CHAPTER VIII
THE BURGLAR IN THE CELLAR
ALL the time the Saint Bernard puppy had been telling Stubby, Button and Spot what the bull had done the barnyard had been filling with buggies, wagons, automobiles, hay wagons with straw in them to cover the rack and quilts to cover the hay so it would not stick in the girls’ dresses. Soon the yard was filled to its greatest capacity and the guests were beginning to drive into the yard where the corn crib was in which the Chums were hiding. It was a beautiful day and all had come to the wedding that could possibly get away.
“Boys,” said Button, “we will have to find another hiding-place for all these wagons and buggies have shut off our view.”
“Where shall we go?” asked Stubby. “Spot, you and the pup here know the place better than we do so perhaps you can suggest some place.”
“Let me see,” said Spot, holding her paw up to her face as old ladies do their forefingers to their mouths when thinking. “The only place I can think of is the cellar. But how we are to get in there without being seen by some of these people is more than I can tell.”
“I have it!” spoke up the puppy. “We can sneak out of here and go away around back of the barn and farm buildings and through the orchard until we come to the fence that separates the orchard from the farmhouse lawn. Then we can crawl through and approach the house from the back. There will be no one around there now as they are all busy at the other side of the house where the summer kitchen is. We can creep along from the back of the house to the side window of the cellar that is always left open and we can jump through. It is over the potato bin which is in one corner of the cellar and we can stay in the bin until the family start for church. Should anyone come into the cellar they would not see us, as it has high sides and, besides, it is always dark in that corner.”
“You’re right,” agreed Spot. “That will be a dandy place to hide. But hiding isn’t the best part of the plan. We will be in the house to eat up what goodies are left from the feast. And we might be able to find and pick up a tidbit or two from the floor while they are at the church. If we were outside the house, we would probably be locked out, but once inside we don’t care if we are locked up for an hour or so.”
This plan was considered a good one and in a few minutes you could have seen first a white cat with black spots poke her head under the orchard fence and peer around cautiously in all directions before pulling her whole body through the fence. Then she made running leaps toward the open cellar window and in a jiffy disappeared through it. Close on her heels came a black cat, and then a puppy, but he was too big to crawl through the hole. He had to stop and dig it out so he could squeeze through and while he was doing this, a little stubby-tailed dog took a flying leap over the fence, followed by two white goats, all of which made straight for the cellar window and jumped in. But just before they jumped, Stubby and Button stared in amazement at Billy and Nannie, for it was the first time they had seen them since their return. How was it that Nannie had come back with Billy? But they hadn’t time to ask any questions now.
The potatoes were piled high in the bin close up against the wall. This eased their jump from the window to the floor. But when they landed, it sent the potatoes rolling and they came bang up against the wooden partition at the bottom and made a racket. It chanced that a maid was just leaving the cellar with a pan of milk. Hearing the racket in the dark corner of the cellar, she thought it must be a rat. Being particularly afraid of rats, she screamed and ran for the stairs. In her hurry she stepped on the front of her dress which threw her on her face on the stairs. She dropped the pan of milk which turned over and went rattlety bang to the foot of the stairs and along the cellar floor.
“Now there will be the dickens to pay!” exclaimed Billy. “That maid has made such a racket, she will bring the whole household upon us. We must hide quickly. Nannie, run under the cellar stairs and squeeze yourself in the corner as far as you can. I’ll hide behind that big packing box in the opposite corner.”
All this noise attracted the attention of Mrs. Stevenson, who hastened to the cellar door.
“Why, Hulda! What is the matter? Are you hurt?”
“No, ma’am, but there is a rat in the cellar and I am afraid he will get me.”
“You silly girl to make such a fuss over a rat! It won’t hurt you. Don’t you know that they are more afraid of you than you are of them?”
“Maybe, but I hate them and am afraid they will get on me. Do help me, Mrs. Stevenson! I am all mixed up in my dress and can’t get up.”
She had stepped on the front breadth and instead of stepping off it backward, she was still walking up the front, tearing it as she struggled.
While Mrs. Stevenson was helping her, something deplorable happened. Stubby sneezed. He absolutely could not help it.
“What was that? Who is there?” asked Mrs. Stevenson in a frightened voice. She thought right away that it was no rat Hulda had heard, but a burglar who had hidden himself in the cellar to steal the wedding presents when the family had left the house to go to the church. She grabbed Hulda by the shoulder and they both flew up the stairs and slammed the door.
“Now we are in for it!” said Stubby.
“Yes, they will tell the men and in a jiffy they will be down here with sticks, canes, stove-pokers and brooms,” said Button. “We must get out of here as quickly as we can, and stay out until they are gone.”
“But how am I to get out?” said the puppy. “I am so fat that I had to squeeze through the window and then fall in, but I can’t jump up.”
“You are about the color of potatoes,” said Stubby. “Get in the darkest part of the bin, keep your eyes closed and your head between your paws and you will look like an old piece of carpet or a fuzzy mat. But on your life don’t open your eyes! They will shine in the darkness and give you away. Now hurry and crawl down and I will roll a lot of potatoes on you.”
“Hark! I hear someone coming. I must go!” and Stubby hunched himself, jumped through the window and joined the others just as three men armed with revolvers, pokers and canes, carrying lamps and candles high over their heads, entered the cellar. The puppy could hear them but he did not move and he kept his eyes shut and his head between his fore paws. He could hear them rummaging between boxes and barrels and talking all the time. They loudly ordered the burglar or whoever was there to come out and give himself up before they found him and beat him to a jelly. “If you come out and give yourself up, we won’t beat you,” they promised.
At that moment one of them stepped on a board and it flew up and hit him on the shins. This noise made the man with the lamp jump and he hit the chimney on a hanging shelf which knocked it crooked. To straighten it he put it down on the packing box Billy was hiding behind. But horrors! what was that he heard? Just like someone breathing, and at that moment he spied two big eyes looking at him. He dropped the lamp into the box and it would soon have set fire to the house as it was full of old papers, had not Billy, in his endeavors to save himself, upset the box. This turned its contents on the flames and put them out, while Billy ran across the cellar and jumped out the window.
In his haste to escape he ran into one of the other men, knocked him over and out went the candle. The remaining man stepped in the spilt milk and fell in front of the two whose lights had gone out. There all three lay in a heap on the floor imagining the burglars were after them. At this moment someone opened the cellar door and let in a flood of light. Seeing three men on the floor with their legs and arms flying, they thought it was a fight, so shut the door, bolted it and ran for help.
When Nannie saw the men fighting and Billy jumping out the window, she left her hiding-place and started to follow Billy. But alas! in her hurry she did not see a tub of cucumber pickles and she fell head first into it. She stepped out with brine dripping from her hair into her eyes and a lot of little pickles strung on her horns. When Billy saw her, he rolled on the grass with laughter.
“The fool!” exclaimed one of the men on the floor. “Why didn’t she leave that door open so we could see?”
At last they untangled themselves and got up and tried to find the stairs in the dark. Having no matches, they could not relight their candles. The only ray of light in the whole cellar was a faint gleam from the window over the potato bin. One man went toward it, hoping to find it large enough to crawl through, but when he was within a few feet of the bin, he thought he heard someone breathing. He listened. Yes, it was surely a person breathing regularly. This frightened him until his legs trembled under him and he tried to run but they wobbled so he could not. He tried to call to the other men but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth and he could not make a sound. While this was happening, another man had started for the window and in groping his way toward it he touched the frightened man who was standing still in the dark. He turned to run he knew not where, but just as far as he could get from the man he had touched. In his hurry he did not heed where he was going. The next thing he knew he stubbed his toe and he too fell headlong into the tub of pickles.
By this time more men appeared at the head of the stairs and came down into the cellar with a lantern. They searched and searched but all they found was the three frightened men and a little old woolly mat in the potato bin. So they left the cellar, some arguing there was no burglar there, while the others argued there was. What could sneeze and breathe and feel like flesh and blood? The last the puppy heard of them they were calling one another cowards and fools, as they slammed the cellar door. But he heard one man say: “I thought I came to a wedding, but I seem to have come to a bull fight and a burglar chase! Goodness knows what else will take place before they are really married!”
Now this wedding was to be an old-fashioned one like they have in the rural districts of Europe, where the bride and the bridesmaids in all their finery without hats or wraps, the groom and all the guests walk in a procession along the country roads or over the fields to the church. The Chums had decided to wait until the wedding procession left the house and then go into the kitchen and look for goodies. At last all had gotten over their fright of bulls and burglars and were smiling and happy as they left the house, little dreaming of what was going to happen then.
The Chums all hid behind some bushes in the yard to watch the bridal party start. First came a boy of about sixteen, dressed in knee breeches, white shirt and blue velvet waistcoat, with a tiny red cap embroidered in gold set on one side of his head. As he led the procession he played on a much beribboned flute.
At a signal the bride and groom followed him, and behind them the father and mother of the bride, and after them came the rest of the guests two by two. It was a bright, beautiful day and the wedding procession made a very picturesque sight as it wound its way across the green fields and over the stile at the bottom of the hill. There too they had to cross a little gurgling stream on stepping stones and then wend their way up a shaded path to the church on the top of a hill.
But the fates must have been against them that day, for they were only half way up the first hill when who should come running at full speed toward them but the big Durham bull chased by none other than Billy Whiskers himself and another goat like him. Once the bull stopped and turned to show fight, but Billy and Nannie made a plunge at him from either side and ran their sharp horns into him. He turned and raced down the road. All he thought of then was to reach his stall in the barn where he would be safe from these awful bossy, cross old goats that were so quick he could not get a chance to hook them, kick them or stamp on them.
But alas! when he reached the lane, the gate was locked and barred. Though he threw his weight against it, he could not break it down. He ran on down the road, looking for some place to slip in to dodge the old goats. He had gone only a short distance when he came to a place where the bars were down where the wedding party had passed through.
Through this he went, and seeing a lot of people in the distance he ran toward them, thinking perhaps they would drive off his tormentors. All unconscious of impending disaster, the wedding party was wending its way to the church, keeping time to the music of the flute and some of the guests singing as they went. It must have been the singing that prevented their hearing the bull’s heavy tread as he ran toward them. He had gotten within fifty feet of them when he stopped running and gave a loud bellow.
If a thunderbolt had sounded from the clear sky, they could not have been more surprised, and of course it threw them in a panic. They ran in all directions, the men either dragging the girls along with them or catching them up in their arms and running for safety. The poor old father and mother of the bride were so stunned and frightened they could not move from where they stood. They just dropped to their knees and prayed to be saved.
The bride, groom and piper were considerably ahead of the others. The groom, seeing a big tree with low limbs ahead of him, picked the bride up in his arms and ran to it. He succeeded in lifting the bride into a crotch of the tree between two big limbs, but before he himself could climb up, the bull was upon him. He dodged around the trunk of the tree and the bull plunged full force into it. He butted it so hard that for a few seconds he stood still, showing it had hurt him badly. Then seeing a long white thing flopping in the breeze and wrapping itself around his head and tickling his nose, he backed off to give it another butt. Just then those terrible goats came running after him again and gave him such a hooking and butting that he turned and ran for the ravine. Billy and Nannie were close on his heels, hooking him every time he tried to slow down to get breath.
But alas! He was carrying the bride’s veil away with him. It had become fastened around his horns and when he started to run it had jerked it from the bride’s head. After the wedding party had watched the two goats chase the bull down into a ravine out of sight, they all got together again and one of the bridesmaids saw the veil on the ground where it had fallen and ran and got it. After straightening it out, she put it on the bride’s head, not much the worse for its hard usage. The procession started again for the church, and I am happy to say that no other mishaps befell them. Had there, I am afraid the bride’s nerves would have given way entirely.