“Yes, ma’am,” said the young man, with a noticeable lack of interest in how Betsy and Molly got home.
“Now, Betsy,” said Mrs. Wendell, “you go round to that booth at two and ask Will Vaughan what time they’re going to start and where their wagon is, and then you be sure not to keep them waiting a minute.”
“No, I won’t,” said Betsy. “I’ll be sure to be there on time.”
She and Molly still had twenty cents to spend out of the forty they had brought with them, twenty-five earned by berry-picking and fifteen a present from Uncle Henry. They now put their heads together to see how they could make the best possible use of their four nickels. Cousin Ann had put no restrictions whatever on them, saying they could buy any sort of truck or rubbish they could find, except the pink lemonade. She said she had been told the venders washed their glasses in that, and their hands, and for all she knew their faces. Betsy was for merry-go-rounds, but Molly yearned for a big red balloon; and while they were buying that a man came by with toy dogs, little brown dogs with curled-wire tails. He called out that they would bark when you pulled their tails, and seeing the little girls looking at him he pulled the tail of the one he held. It gave forth a fine loud yelp, just like Shep when his tail got stepped on. Betsy bought one, all done up neatly in a box tied with blue string. She thought it a great bargain to get a dog who would bark for five cents. (Later on, when they undid the string and opened the box, they found the dog had one leg broken off and wouldn’t make the faintest squeak when his tail was pulled; but that is the sort of thing you must expect to have happen to you at a county fair.)
Now they had ten cents left and they decided to have a ride apiece on the merry-go-round. But, glancing up at the clock-face in the tower over Agricultural Hall, Betsy noticed it was half-past two and she decided to go first to the booth where Will Vaughan was to be and find out what time they would start for home. She found the booth with no difficulty, but William Vaughan was not in it. Nor was the young man she had seen before. There was a new one, a strange one, a careless, whistling young man, with very bright socks, very yellow shoes, and very striped cuffs. He said, in answer to Betsy’s inquiry: “Vaughan? Will Vaughan? Never heard the name,” and immediately went on whistling and looking up and down the aisle over the heads of the little girls, who stood gazing up at him with very wide, startled eyes. An older man leaned over from the next booth and said: “Will Vaughan? He from Hillsboro? Well, I heard somebody say those Hillsboro Vaughans had word one of their cows was awful sick, and they had to start right home that minute.”
Betsy came to herself out of her momentary daze and snatched Molly’s hand. “Hurry! quick! We must find the Wendells before they get away!” In her agitation (for she was really very much frightened) she forgot how easily terrified little Molly was. Her alarm instantly sent the child into a panic. “Oh, Betsy! Betsy! What will we do!” she gasped, as Betsy pulled her along the aisle and out of the door.
“Oh, the Wendells can’t be gone yet,” said Betsy reassuringly, though she was not at all sure she was telling the truth. She ran as fast as she could drag Molly’s fat legs, to the horse-shed where Mr. Wendell had tied his horses and left the surrey. The horse-shed was empty, quite empty.
Betsy stopped short and stood still, her heart seeming to be up in her throat so that she could hardly breathe. After all, she was only ten that day, you must remember. Molly began to cry loudly, hiding her weeping face in Betsy’s dress. “What will we do, Betsy! What can we do!” she wailed.
Betsy did not answer. She did not know what they would do! They were eight miles from Putney Farm, far too much for Molly to walk, and anyhow neither of them knew the way. They had only ten cents left, and nothing to eat. And the only people they knew in all that throng of strangers had gone back to Hillsboro.
“What will we do, Betsy?” Molly kept on crying out, horrified by Betsy’s silence and evident consternation.