey place?" said Inez questioningly.

"The haunted house?" ventured Susie. "You see, there are so many unpainted houses on the edge of town."

"The haunted house!" laughed the stranger incredulously. "Whoever heard tell of a haunted house in a mining camp!"

"Silver Bow has one," stoutly asserted the twins.

"Where? Which one? I confess I am curious."

"It's the last one on the East End Lode," replied Susie with dignity, feeling that the reputation of her town was at stake.

"The queer old shack beyond Tabitha's," added Inez.

"There are only three houses in that hollow," explained Irene. "The Carson's big house, the Catt's littler one, and this haunted house."

"What haunts it?" jeered the man, pushing back from the table and glancing sharply down the trail toward town.

"A-a ghost," the twins half whispered.

"A man killed himself there once," said Susie.

"Or was murdered," shuddered Inez.

"Or else he just died," put in practical-minded Irene. "Anyway, they found him there dead."

"And sometimes now folks hear queer things there."

"And see lights."

"Tabitha never has," Irene declared. "And she lives nearest it."

"Well, 't any rate, it's haunted and no one ever goes there now, not even Tabitha, who ain't afraid of a thing."

The stranger rose slowly to his feet, yawned as if bored by their chatter, picked up his hat, and started for the door; then paused, and casually surveying the pan of taffy on the window sill, remarked, "Believe if I was you, I'd eat that all up before the rest of the folks get back. There's just about enough for three, and I've a notion that Miss Tabitha will think you didn't keep your promise very well if she ever finds out how near you came to setting the house a-fire. She'll never dare trust you again. It might be well not to mention that I dropped in, either. Tramps aren't often welcome visitors, even in a mining camp, you know. But I appreciate your dinner, and thank you kindly. Good-day, ladies."

"Good-day," they echoed mechanically, and with puzzled eyes watched him disappear in the direction of the railroad station on the flats. Then they faced each other.

"Do you s'pose we better-" began Susie slowly.

"Not tell?" ventured Inez.

"And eat all the candy ourselves?" added Irene.

There was a moment's pause while three active brains worked furiously.

Then Susie sighed, "I b'lieve he's right. Tabitha would never trust us again. We better keep still about the whole thing."

"Then we'll have to hurry and clear up this mess," said Irene. "We can hide the candy until later, but this table would give everything away."

So the trio flew to work again, put away the remains of the tramp's dinner, washed the telltale dishes, and had the kitchen in its usual spick and span order when the rest of the large family returned an hour later from their sojourn to the river. If their consciences pricked them a little for their deception, they said nothing, not even to each other; and it was several days before the young housekeeper discovered their secret.