The Moffats (7 page)

"Hey yourself, Bob," answered the engineer, grinning and leaning out of the cab.

"Listen, Dick; here are two kids—lost—come on a freight train from Cranbury—they gotta be returned. How about stopping thirty seconds to let them off?"

"Couldn't be done," answered the engineer. "Bay State never stops in Cranbury—straight through to New York."

Rufus's heart sank. So did Hughie's. However, they both had faith in this man, Bob, of theirs.

Bob said, "Well, the New York, New Haven, and Hartford got them here. The way I look at it, they ought to git 'em back."

"M-m-m," said the engineer, "ask the Stationmaster."

"Wait here," said Bob to Rufus and Hughie.

Then Bob tore down the station and it seemed only a second before he was back.

Inside the station, that voice could be heard,

"Last call for Bay State Express—track nine. Bay State Express—track nine."

"'Board," cried the conductors.

"He says yup," said Bob, boosting Rufus and Hughie into the engine cab.

Then whistles sounded, a huge blast of steam went up into the sky—the train was off. Hughie and Rufus waved their caps after Bob, whom they could see for a second waving his cap after them.

Goodness, this train was just speeding along. Of course, Rufus and Hughie couldn't stand too close to the engineer. But they could watch the fireman, and they saw enough to see that running an engine was a marvelous job.

The express whizzed over the tracks the freight train had taken so long to cross a little while before. Rufus and Hughie could hardly tell where they were. And in exactly three minutes after leaving the New Haven station, the express train came to a stop—the fireman lifted the two boys down—the engineer grinned and waved to them, and off the train went with everybody aboard staring out the window to find out why the express, that wasn't supposed to stop until it reached New York, had stopped in this funny little town.

Rufus and Hughie waved after the train until it was just a speck in the distance. Then Rufus thought about school again.

"Come on now," he said, "we better get back to school."

"Do you have to go to school to be an engineer?" asked Hughie.

"Of course you do. That engineer named Dick, well, once't he was in Room One, too," replied Rufus, thinking this out laboriously.

"All right then, I'll go to school." Hughie finally gave in.

And the two boys returned to Miss Andrews's room. They took their places just in time to be dismissed to go home to lunch.

"Class, stand," the teacher was saying.

What a Sunday that was! Mama thought she would never get them off to Sunday School. Usually this was accomplished simply enough. Of course they could all dress themselves and neatly blacken their high shoes. All Mama had to do was to look them over when they had finished to see that all was as neat as possible, maybe to jerk Rufus's red tie in place. Then the four Moffats might go into the front yard and play quietly, or better still, not play at all but read over their Sunday School lessons until the church bells rang.

These Sunday mornings before Sunday School were very trying to Rufus. Rufus didn't have any lessons to learn in Sunday School because he was in the kindergarten class. Oh, occasionally a picture to color or a little verse from the Bible to learn, but usually nothing.

This Sunday Rufus was having a harder time than ever waiting for Sunday School. He was all dressed up and he couldn't do anything. He would have liked to jump over and over the hitching post in front of the house. Mama did not allow this, though, because he might get grass stains on his white stockings. Or he would have liked to sail boats on the puddles left in the gutter from last night's rain. But Mama did not allow this, either, because he might fall in. This was not allowed and that was not allowed. Every Sunday the same old thing, waiting and waiting in his best sailor suit for the church bells.

He wandered around to the backyard and gathered up some of the hard green grapes the rain and the wind had knocked off the arbor during the night. These he stuffed into his pocket in case he should see that Peter Frost. Who knows? He might have a chance to fire them at him.

Then he joined the others on the front porch. Jane was trying to learn her "duty toward her neighbor." She had learned her "duty toward God," but somehow her "duty toward her neighbor" just would not stay in her head. Oh, dear, she would never get out of the catechism class until it did. Already she had been longer in that class than any other girl except Letitia Murdock, who was stuck with her "duty toward God."

Rufus sat down with his back to the railing. Jane read her "duty toward her neighbor" out loud for the hundredth time. Then she tried to repeat it from memory. No use! Halfway through she stumbled and groped for the right words. Rufus supplied them for her and on she went.

Rufus knew it perfectly and he was only in the kindergarten! He had heard Jane read it so often, it just stayed in his head without his even trying to learn it. Just like when Sylvie was learning her Latin. "Bonus, bona, bonum." Rufus always got it as soon as she did. Or Joe his history. "First-shot-Civil-War-shot-Fort-Sumter-four-o'clock-in-the-morning." Rufus could say it just like that.

Suddenly Rufus became aware of a damp feeling spreading down his legs. He leaped up! Those green grapes! All squashed! Oh! His best suit ruined!

That was the first time he had to have his suit changed and Mama wasn't any too pleased naturally, busy as she was with the pot roast and onions for the Sunday dinner.

When Rufus was all dressed again in his second-best sailor suit and it was nearly time to start for Sunday School, he climbed onto the hitching post to wait for Janey and Sylvie to tie on their hats. He wasn't jumping over the hitching post. He was just sitting on it. Sitting there quietly, staring at his reflection in the puddle, wishing he had a magic belt around his waist covered with push buttons and chains. Push one button and out would come an ice-cream sandwich. Push another and a shower of caramels would fall into his hands. Another and a dish of pot roast and onions...

Suddenly, right in his ear ...
Whe-e-e...

Peter Frost's bike siren! Splash! Off the hitching post went Rufus! Into the mud puddle! That Peter Frost had

approached silently and swiftly on his bicycle. As he sped past Rufus he thought: What fun to startle Rufus with a terrific screech on his siren. So, poor Rufus!

That was the second time he had to have his clothes changed.

Of course, Mama didn't like this one bit, but Janey and Sylvie assured her it really had not been Rufus's fault this time, and if Mama herself had been sitting on the hitching post, she, too, would have fallen off.

At this moment the church bells pealed—the low-pitched bells of their church and the high-pitched ones of Peter Frost's church. It was time to start. Mama kissed each one of them and the four started solemnly up the street. At last they were off—Rufus in one of his everyday sailor suits.

"Keep hold of Rufus's hand, Joey," called Mama after them. "And give my regards to the Reverend Gandy," she said, waving her blue-checked apron and watching them until they had passed the Pudges'.

At the corner of Elm Street, Sylvie suddenly said, "Goodness, there goes Edie Ellenbach. It must be late. I'll have to hurry to get in place in the choir. Joey, don't let Rufus climb the flagpole on the Green. See you after Sunday School. Good-bye."

Then she flew down Elm Street with her curls flying, calling, "Edie! Edie!"

The other three stood at the corner for a moment, waiting for a slow-moving horse and wagon to pass by.

"Maybe it's the peanut man," said Rufus, thoughtfully fingering his penny meant for the Sunday School plate.

"Or the flying horse wagon," said Jane, shaking her little patent leather pocketbook to hear her two pennies clink together.

"S'neither," said Joe. "S'the Salvation Army man."

The driver drew up at the curb beside them.

"Hi!" he said. "Which road takes me to Orchard Grove?"

Joe thought rapidly. The road to Orchard Grove led past the Green. Right where they were going. A lift! A ride in a horse and wagon!

"If you'll give us a lift, we'll show you," said Joe. "We're going that way ourselves."

"Hop up," agreed the man.