Ginger Pye (7 page)

"S'long," said Sam.

"S'long," said Jerry and Rachel; and they made a dash for their own front door.

They rushed in and they went into their dark little parlor and, lifting the stiff net curtains, they looked out. They saw a person glide behind their big horse chestnut tree! And they saw this dark shadowy figure move off up the street.

"Did you see his hat?" asked Jerry.

"Not good," said Rachel. "It looked sort of orange or yellow. A funny color."

"Same man," said Jerry with satisfaction. At least he knew what the stranger's hat looked like. At least he knew that much. And he told Rachel about the person leaping across the telephone poles up at Speedys'. Now that he recalled that scene, it seemed as though the person had been sort of crouching as he leaped. "Sneaky, like," he told Rachel. And he suggested also that maybe it had been this man with the hat that Rachel thought she had seen in the doorway of the church, and not the Reverend Gandy.

"Oh-h," gasped Rachel, there being so many developments to take in. She certainly hoped it had been the minister and not the man with the hat. She

would rather be cast out of church, she thought, than to have had the man with the hat snooping on them that long!

"How'd you know it was a man?" asked Rachel.

"Man's hat," said Jerry.

"Oh, of course," said Rachel.

"Beats me," said Jerry. "If he wanted to grab the puppy, why didn't he? He had plenty of chance all the long way home."

"Um-m-m," said Rachel, puzzled. "Maybe he just wanted to see where we live."

"Jiminy. We should have doubled on our tracks and thrown him off," said Jerry.

"We didn't though. Here we are and now he knows where we live. Do you think he would steal the puppy sometime?"

"No. We'll always be with the puppy."

"School starts Tuesday."

"We'll tell Mama never to let him out of the yard. But we're dumbbells. We should have thrown him off our trail somehow."

"It happened so suddenly we didn't have time to think," said Rachel consolingly.

"Yes, but we're dumbbells. Tomorrow I'll ask Mrs. Speedy, you bet, who the other person was that wanted our puppy, so's we'll know who to watch out for."

"Um-m-m. Besides the hat."

Later they told Mama about the footsteps. The story did not sound sensible anymore. Maybe they had really imagined the whole business. Mama didn't seem to be paying much attention to the story of the "mysterious footstepper," or the "man with the hat," as the stranger was called by Rachel and Jerry. But that night she locked the doors extra carefully. "We don't want any unsavory characters roaming around," she said.

Mama liked the puppy. They all liked him. Gracie-the-cat had gone out for her night prowling. She was not yet introduced.

Gracie-the-cat took an immediate liking to the new member of the family. She was not at all jealous. After her first long incredulous stare when they were introduced the next morning, she tried to give the puppy a good washing. He accepted a lick or two but he would not stay still long enough for more and made a game of it. When he got too impudent Gracie gave him a cuffing, but she kept her claws in. And if he came pouncing on her during her nap she spit at him. But, all in all, her feelings toward the puppy were tolerant and kindly.

In the bright light of morning it seemed nonsense to even remember about the mysterious footstepper. Nevertheless, Jerry rushed over to Mrs. Speedy's the first thing in the morning to find out who the fellow was who had also wanted to buy his dog. He wanted some idea, besides a hat, as to whom to be
on guard against. But instead of Mrs. Speedy leading the cows to pasture, he found Mr. Speedy.

Mr. Speedy said Mrs. Speedy had been struck in the night with a stroke and would be in the hospital for some time. Mr. Speedy was not the friendly type. He did not like children standing around watching him milk or churn or mow. Anyway, with Mrs. Speedy being sick, Jerry could not ask him if Mrs. Speedy had ever told him the odd thing of two people wanting the same puppy, Jerry being the one, and the other being the mystery. So he raced back home, knowing nothing.

This was Sunday and everyone was so interested in watching the puppy it was hard to do anything else. Rachel and Jerry were allowed to stay home from Sunday school this once, to play with the puppy. After all, they had spent yesterday in church—dusting pews, to be sure—but still in church.

Rachel appreciated the permission to stay home. However, she thought she'd better go to Sunday school anyway in case it had been the minister who had stood in the doorway yesterday while she was dusting the pulpit, and not the mysterious footstepper. She was almost certain, no matter what Jerry thought, that it had been the minister. How would the footstepper ever have known she and Jerry were

in church anyway? She didn't want to be cast out of the church for acting like a minister in a pulpit and she imagined that perfect attendance at Sunday school would lessen that likelihood.

She bade a reluctant farewell to her family and the new puppy and arrived at Sunday school just as church, which came first, was letting out. Mr. Gandy was standing in the doorway shaking hands with all the people. The organ was still pealing joyously, and Rachel stood watching the congregation pour out and stream across the Green. It was remarkable how differently she felt toward her church and the congregation now she had dusted the pews. She didn't feel like the minister, exactly. But she felt a rather protective fondness for the church. It would have pleased her to stand by the minister in the doorway and shake the hands of those he missed.

Had people noticed the special dusting the pews had had? Rachel wondered. She examined the back of Mrs. Widdemeyer's white cotton embroidered dress to see if there was any dust on it and there wasn't. She couldn't understand why they had to be so careful of Mrs. Widdemeyer's pew because Mrs. Widdemeyer always brought one of her husband's big white handkerchiefs along with her and spread it out on the pew before sitting down. You would think
they could skip dusting her part of the pew altogether, and likewise Judge Ball's, for he did the same with his handkerchief, not caring to get a speck on his black suit.

Tall Sam Doody came grinning out of church with a dark blue-purple suit on. It was not anyway near as splendid a suit as the dark green one he had had first, but naturally Rachel would not tell him this.

At last she went into the Parish House, wondering who had dusted it, and sat down in Miss Foote's class which was just coming to order. To counteract her behavior in the pulpit Rachel intended to make a good impression on the Sunday school teacher. But Miss Foote kept telling her please not to fidget so. The truth was Rachel could not take her mind off the puppy any longer and she was anxious to get home and see what cute thing he was doing now. Moreover, she had given the minister a good chance to cast her out if he wanted to cast her out. She had stood right in front of him, practically inviting him to cast her out. Yet he had not done so. The chances were he was not ever going to do so. So now, she might as well go home and see the puppy.

The puppy! Goodness, they had forgotten to name
him so far. They just called him "pup, pup." A dog couldn't go through life just being called "pup, pup." Supposing Uncle Bennie had never been given a name, but was called "baby, baby," all the time. It would be the same thing and all wrong. When finally Sunday school was let out, a little earlier than usual because a thunderstorm was coming up, she rushed home under the darkening sky. Supposing they had named the puppy while she was at Sunday school and she had been left out of the naming?

"What are we going to name him?" she asked, bursting into the house.

To her surprise Uncle Bennie was there. He had not been able to wait until next Saturday to see the puppy again, and Gramma had had to bring him over in his Sunday clothes. Mama hadn't got the dinner ready yet, she had been so interested in the puppy. Now she dropped the potato she was peeling and looked at the children in surprise. "Why," she said. "Mean to say you haven't named him yet?"

Jerry felt ashamed. He had been so happy just having this dog he hadn't even thought of naming him. Now he thought hard, however. He thought of all the names of dogs he knew. They were Duke, Major, Rex, Queenie, Lassie, Lad, and Tige. He liked the name of Duke best. But that was the name
of the big hound of his friend, Dick Badger, the hound that could scratch his stomach when you scratched his back. It was a very funny thing to watch. But this puppy of his was going to be funnier. This puppy of his. What would they name him? Naturally there could not be two Dukes in the same block.

"Aren't you thinking?" he asked Rachel.

"I am thinking. But I haven't thought of anything good enough yet."

"Well, think harder," said Jerry, while their puppy came racing through the house with a big fuzzy orange woolly duster he had found early and appropriated for himself. There he stood, in the doorway of the kitchen with his duster in his mouth, ready to tear off again. "Catch me if you can," he seemed to say, taunting them, daring them to come, exceedingly impudent.

"Woof!" he barked, dropping the duster.

Jerry grabbed the handle end of the duster and the puppy buried his nose in the wool end and worried it and shook it and growled and snorted. He was having a wonderful time and so were all of them. Jerry held the duster high in the air and the puppy hung on to it with his strong little teeth and swung. Uncle Bennie kept leaping up and down and

yelling, "Hey! Hey!" Thunder began to rumble, adding to the general confusion. The kitchen grew dark and Mama had to light the gas mantle.

"At this rate, when will I ever get dinner ready?" Mama wondered.

But the children hadn't even thought yet how hungry they were. They were too busy chasing the puppy and thinking of names.

"How about calling him 'Frisco' because he is so frisky?" asked Jerry doubtfully, not at all sure this was a good name.

"Um-m-m," they all said hesitantly.

"What about 'Boombernickles'?" asked Rachel.

"Oh, Rachel," said Jerry in disgust. He was not always as careful about not hurting her feelings as she was his.