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Yes, sir, said his grandchild, bobbing her head on which the tightly braided pigtails stood out like the rays of a very black sun. Mammys all right.
But whos been trackin up all dese stairs, if twasnt yo chillen? demanded the negro, returning to the source of his complaint. Snow jes eberywhere! Whas dat Sam Pinkney? he added suddenly.
We dont know, Uncle Rufus, said Tess slowly.
Sammy went and hid from us, and we cant find him, explained Dot.
Uncle Rufus pointed a gnarled finger dramatically at a blob of snow on the carpet at the foot of the garret stairs.
Dah he is! he exclaimed.
Oh! gasped Tess.
Where, Uncle Rufus? begged Dorothy, somewhat startled.
Fo de lans sake! murmured Alfredia, her eyes shining. He mus a done melted most away.
Dahs his feetsteps, chillen, declared the old man. An dey come all de way up de two flights from de back do. I been gadderin up lumps o snow in dis here shovel
He halted with a sharp intake of breath, and raised his head to look up the garret stairs. It was very dark up there, for the door that opened into the great, open room extending the full width of the main part of the old Corner House was closed. In winter the children seldom went up there to play; and Uncle Rufus never mounted to the garret at all if he could help it.
Whats dat? he suddenly whispered.
Tap, tap, tap; tap, tap, tap! went the sound that had caught the old mans attention. It receded, then drew nearer, then receded. Uncle Rufus turned a face that had suddenly become gray toward the three little girls.
Dats dats de same noise used to be up in dat garret befo your Unc Stower die, chillen. Ma mercy me!
Oh! squealed Alfredia, turning to run. Dats de garret ghos! Is heard ma mammy tell bout dat ol hant.
But Tess seized her and would not let her go.
That is perfect nonsense, Alfredia! she said very sternly. There is no such thing as a ghost.
Don you be too uppity, chile! murmured Uncle Rufus.
A ghost! cried Dot, coming nearer to the attic stairs. Oh, my! What I thought was a goat when I was a very little girl? I remember!
Dats jest de same noise, murmured Uncle Rufus, as the tapping sound was repeated.
But Ruthie laid that old ghost, said Tess with scorn. And it wasnt anything much. But this
Dot, who had examined the wet marks and lumps of snow on the lower treads of the garret stairs, suddenly squealed:
Oh, looky here! Tisnt a ghost, but tis a goat! Those are Billy Bumps footsteps! Of course they are!
Sammy Pinkney! was the chorus of voices, even Uncle Rufus joining in. Then he added:
Dat boy is de beatenes! How come he make dat goat climb all dese stairs?
Why, said Dot, Billy Bumps can climb right up on the roof of the hen houses. He can climb just like a a well, just like a goat! Coming upstairs isnt anything hard for Billy Bumps.
Sammy Pinkney, you come down from there with that goat! commanded Tess sternly.
What do you suppose Ruthie or Mrs. MacCall will say?
The door swung open above, and the wan daylight which entered by the small garret windows revealed Sammy Pinkney, plump, sturdy and freckled, stooping to look down at the startled group at the top of the stairs.
I spy Sammy! cried Dot shrilly, just remembering that they were playing hide and seek or had been.
But somebody else spied Sammy at that moment, too. The mischievous boy had led Billy Bumps, the goat, up three long flights of stairs and turned him loose to go tap, tap, tapping about the bare attic floor on his hard little hoofs.
Billy spied Sammy as the youth stooped to grin down the stairs at Uncle Rufus and the little girls. Billy had a hair-trigger temper. He did not recognize Sammy from the rear, and he instantly charged.
Just as Sammy was going to tell those below how happy he was because he had startled them, Billy Bumps dashed out of the garret and butted the unsuspicious boy. Sammy sailed right into the air, arms and legs spread like a jumping frog, and dived down the stairway, while Billy stood blatting and shaking his horns at the head of the flight.
CHAPTER II THE STRAW RIDE
So it certainly would have gone hard with that youngster had not other and more able hands intervened. There was a shout from behind Uncle Rufus, an echoing bark, and a lean boy with a big dog dashed into the forefront of this exciting adventure.
The boy, if tall and slender, was muscular enough. Indeed, Neale ONeil was a trained athlete, having begun his training very young indeed with his uncle, Mr. William Sorber, of Twomley and Sorbers Herculean Circus and Menagerie. As the big Newfoundland dog charged upstairs to hold back the goat, Neale, with outspread arms, met Sammy in mid-air.
Neale staggered back, clutching the small boy, and finally tripped and fell on the carpet of the hall. But he was not hurt, nor was Sammy.
Fo de good lan sake! gasped Uncle Rufus, what is we a-comin to? A goat in de attic, an Tessie! yo call off dat dog or hell eat Billy Bumps, complete an a-plenty!
The big dog was barking vociferously, while the goat stamped his hoofs and shook his horns threateningly at the head of the flight of stairs. Tom Jonah and Billy Bumps never had been friends.