Head of the House Read online

  “Well, she’s not going to have the chance!” said Jennifer, snatching the telegram, tearing it across into little bits, and stuffing them into a minute pocket of her blouse. “But say, Jerry, what are we going to do? And you certainly don’t want the Storm to be our policeman?”

  “I should say not!” said Jeremy. “Before that I’d beat it and go round the world or something. Abby Storm isn’t going to tell me where to get off.”

  “Oh, you would, would you? You’d go off alone and have a good time and leave your family to suffer whatever came to them, would you? Well, if that’s the way you feel, it isn’t worthwhile to waste my time talking to you, for there isn’t much time to waste, I’m telling you!”

  Jennifer held her head high and, turning on her heels, walked crisply out of the stable and up the driveway.

  Jeremy stared after in dismay.

  “Hey! Jen! Come back here!” he called. “Come on back! Oh heck! Whaddaya haveta get up in the air for? Come on back! I didn’t mean that!”

  But Jennifer walked swiftly on around the drive toward the high hedge where the children were playing, and Jeremy presently started after her full tilt, catching up with her and striding along by her side.

  “What’s eating ya, Jen?” he said. “I don’t mean I’d go away and leave ya all. Of course I wouldn’t! What d’ya think we oughtta do? D’ya want me ta go in there where the lawyer’s supposed ta be and tell them all where ta get off?”

  “No,” said Jennifer. “That would be the worst thing you could do. They’ve got a bad enough opinion of us all now. You ought to hear them talk! But I haven’t time to tell you here. We’ve got to get busy, and we’ve got to do it on the q.t. If they once suspect we’re onto them, our goose is cooked, and no mistake!”

  “I suppose so,” said Jeremy dejectedly. “With all that outfit against us we sure won’t have very smooth sailing. Say, Jen, what if I hunt up Uncle Blake—”

  “No!” said Jennifer sharply. “Uncle Blake’s all right in his place, but he can’t do a thing. Not if those aunts get started. You let me manage, Jerry. I’ve got a plan, only you’ve got to go the whole show or I won’t count you in.”

  “Aw! Whaddaya mean, Jen? I’m with ya, of course. I’m the man of the house, only they won’t think so. If I was only a few years older I’d make ’em all stand around and tell ’em ta get out of our house and let us alone.”

  They were coming toward the house now and the voices of the cook and waitress could be heard in animated discussion.

  “You’d better turn off here, Jerry,” whispered his sister. “Go around the other side of the house and slide up to your room by way of the balcony. Get a pencil and paper and all the money you have, and then after a minute or two, you go up to the old playroom and wait there till I come. But don’t let anybody see you go!”

  “Okay,” said Jeremy, watching her keenly and then turning off briskly as he was bidden. His sister fairly flew across the grass and entered the shelter of the tall hedge around the playground.

  She went first to the hammock and whispered to Hazel. “Hazel, take your book and slip up the back stairs to the playroom, but don’t let one of the aunts see you or know where you are going. If they come around, just slip into your own room and wait there till they are gone. Hurry! And don’t tell anyone I told you to go. I’ll be up in a minute or two.”

  “Okay.”

  Hazel rose slowly, apathetically, from her hammock, her eyes still on her book, and went dawdling down across the grass, reading as she walked. The story was so absorbing that she hadn’t noticed the suppressed earnestness in Jennifer’s voice. She thought it was only some bid to get dressed for dinner or to go somewhere, and she was much more interested in her story than in going anywhere. Probably to visit some old relative or something, she thought contemptuously as she sauntered languidly along.

  Jennifer went over to the tennis court and signaled her young brother Tryon, and of course Heather promptly came over to the conference also.

  “I want to see you two up in the playroom in about five minutes,” she said in a low tone, casting a swift look toward the house. “You don’t want anybody to know anything about it either, see? Just play on here for another game or two, and then act as if you were tired and walk slowly toward the house. Don’t come together, either. Go around the other side the house so the servants won’t see you, and go up the back stairs. Go one of you at a time! Heather, you go first, and Tryon, you go hang around the garage a minute or two. Not too long, and then slip up quietly. Do you understand?”

  “What’s doing, Jen?” asked the boy.

  “Never mind. I’ll tell you all together. Don’t for anything tell anybody, not even the servants, that I told you to come upstairs. Just go up as if you were going to your own room. You can manage it. I don’t want any of those relatives to know where we are, see?”

  “Sure thing!” said Tryon and turned immediately back to his game. Not that the rest of the game was very well played, but they played, those two, with eager young determined faces and busy wondering minds. There was a look of their dead father in their faces as they accepted their role and went forward in this program that their sister had set for them. She didn’t usually have much time anymore to interest herself in them, but now sorrow had leveled their lives together as when they were small children, and Jennifer was the nearest to a mother that was left.

  With a matter-of-fact manner Jennifer went to the other end of the enclosure and watched the other two children for an instant, then walked firmly over to them.

  “Karen, Robin, come on upstairs with me. I’ve got something to talk to you about.”

  “I isn’t been doing nussin’ naughty!” said Robin, with suddenly alarmed eyes. “Did my nurse say I had?”

  “No, of course not, honey. I haven’t seen your nurse. But I want you all upstairs a few minutes. It’s something nice, so you needn’t worry. I think perhaps I’ve got a few pieces of candy up in my room. Do you want some?”

  “Wes!” said Robin, delightedly hopping down from the swing. “Is we going to your room?”

  “No, we’re going up in the playroom, but I’ll get the candy and bring it up. Come on.”

  She held out a hand to each, and they came happily enough. Their older sister hadn’t been noticing them much of late. They had a forlorn feeling that the world was made up of nurses and cooks and they must walk carefully alone to escape getting in the way of any of them. Nobody had had time to realize how desolate the two youngest had been since the accident.

  Jennifer had a sudden feeling of joy in the warm little hands that were nestled in her own, a sense that they were her special care now and it was to her they must look. She was surprised that it brought a tender, pleasurable thrill to her sad, fierce young heart. She squeezed the two confiding young hands, and Karen and Robin looked up at her and smiled with a sudden light like new sunshine in their apathetic little faces.

  “I like you, Jennifer,” said Karen wistfully. “I wish you would stay home with us always.”

  “Wes!” said Robin. “I viss you vass our nurse. I don’t wike hers wery much. She makes me vash my hands too much.”

  “Well, that’s too bad!” said the sister sympathetically. “But you don’t want to have dirty hands, do you?”

  “No, but I don’t wike her. I wiked my over nurse better.”

  “Well, that’s too bad, too,” said Jennifer, giving a little gasp at the thought of all the questions that must be waiting ahead for her to settle, things her father and mother used to manage.

  “Now,” she said briskly, “I’ll tell you what I want. I want to get you both upstairs to the playroom just as quietly as possible. You know, there are a lot of aunts and other people down in the living room, and we don’t want to disturb them while they are talking, so we are going up the kitchen stairs. See how very quietly you two can walk so you won’t make the least bit of sound on the stairs. Robin, where is your nurse?”

  He stopped short in
his tracks at the memory.

  “That’s all right, Robin, I’ll see she doesn’t spank you. Karen, you run to the kitchen and tell Cook to let Nurse know I took Robin upstairs. And then you come out the side door and meet us around the other side of the house. Understand?”

  Karen nodded and sped away on her errand. Jennifer led Robin around to the door at the other side of the house, and stealthily they stole up the back stairs.

  “Softly!” she warned in a whisper. “Don’t talk!”

  “Aw wight!” he whispered back, and a look of compliance came brightly into the eager little face. This was fun. This was a game. He gripped his sister’s hand and took slow, careful steps, with a great flourish of caution, stealing from one stair to another, lifting his fat legs up one at a time with a great effort.

  Jennifer had a sudden vision of what that sight would have been to the baby’s mother, and quick tears blurred into her eyes. She stooped and brushed her lips over the small gold curl at the back of the little boy’s neck and felt a deep rush of love such as she had never realized before. Her little motherless brother!

  Karen was behind them now, stealing up with exaggerated caution.

  At the head of the stairs they stole along the back hall to the third-story back stairs, which went straight up to the playroom.

  “Now, you slip softly up there and wait at the top of the stairs for me while I get that candy!” whispered Jennifer.

  They nodded delightedly, and she sped down the hall to her own room and was back like a flash with a large beautiful box of bonbons, as yet unopened, the quite recent gift of Peter Willis. It had come while she was too immersed in sudden sorrow to care for anything pleasant like that. And now in the light of what Aunt Majesta had said, it was almost revolting to her. Better get it out of her sight.

  Up in the big playroom, bright from a splendid skylight, Jennifer led her young brother and sister to the far corner where their toys had a special place on broad low shelves.

  “Now,” said Jennifer, placing two small chairs conveniently, “you may each choose one piece and sit down and eat it. Then you may take out some of your blocks, or any toy you choose that you can play with quietly. Remember, we have to be very quiet! We don’t want any people coming up here to interrupt us. We’ve got something very important to talk about.”

  The children settled down on the small chairs and surveyed the handsome box of bonbons with seraphic smiles, lingering, uncertain fingers hovering from one bright luring piece of sweetness to another. They finally settled down with possessiveness on their choice, eyes wide with awe at such privilege.

  Before they were fairly taking the first delirious lick, Hazel, her book still in her hand, came light footed, settled down on the big old denim-covered chaise lounge with a lovely dormer window just over her shoulder and went on reading.

  Jennifer stopped softly over beside her and plumped a bonbon in her mouth.

  “Mm-mm-mm! Thanks!” she murmured and went on with her reading.

  Jeremy came up the stairs so silently that they were not aware of his presence until he was among them, reaching over to his sister’s box of confectionery and helping himself.

  Then came Tryon, with Heather just a moment behind. They were a bit out of breath and carrying their shoes in their hands, having made as much as possible out of the dramatic side of the situation. They seated themselves cross-legged on the floor and then suddenly rose with outstretched hands for some of the candy.

  Jennifer passed the box around again, and while their mouths were well filled she began to talk. “Now, listen! You mustn’t make any noise no matter what I say, not one of you! If you want to speak, raise your hand!”

  They sat petrified, even their jaws ceasing action temporarily.

  “How many of you want to be separated? Raise your hand if you do.”

  The little huddled family sat quivering with horror at the thought that was presented. Not a hand was raised. Their wide-eyed attention culminated in a hoarse whisper from Tryon.

  “Whaddaya mean, separated? D’you mean have an operation?”

  Hazel stopped reading long enough to giggle at that, but Jeremy looked grave and slid down on the floor beside his younger brother with a protective attitude.

  “No, kid, she just means taken away from the rest of us!”

  “Oh! Not on yer life I don’t!” said Tryon, a frightened look coming into his eyes. “Do we havta?”

  By this time Robin’s lip was puckered, and two great tears were gathering in his eyes.

  “I—don’t—vantta!” he burst forth. “I don’t vantta go avay fum you-all!”

  “No, of course not!” said Karen crossly. “We won’t go!”

  “Who wants us to?” burst forth Heather. “Some aunts? What right have they?”

  “They haven’t any!” said Hazel, sitting up sharply and letting her book fall on the floor. “They shan’t get me, I know that, old bossy things!” There was young fury in her face.

  “There, now, don’t get noisy!” said Jennifer sharply. “I just wanted to find out how you feel about it. And here’s another question: How many of you would like to stay here and have Cousin Abigail Storm come and take care of you?”

  There was another awful silence while the Graeme children stared at one another in consternation.

  “Not on yer life!” ejected Tryon.

  “I’d wun avay!” declared Robin, with belligerent eyes and trembling lip. “I’d take my Karen and wun avay!”

  “I’d put pins and tacks in her bed!” declared Heather.

  “Well, that would be the only thing that would make me willing to go away to boarding school!” declared Hazel, who dearly loved home.

  “Well,” said Jennifer with satisfaction, “I thought you’d feel that way, so we’re not going to let either of those things happen. But you’ve all got to promise to be just as good as good can be, and help us, so Jerry and I can work things. We mustn’t let the aunts or uncles suspect. And we mustn’t let the servants get onto it at all. How many are willing to be good and do just what they are told?”

  Their hands came up eagerly.

  “All right! Then we’re all set. And the first thing is to stay right here in this room and keep very quiet for a while. We can’t do much till those relatives are done with their meeting downstairs. But you’ve got to keep so quiet they’ll forget all about you, so they won’t come nosing around. I suspect they’ll be around to take some of us home for the night or something, but if any of them come up here hunting you, you just be sitting here quietly playing or reading.”

  “Jerry, too?” asked Tryon.

  “No, Jerry and I have a lot of things to do, if we’re going to work this thing, so you mustn’t ask any questions, just play along, or look at picture books or read, and act as if you were having a perfectly lovely time, and if they ask you if you want to go home with them, you just say, ‘No, thank you, you’d rather stay with sister!’”

  “Aw wight!” said Robin. “But aren’t we going to have any wunch? ’Course we could eat candy!” And he eyed the candy box wistfully.

  “Yes,” said Jennifer, looking at her watch, “you’re going to have lunch pretty soon. I think I’ll have it brought up here, just sandwiches and cocoa, and you can pass the candy box afterward twice for dessert.”

  “Nat’s nice!” Robin smiled.

  “All right, then Karen and Heather can get out the doll’s table and dishes and set the table. You can play that Hazel and Tryon and Robin are your guests coming to lunch. And when the tray comes you can serve everybody. But don’t get into any fights or make any noise, for if you do, maybe Aunt Pet or Aunt Majesta will come up and take you right away home with them, and then all our plans will be spoiled. Now, will you all promise to be good?”

  They all promised solemnly.

  “All right, then. Go on playing for a few minutes while Jerry and I make plans. Remember, if anybody slips up on his promise we’ll maybe not be able to work things, and we might h
ave to be separated after all.”

  Robin bowed solemnly and answered for them all: “Wes. Ve vill!”

  Then Jennifer and Jeremy retired to the top of the stairs and sat down, speaking in low voices.

  “Jerry, I’ve been thinking. We got to run away!”

  “Run away!” said the boy, catching a startled breath. “You mean all of us?”

  “Of course!” she said coolly. “We’ve got to. It’s the only way.”

  “But how?” He drew his brows in puzzled thought. “Where would we run?”

  “Where isn’t so important just now. The thing is to go, and get off before anybody has any idea we’re going, don’t you see?”

  “Well, but—with all these kids, how could we? Somebody would be sure to tell those nosy aunts, and we’d have the whole town on us.”

  “Listen, Jerry! We’ve got to get them all away where they won’t find us till I’m of age. When I’m of age I can do something, and they can’t stop me. It’s only three months, and I guess we can hide ourselves that long. But it’s got to be snappy or they’ll tie our hands and make a mess of things. I haven’t thought it all out yet, but we’ve got to get away first, and then work it out step by step.”

  “But they’ll set up a howl and send all the police in the nation after us,” said Jeremy wisely.

  “No,” said Jennifer, “I’ll write a note to Uncle Blake and tell him we are all safe and will come back as soon as I’m of age and that there is no use looking for us for they won’t find us.”

  “They’ll look!”

  “Maybe. But we’ve got to fix it so they can’t find us. We’ll think about that after we get away.”

  “But we’d have to have money.”

  “Yes,” said Jennifer. “I’d thought about that. I’ve got a little over a hundred in the bank, I’ve been saving up. A lucky thing I hadn’t spent it yet. I’ll scout around and see what else I can find. Maybe Dad left some in the safe. He taught me the combination. I’ll see. Of course, if there isn’t any there we’ll have to sell something, but not tonight. The thing is to get away. How much have you got? Any?”