In the Face of Danger Read online

  This book made available by the Internet Archive.

  A Note FYom the Author

  During the years from 1854 to 1929, the Children's Aid Society, founded by Charles Loring Brace, sent more than 100,000 children on orphan trains from the slums of New York City to new homes in the West. This placing-out program was so successful that other groups, such as the New York Foundling Hospital, followed the example.

  The Orphan Train Quartet was inspired by the true stories of these children; but tne characters in the series, their adventures, and the dates of their arrival are entirely fictional. We chose St. Joseph, Missouri, between the years 1860 and 1880 as our setting in order to place our characters in one of the most exciting periods of American history. As for the historical figures who enter these stories— they very well could have been at the places described at the proper times to touch the lives of the children who came west on the orphan trains.

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  5 A uuxobcr cf the CHILDREN brought from [ KTTW YORK are still without homes.

  i JAXiJV: AND SEB THEM.

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  MERCHANTS, FARMERS

  AND FRIENDS GENERALLY A T« reqvvdcted to give publicity to the above

  A^n Mrcii.oauoE

  OEN Agent

  Jennifer watched Grandma ladle hot cucumber pickles into a row of scalded glass jars. The recipe had been handed down in the family, Grandma had said. Jennifer wondered if her great-great-great-grandmother, Frances Mary Kelly, had made pickles like these.

  She thought about the six Kelly children, Frances and her brothers and sisters, who had been sent west in 1860 to St. Joseph, Missouri, on a train with twenty-two orphans from New York City to find new families to care for them when their own mothers couldn't How frightening it must have been to be placed with strangers, wondering when you'd ever see your brothers and sisters again! Jennifer shivered at the thought.

  Frances had been able to keep little Petey with her, and Peg and Danny had remained together. Mike, who had been arrested for being a pickpocket and had been allowed to go west for a second chance instead of being sent to Tombs Prison, seemed to have had the spirit and gumption to take care of any situation.

  But what about Megan, the gentle, shy, twelve-year-old

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  sister who had been taken far from the others to live on the Kansas prairie?

  Jennifer's younger brother, Jeff, elbowed his way between Jennifer and Grandma, interrupting her thoughts. "Remember, Grandma," he said, "you promised to tell us Megan's story today."

  With a quick twist of the wrist. Grandma fastened the last jar top tightly. "I was just thinking of that," she said. "This very recipe came to Frances Mary fit)m Megan." Jennifer smiled at that as Grandma went on. "Let's leave the dishes until lunchtime and go out to the screened porch. There's no better time to tell you Megan's story than right now."

  Jeff arrived at the porch first and sprawled in one of the big chairs, the breeze from the large floor fan ruffling the hair on top of his head.

  Jennifer inunediately dropped into the nearest chair, eager for Grandma to begin.

  Grandma sat in the rocker and opened the journal in which Frances Mary had written about her brothers and sisters. "I'll read a little of what Frances wrote about Megan before I tell you the rest of the story," Grandma said. She cleared her throat and began.

  Maybe I worried more about Megan than any of the rest I watched her chin tremble before she walked away, bax:k straight and proud, hand in hand with Ben and Emma Browder, ready to face her new life without a complaint I was heartbroken, not only because I was leaving this sister I loved so much, but because I knew that Megan unfairly blamed herself for what had happened to our family.

  For as long as I live, FU never forget that day in

  New York City, more than tuoo years before, when a horrible old woman made Megan think of herself as a bad luck penny.

  There had been a loud, insistent knock at our door, and Megan ran to answer it Ma and I u)ere right behind her as she opened the door to a woman who was as dark and wrinkled as a walnut shell Greasy strands of hair hung over her eyes.

  "A gypsy, " / heard Ma mutter under her breadth

  Prom under her shawl the woman stretched out a clawlike hand, palm up. "Some coins for a poor old lady?'' she whined

  Ma said firmly, 'Tm sorry, but we have nothing for you. "

  She had started to close the door, but the woman snatched Megan's urrisL She poked a long and dirty finger into Megan's palm. "Ohhh," she sighed 'What have we here? Could it be that this child is a bad-luck penny?"

  '"None of that now!" Ma snapped. "Be on your way with that foolishness!"

  Megan, whimpering with fear, tried to puM her hand away, but the gypsy's fingers dug into her wrist. The old woman thrust her face close to Megan's and muttered, "Bad luck will be with you and yours all the days of your life."

  Megan screamed, and I let out a yelp and tried to pull her away from the gypsy. Ma picked up a broom and brandished it at the woman. "I said, be gone with you!" Ma shouted.

  As she firmly shut the door, Ma gave Megan a hug and said, "Don't mind what that evil woman told you, love. It's all foolishness. She was just

  trying to get hack at me because I wouldn't give her money. "

  Ma went back to her sewing, but the fear remained in Megan's eyes.

  Later I found Megan talking to Old Lorenzo with the twisted legs, who sat on street comers to beg. I knew she had been asking him about gypsies, because he whispered, **0f course gypsies can see things others can't see. Gypsies have the special

  gift''

  And everyone in the Russian family down the haU became upset when Megan told them about the gypsy's visit The grandmother crossed herself and babbled something in Russian, and Marfa, who was close to Megan's age, quickly murmured, "Grandma says be very careful Who can tell the effect of a gypsy's curse?"

  I pulled Megan into the hallway, urging, *Von't listen to the others. Listen to Ma. And to me. What the gypsy told you doesn't mean a thing. It's all ju^t superstition."

  But Megan held out her palm, as though trying to peer into it, and shuddered. "All the days of my life," she whispered.

  When Da died, Megan blamed the gypsy's curse for bringing bad luck to the family. She had blamed it for Mike's arrest. Now she blamed it for Ma sending all of us to new homes in the West As we were tearfully saying good-bye to one another in St Joseph, Megan clung to my arm. "Oh, Frances, don't you see?" she said. *All the terrible things that have happened to our family are my fault — since the gypsy made me the bad-luck penny." She

  hugged me tightly. "Maybe you'll all be mux:h better off without me. "

  *Vh, no, Megan!'' I cried But aU I could do was watch her go with the Browders and send a prayer after her. I had no way of knowing what spells of evil — or good — might be waiting for Megan.

  Megan Eileen Kelly sat on the high wagon seat, wedged between Enima and Beryanun Browder, and tried to keep her mind on the many things Emma was telling her. The past few hours in St. Joseph were like a nightmare that wouldn't go away. She had been chosen by the Browders from among all the others who had come west on the orphan train, but the memory of facing all those strangers—wondering if any of them would want her— and of being parted from her brothers and sisters kept surging into her thoughts, making her want to cry out in agony. Her spine as stiff as a broom handle, Megan clenched her fingers together tightly and forced herself to listen.

  'Tou*ll like your new home," Emma told her. She turned to Megan and smiled, her brown eyes sparkling under the deep curve of her sunbonnet. "It's prairie country. There's high grass as far as you can see, and the wind whispers through the grass like soft music
."

  Megan gave a little nod that was supposed to show polite interest and tried unsuccessfully to snule. Oh,

  FYanceSy she thought, you have Petey with you, and Danny and Peg are together. Mike can make his way anywhere. But Pm alone, without a brother or sister nearby to comfort or ding to, and /Vn so terribly afraid.

  Ben, who was stocky and broad-shouldered, lightly held the horses' reins with hands that were brown and callused. "Someday you'll see miles of wheat and com on the land instead of grass," he said. "We're helping the country grow."

  There was a pause. Megan knew she was supposed to answer, but her throat was tight with the tears she was holding back, and words wouldn't come.

  Emma chattered on. "In spite of the dry years, we've kept up a good-size vegetable garden in back of the house. Have you ever seen vegetables growing?"

  Mutely Megan shook her head.

  "It's a wonderfiil feeling to make something good grow from seed. In the early spring you can help plant What vegetables do you like? Peas? Lettuce? Cabbage?"

  Cabbojge — boiling in the pot with potatoes. How often have I cooked cabbage and potatoes for the family? Megan wondered. They'd gathered around the table in the one room that had been home for as long as she could remember. Ma would dish the food onto their plates and bend her head as she said the blessing, her hair shining red-gold in the lamplight. Oh, Ma! Megan struggled to keep from crying out. / miss you so mu^h I can't bear it!

  Emma was waiting for her to speak. Megan took a deep breath, concentrated on watching the wide, dark brown rumps of Jimbo and Jay, the horses pulling the wagon, and managed to murmur, "I know how to cook cabbages."

  She caught the pleased glance Emma and Ben ex-

  changed. Ben wss like a solid block of wood, Emma rounded like a soft pillow. To Megan they seemed so healthy, so vibrant with energy. / wonder if Ma and Da toere like that when they left Ireland and planned their new life in the United States^ Megan thought Could Da have been just as strong and tanned 03 Ben? Could our family have stayed together? She shuddered as she remembered the gypsy's words. "Bad luck to you and yours all the days of your life, " What chance had any of them with a bad penny in the family?

  Emma was q)eaking again, her voice bubbling with delight "Our dog, Lad^, is going to have puppies soon. Well find homes for all the puppies except one. One of them will be yours. And you can choose.''

  Megan blinked and looked up, astonished. "A puppy?" she bhirted. "For me?"

  "Only for you. Have you ever had a dog?"

  Megan shook her head.

  *Then you have a treat in store for you. A dog can be your best fiiend."

  Best friend? Megan sighed. Prances has always been my best friend^ and she always will be, even thxmgh I may never see her again

  As the wagon rolled steadily on, the road began to rise through low, rolling hills covered with golden grasses rippling and shivering in the afternoon breeze. Megan became aware that Emma had stopped chattering about Lady and the puppies she*d have. To fill the silence, Megan said the first thing that came into her mind. "I can share the puppy with your baby."

  Ben's eyebrows rose, and Emma's hands went to her rounded stomach. She blushed and murmured, "Why, thank you, Megan."

  Hadn't they realized she'd know what Emma's roundness

  meant? She was twelve years old, no longer a child. A bird skittered up from the grasses and sailed out of sight, its cry like the wail in Megan's heart. "Fm very good at helping with babies," she said. "I have two younger—had two—" Her voice trailed off, sucked down into the hard lump that nearly closed her throat. Why^ oh why, had Ma given all her children away?

  "You'll have a better life than I can give you," Ma had told them. Megan hadn't really understood. How could life be better without Ma there to comfort and hug and laugh with them? All of them had begged to stay with her, but she had given them no choice.

  Enuna's left arm, warm shawl and all, enfolded Megan's shoulders. "We'll stop with friends for the night," she said, "but their house is still a long drive away. Why don't you just snuggle against me and take a little nap? You've been through a great deal today. I know you must be very tired."

  Shyly Megan rested her head against Enuna's shoulder. Enmia tenderly smoothed back her hair, but Megan's spine and shoulders refused to relax. If she let go even for a nunute, she would drown in the misery the gypsy had brought upon her and everyone she loved. It isn't fair to the Browders, Megan thought drowsily. Should I warn them ahout the bad luck I carry with me? Should I teU them to send me bax^k? But if they did, where would I go? What would happen to me?

  Hands gripped together tightly in her lap, Megan fell into the blurry world of half-sleep. Ben's and Enuna's voices murmured over her like a blanket, and the wagon swayed and jounced with a contorting rhythm that shook away any dreams that might have come to taunt her.

  Megan opened her eyes, shifting and stretching, to

  discover that the sun was low in the orange-streaked sky, and the wagon was bumping along a deeply rutted lane that wound upward. At the top of the low hill, drenched in the golden light, was a small cabin. Megan rubbed her eyes and stared. There was grass growing on the roof and a small goat nibbling at the grass!

  A slender woman burst from the cabin and ran toward them. Two young towheaded children streaked after her, shouting and laughing. A man strode quickly from a bam beyond the cabin to join the others.

  "Nelda!" Elmma Browder cried. As soon as Ben reined Jimbo and Jay to a stop, Emma leapt down from the wagon and hugged her friend. "And this is Megan, who has come to be a part of our family!" Emma said-Megan took Enmia's hand and carefully climbed over the wagon wheel to jump to the ground. The woman, who was dressed in faded brown cotton, her pale hair twisted into a knot on top of her head, was studying Megan, and the two children were openly staring. Megan could feel herself blushing, but Emma gave her a reassuring hug and said, "Megan, this is my good friend, Mrs. Parson, and the children are Teddie and Dorothea Parson.*' The bttle girl took her thumb from her mouth and announced, "Papa and Mama call me Thea." Megan's heart gave a lurch as she remembered Peg at that age.

  Will Parson and Ben, deep in conversation, led the team to the bam. Megan could hear snatches of conversation: "The election—it's all anyone talks about River trafiBc? You heard about the explosion on the side-wheeler LiUyanne. Lost all cargo and—"

  Mrs. Parson smiled broadly and reached for Megan's hand. "Come into the house," she said. *The men will bring your things from the wagon." Over her shoulder

  she said to Emma, *The meal will be a simple one, but filling. 1 know you're hungry."

  As soon as the door had closed behind them, Enmia helped Megan off with her coat. "I brought you a length of cloth—turkey red, as you wanted," she said to her friend, and Mrs. Parson clapped her hands in delight

  The children continued to stare at Megan as she looked around the cabin. It was only one room, and in a way that was contorting, because it was like their home with Ma in New York City. This room was much larger than her fanuly's room in New York City and the walls were of logs with clay stuffed in all the chinks and hollows. There were two windows, one facing the front and one the back. A huge iron stove stood next to a large open fireplace at the center of the front wall. Cooking tools hung on hooks near the stove, and a large wooden cupboard, a table, and a number of wooden chairs were placed nearby. At the opposite end of the room, there were two wide beds, bright with multicolored quilts and something intricate in a frame hung on the wall. Megan walked over to see what it was. She recognized the alphabet and numbers embroidered in cross-stitch. There were words, too, but Megan couldn't read them.

  She heard Mrs. Parson's voice from behind her. "Our daughter, Alice, made that sampler when she was ten. She was always so careful with her work. I've never seen cross-stitch done any better."

  Megan glanced around. "Where is Alice?"

  For just an instant shadows darkened Mrs. Parson's eyes as she answered, "It was a bad winter
last year, and many of the children nearabouts were ill. We lost Alice."

  "I—I'm sorry," Megan stammered. She hadn't meant to hurt Mrs. Parson. Too embarrassed to know what to say

  u

  or do, Megan blindly, frantically bolted out the door and around to the back of the house, taking refuge in the privy, where she leaned her head against the rough plank wall. She couldn't cry. She mustn't cry. All the sorrow had to be locked away, where it couldn't hurt.

  As soon as she had composed herself, she came out of the privy. At the side of the house was a bench with a basin of cold water. Megan splashed water onto her face and dried it with the coarse towel made from rough cotton sacking that hung on the nail over the bench.

  Ben, coming from the bam with Will Parson, gave her a friendly wave. Megan waved back and hurried toward the door to the house, leaving the men to splash and sputter noisily as they washed with the chilled water.

  Neither Emma nor Mrs. Parson remarked on Megan's absence, but Megan could tell they'd been talking about her. Of course Mrs. Parson would be curious.

  The table was already set. After everyone had gathered and a blessing had been said, the two women carried heaping plates to the table. Megan recognized the sausages, but there was an unfamiliar dark green, soft, leafy vegetable and a platter of something that Emma told her was fried patties made from commeal mush, served with cane syrup to pour over them. Each of the children was given a tin cup filled with milk. Megan gulped hers down greedily, and the cup was immediately refilled.

  After supper, a full stomach, the fire crackling in the fireplace, and the easy chatter of both families comforted Megan. In spite of the n^ she'd had in the wagon and the strange surroundings, Megan found it difficult to keep her eyes open.

  Teddie yawned widely and noisily. Megan was grateful

  when his mother said, "My goodness* sakes! It*s time to tuck these children into bed."