Ralestone Luck | Page 6

sniff she looked about her. "It took two of you to do that. But it only
required one of me to make three beds. Well, this is a warning to me. Next time--" she
did not finish her threat. "I suppose you want some supper?"
Rupert was already at the cupboards. "That," he agreed, "is the general idea."
"Beans or--" Ricky's hand closed upon Val's arm with a nipper-like grip. "What," her
voice was a thin thread of sound, "was that?"
Above the steady beat of the rain they heard a noise which was half scratch, half thud.
Under Rupert's hand the latch of the cupboard clicked.
"Back door," he said laconically.
"Well, why don't you open it?" Ricky's fingers bit tighter so that Val longed to twist out
of her grip.
The key grated in the lock and then Rupert shot back the accompanying bolt.
"Something's there," breathed Ricky.
"Probably nothing but a branch blown against the door by the wind," Val assured her,
remembering the tangled state of the garden.
The door came back, letting in a douche of cold rain and a black shadow which leaped for
the security of the center of the room.
"Look!" Ricky laughed unsteadily and released Val's arm.
In the center of the neat kitchen, spitting angrily at the wet, stood a ruffled and oversized
black tom-cat.

CHAPTER II
THE LUCK OF THE LORDS OF LORNE
"Nice of you to drop in, old man," commented Rupert dryly as he shut the door. "But

didn't anyone ever mention to you that gentlemen wipe their feet before entering strange
houses?" He surveyed a line of wet paw prints across the brick floor.
"Did he get all wet, the poor little--" Ricky was on her knees, stretching out her hand and
positively cooing. The cat put down the paw he had been licking and regarded her calmly
out of round, yellow eyes. Then he returned to his washing. Val laughed.
"Evidently he is used to the strong, silent type of human, Ricky. I wonder where he
belongs."
"He belongs to us now. Yes him does, doesn't him?" She attempted to touch the visitor's
head. His ears went back and he showed sharp teeth in no uncertain manner.
"Better let him alone," advised Rupert. "He doesn't seem to be the kind you can cuddle."
"So I see." Ricky arose to her feet with an offended air. "One would think that I
resembled the more repulsive members of my race."
"In the meantime," Rupert again sought the cupboard, "let's eat."
Half an hour later, fed and well content (even Satan, as the Ralestones had named their
visitor because of his temperament, having condescended to accept some of the
better-done bits of bacon), they sat about the table staring at the dishes. Now it is a very
well-known fact that dishes do not obligingly leap from a table into a pan of well-soaped
water, slosh themselves around a few times, and jump out to do a spot of brisk rubbing
down. But how nice it would be if they did, thought Val.
"The dishes--" began Ricky in a faint sort of way.
"Must be done. We gather that. How utterly nasty bacon grease looks when it's
congealed." Her younger brother surveyed the platter before him with mournful interest.
"And the question before the house is, I presume, who's going to wash them?" Rupert
grinned. "This seems to be as good a time as any to put some sort of a working plan in
force. There is a certain amount of so-called housework which has to be done. And there
are three of us to do it. It's up to us to apportion it fairly. Shall we say, let everyone care
for his or her own room--"
"There are also the little matters of washing, and ironing, and cleaning," Ricky broke in
to remind him.
"And we're down to fifty a month in hard cash. But the tenant farmer on the other side of
the bayou is to supply us with fresh fruit and vegetables. And our wardrobes are fairly
intact. So I think that we can afford to hire the washing done. We'll take turns cooking--"
"Who's elected to do the poisoning first?" Val inquired with interest. "I trust we possess a
good cook-book?"

"Well, I'll take breakfast tomorrow morning," Rupert volunteered. "Anyone can boil
coffee and toast bread. As for dishes, we'll all pitch in together. And suppose we start
right now."
When the dishes were back again in their neat piles on the cupboard shelves, Ricky
vanished upstairs, to come trailing down again in a house-coat which she fondly
imagined made her look like one of the better-known screen sirens. The family gathered
in an aimless way before the empty fireplace of the Long Hall. Rupert was