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diff --git a/32401-h/32401-h.htm b/32401-h/32401-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9689482 --- /dev/null +++ b/32401-h/32401-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10981 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" > +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Girls of Hillcrest Farm, by Amy Bell Marlowe</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1,h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h1 {font-size:1.6em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + h1.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size: 190%; margin-top:0ex; margin-bottom:0ex;} + h2 {font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + a {text-decoration:none;} + div.toc a {text-decoration:underline;} + div.loi a {text-decoration:underline;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + div.figcenter {text-align:center; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;} + div.figcenter p {text-align:center;} + p.center {text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + p.caption {font-size:smaller;} + div.titlepage {} + div.titlepage p {text-align:center;} + .fs22 {font-size:2.2em;} + .mb10 {margin-bottom:10px;} + .fs14 {font-size:1.4em;} + .mb30 {margin-bottom:30px;} + .fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + .mb90 {margin-bottom:90px;} + .fs08 {font-size:0.8em;} + .c {text-align:center;} + hr.hr10 {border:none;border-bottom:1px solid black; width:10%; text-align:center;} + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; clear:both;} + td.tcol1 {text-align:right; padding-right:1ex; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol2 {text-align:left; padding-right:2ex; font-variant:small-caps; vertical-align:top;} + td.tcol3 {text-align:right; vertical-align:bottom;} + td.center {text-align:center;} + td.fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + td.fs08 {font-size:0.8em;} + td.tar {text-align:right;} + span.h2fs {font-size:smaller;} + hr.tb {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; margin-top:10px; margin-bottom:10px; text-align:center; width:40%;} + div.center {text-indent:0em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom:.7em; margin-top:.7em; text-align: center;} + div.center p {text-align: center; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;} + .tar {text-align:right;} + .mb00 {margin-bottom:00px;} + .mt15 {margin-top:15px;} + .mt00 {margin-top:00px;} + .ml20 {margin-left:20px;} + .mr80 {margin-right:80px;} + .mr20 {margin-right:20px;} + .mb15 {margin-bottom:15px;} + + .center { text-align: center; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Girls of Hillcrest Farm, by Amy Bell +Marlowe</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Girls of Hillcrest Farm</p> +<p> The Secret of the Rocks</p> +<p>Author: Amy Bell Marlowe</p> +<p>Release Date: May 16, 2010 [eBook #32401]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="center">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.fadedpage.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i1'></a><img src='images/ifpc.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +LUCAS TORE DOWN THE BANK AND WADED<br />RIGHT INTO THE STREAM. Frontispiece (Page 61.) +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='titlepage'> +<p class='fs22 mb10'>THE GIRLS OF<br />HILLCREST FARM</p> +<p class='mb10'>OR</p> +<p class='fs14 mb30'>THE SECRET OF THE ROCKS</p> +<p class='mb10'>BY</p> +<p class='fs12 mb10'>AMY BELL MARLOWE</p> +<p class='mb90'>AUTHOR OF<br />THE OLDEST OF FOUR, A LITTLE MISS NOBODY,<br />THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH, ETC.</p> +<p class='fs12'>NEW YORK</p> +<p class='fs14'>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p class='fs12 mb10'>PUBLISHERS</p> +<p class='fs08'>Made in the United States of America</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c sc fs08'><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1914, by</span></p> +<p class='c'>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<hr class='hr10' /> +<p class='c fs08'><i>The Girls of Hillcrest Farm</i></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<table summary='TOC'> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'>CONTENTS</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'></td></tr> +<tr><td class='fs08'>CHAPTER</td><td colspan='2' class='tar fs08'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>I.</td><td class='tcol2'>Everything at Once!</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_1'>1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>II.</td><td class='tcol2'>Aunt Jane Proposes</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_2'>10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>III.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Doctor Disposes</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_3'>24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IV.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Pilgrimage</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_4'>37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>V.</td><td class='tcol2'>Lucas Pritchett</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_5'>51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VI.</td><td class='tcol2'>Neighbors</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_6'>61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VII.</td><td class='tcol2'>Hillcrest</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_7'>73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VIII.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Whisper in the Dark</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_8'>85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IX.</td><td class='tcol2'>Morning at Hillcrest</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_9'>96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>X.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Venture</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_10'>109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XI.</td><td class='tcol2'>At the Schoolhouse</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_11'>126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XII.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Green-Eyed Monster</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_12'>134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIII.</td><td class='tcol2'>Lyddy Doesn’t Want It</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_13'>144</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIV.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Colesworths</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_14'>161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XV.</td><td class='tcol2'>Another Boarder</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_15'>171</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVI.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Ball Keeps Rolling</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_16'>184</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVII.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Runaway Grandmother</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_17'>192</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVIII.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Queer Boarder</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_18'>199</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIX.</td><td class='tcol2'>Widow Harrison’s Troubles</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_19'>208</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XX.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Temperance Club Again</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_20'>216</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXI.</td><td class='tcol2'>Caught</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_21'>224</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXII.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Hidden Treasure</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_22'>236</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXIII.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Vendue</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_23'>248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXIV.</td><td class='tcol2'>Professor Spink’s Bottles</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_24'>258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXV.</td><td class='tcol2'>In the Old Doctor’s Office</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_25'>269</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXVI.</td><td class='tcol2'>A Blow-up</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_26'>276</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXVII.</td><td class='tcol2'>They Lose a Boarder</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_27'>283</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXVIII.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Secret Revealed</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_28'>289</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXIX.</td><td class='tcol2'>An Automobile Race</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_29'>298</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXX.</td><td class='tcol2'>The Hillcrest Company, Limited</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_30'>303</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<h1>THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM</h1> + +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1'></a>1</span><a id='link_1'></a>CHAPTER I<br /><span class='h2fs'>EVERYTHING AT ONCE!</span></h2> + +<p>Whenever she heard the siren of the ladder-truck, +as it swung out of its station on the neighboring +street, Lydia Bray ran to the single window +of the flat that looked out on Trimble +Avenue.</p> + +<p>They were four flights up. There were +twenty-three other families in this “double-decker.” +A fire in the house was the oldest Bray +girl’s nightmare by night and haunting spectre +by day.</p> + +<p>Lydia just couldn’t get used to these quarters, +and they had been here now three months. The +old, quiet home on the edge of town had been +so different. To it she had returned from college +so short a time ago to see her mother die and +find their affairs in a state of chaos.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2'></a>2</span>For her father was one of those men who +leave everything to the capable management of +their wives. Euphemia, or “’Phemie,” was only +a schoolgirl, then, in her junior year at high +school; “Lyddy” was a sophomore at Littleburg +when her mother died, and she had never +gone back.</p> + +<p>She couldn’t. There were two very good +reasons why her own and even ’Phemie’s education +had to cease abruptly. Their mother’s income, +derived from their grandmother’s estate, +ceased with her death. They could not live, let +alone pursue education “on the heights,” upon +Mr. Bray’s wages as overseer in one of the rooms +of the hat factory.</p> + +<p>“Mother’s hundred dollars a month was just +the difference between poverty and comfort,” +Lyddy had decided, when she took the strings of +the household into her own hands.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t that hundred dollars a month; +father makes but fifteen dollars weekly; <i>you</i> will +have to go to work at something, ’Phemie, and +so will I.”</p> + +<p>And no longer could they pay twenty-five dollars +a month house rent. Lyddy had first placed +her sister with a millinery firm at six dollars +weekly, and had then found this modest tenement +about half-way between her father’s factory and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span> +’Phemie’s millinery shop, so that it would be +equally handy for both workers.</p> + +<p>As for herself, Lyddy wished to obtain some +employment that would occupy only a part of +her day, and in this she had been unsuccessful as +yet. She religiously bought a paper every morning, +and went through the “help wanted” columns, +answering every one that looked promising. +She had tried many kinds of “work at +home for ladies,” and canvassing, and the like. +The latter did not pay for shoe-leather, and the +“work at home” people were mostly swindlers. +Lyddy was no needle-woman, so she could not +make anything as a seamstress.</p> + +<p>She had promised her mother to keep the family +together and make a home for her father. +Mr. Bray was not well. For almost two years +now the doctor had been warning him to get out +of the factory and into some other business. The +felt-dust was hurting him.</p> + +<p>He had come in but the minute before and had +at once gone to lie down, exhausted by his climb +up the four flights of stairs. ’Phemie had not yet +returned from work, for it was nearing Easter, +despite the rawness of the days, and the millinery +shop was busy until late. They always +waited supper for ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>Now, when Lyddy ran to the window at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +raucous shriek of the ladder-truck siren, she hoped +she would see her sister turning the corner into +the avenue, where the electric arc-light threw a +great circle of radiance upon the wet walk.</p> + +<p>But although there was the usual crowd at the +corner, and all seemed to be in a hurry to-night, +Lyddy saw nothing of either her sister or the ladder-truck. +She went back to the kitchen, satisfied +that the fire apparatus had not swung into +their street, so the tenement must be safe for the +time being.</p> + +<p>She finished laying the table for supper. Once +she looked up. There was that man at the window +again!</p> + +<p>That is, he <i>would</i> be a man some day, Lyddy +told herself. But she believed, big as he was, he +was just a hobbledehoy-boy. He was a boy who, +if one looked at him, just <i>had</i> to smile. And he +was always working in a white apron and brown +straw cuff-shields at that window which was a +little above the level of Lyddy’s kitchen window.</p> + +<p>Lyddy Bray abominated flirting and such silly +practises. And although the boy at the window +was really good to look upon–cleanly shaven, +rosy-cheeked, with good eyes set wide apart, and +a firm, broad chin–Lyddy did not like to see him +every time she raised her eyes from her own +kitchen tasks.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span>Often, even on dark days, she drew the shade +down so that she should have more privacy. For +sometimes the young man looked idly out of the +window and Lyddy believed that, had she given +him any encouragement, he would have opened +his own window and spoken to her.</p> + +<p>The place in which he worked was a tall loft +building; she believed he was employed in some +sort of chemical laboratory. There were retorts, +and strange glass and copper instruments in partial +view upon his bench.</p> + +<p>Now, having lighted the gas, Lyddy stepped to +the window to pull down the shade closely and +shut the young man out. He was staring with +strange eagerness at her–or, at least, in her direction.</p> + +<p>“Master Impudence!” murmured Lyddy.</p> + +<p>He flung up his window just as she reached +for the shade. But she saw then that he was +looking above her story.</p> + +<p>“It’s those Smith girls, I declare,” thought +Lyddy. “Aren’t they bold creatures? And–really–I +thought he was too nice a boy―”</p> + +<p>That was the girl of it! She was shocked at +the thought of having any clandestine acquaintance +with the young man opposite; yet it cheapened +him dreadfully in Lyddy’s eyes to see him +fall prey to the designing girls in the flat above. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +The Smith girls had flaunted their cheap finery +in the faces of Lyddy and ’Phemie Bray ever +since the latter had come here to live.</p> + +<p>She did not pull the shade down for a moment. +That boy certainly was acting in a most outrageous +manner!</p> + +<p>His body was thrust half-way out of the window +as he knelt on his bench among the retorts. +She saw several of the delicate glass instruments +overturned by his vigorous motions. She saw +his lips open and he seemed to be shouting something +to those in the window above.</p> + +<p>“How rude of him,” thought the disappointed +Lyddy. He had looked to be <i>such</i> a nice young +man.</p> + +<p>Again she would have pulled down the shade, +but the boy’s actions stayed her hand.</p> + +<p>He leaped back from the window and disappeared–for +just a moment. Then he staggered +into view, thrust a long and wide plank through +his open window, and, bearing down upon it, +shoved hard and fast, thrusting the novel bridge +up to the sill of the window above Lyddy’s own.</p> + +<p>“What under the sun does that fellow mean +to do?” gasped the girl, half tempted to raise her +own window so as to look up the narrow shaft +between the two buildings.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span>“He never would attempt to cross over to +their flat,” thought Lyddy. “That would be +quite too–ri–dic–u–lous―”</p> + +<p>The youth was adjusting the plank. At first +he could not steady it upon the sill above Lyddy’s +kitchen window. And how dangerous it would +be if he attempted to “walk the plank.”</p> + +<p>And then there was a roaring sound above, +a glare of light, a crash of glass and a billow +of black smoke suddenly–but only for a +moment–filled the space between the two buildings!</p> + +<p>The girl almost fell to the floor. She had +always been afraid of fire, and it had been ever +in her mind since they moved into this big tenement +house. And now it had come without her +knowing it!</p> + +<p>While she thought the young man to be trying +to enter into a flirtation with the girls in the +flat above, the house was afire! No wonder so +many people had seemed running at the corner +when she looked out of the front window. The +ladder-truck had swung around into the avenue +without her seeing it. Doubtless the street in +front of the tenement was choked with fire-fighting +apparatus.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me!” gasped Lyddy, reeling for the +moment.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span>Then she dashed for the bedroom where her +father lay. Smoke was sifting in from the +hall through the cracks about the ill-hung +door.</p> + +<p>“Father! Father!” she gasped.</p> + +<p>He lay on the bed, as still as though sleeping. +But the noise above should have aroused him +by this time, had her own shrill cry not done so.</p> + +<p>Yet he did not move.</p> + +<p>Lyddy leaped to the bedside, seizing her +father’s shoulder with desperate clutch. She +shook his frail body, and the head wagged from +side to side on the pillow in so horrible a way–so +lifeless and helpless–that she was smitten +with terror.</p> + +<p>Was he dead? He had never been like this +before, she was positive.</p> + +<p>She tore open his waistcoat and shirt and placed +her hand upon his heart. It was beating–but, +oh, how feebly!</p> + +<p>And then she heard the flat door opened with +a key–’Phemie’s key. Her sister cried:</p> + +<p>“Dear me, Lyddy! the hall is full of smoke. +It isn’t your stove that’s smoking so, I hope? +And here’s Aunt Jane Hammond come to see us. +I met her on the street, and these four flights +of stairs have almost killed her―Why! what’s +happened, Lyddy?” the younger girl broke off +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span> +to ask, as her sister’s pale face appeared at the +bedroom door.</p> + +<p>“Everything–everything’s happened at once, +I guess,” replied Lyddy, faintly. “Father’s sick–we’ve +got company–and the house is afire!”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span><a id='link_2'></a>CHAPTER II<br /><span class='h2fs'>AUNT JANE PROPOSES</span></h2> + +<p>Aunt Jane Hammond stalked into the +meagerly furnished parlor, and looked around. +It was the first time she had been to see the +Bray girls since their “come down” in the world.</p> + +<p>She was a tall, gaunt woman–their mother’s +half-sister, and much older than Mrs. Bray would +have been had she lived. Aunt Jane, indeed, had +been married herself when her father, Dr. +“Polly” Phelps, had married his second wife.</p> + +<p>“I must–say I–expected to–see some–angels +sit–ting a–round–when I got up here,” +panted Aunt Jane, grimly, and dropping into the +most comfortable chair. “Couldn’t you have +got a mite nearer heaven, if you’d tried, Lyddy +Bray?”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es,” gasped Lyddy. “There’s another +story on top of this; but it’s afire just now.”</p> + +<p>“<i>What?</i>” shrieked Aunt Jane.</p> + +<p>“Do you really mean it, Lyddy?” cried her +sister. “And that’s what the smoke means?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” declared their aunt, “them firemen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +will have to carry me out, then. I couldn’t walk +downstairs again right now, for no money!”</p> + +<p>’Phemie ran to the hall door. But when +she opened it a great blast of choking smoke +drove in.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh!” she cried. “We can’t escape by +the stairway. What’ll we do? What <i>shall</i> we +do?”</p> + +<p>“There’s the fire-escape,” said Lyddy, trembling +so that she could scarcely stand.</p> + +<p>“What?” cried Aunt Jane again. “<i>Me</i> go +down one o’ them dinky little ladders–and me +with a hole as big as a half-dollar in the back +of my stockin’? I never knowed it till I got +started from home; the seam just gave.”</p> + +<p>“I’d look nice going down that ladder. I +guess not, says Con!” and she shook her head +so vigorously that all the little jet trimmings +upon her bonnet danced and sparkled in the gaslight +just as her beadlike, black eyes snapped and +danced.</p> + +<p>“We–we’re in danger, Lyddy!” cried ’Phemie, +tremulously.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the boy!” exclaimed Lyddy, and flew +to the kitchen, just in time to see the Smith +family sliding down the plank into the laboratory–the +two girls ahead, then Mother Smith, then +Johnny Smith, and then the father. And all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +while the boy next door held the plank firmly +in place against the window-sill of the burning +flat.</p> + +<p>Lyddy threw up the window and screamed +something to him as the last Smith passed him +and disappeared. She couldn’t have told what +she said, for the very life of her; but the young +man across the shaft knew what she meant.</p> + +<p>He drew back the plank a little way, swung +his weight upon the far end of it, and then let +it drop until it was just above the level of her sill.</p> + +<p>“Grab it and pull, Miss!” he called across +the intervening space.</p> + +<p>Lyddy obeyed. There was great confusion in +the hall now, and overhead the fire roared loudly. +The firemen were evidently pressing up the congested +stairway with a line or two of hose, and +driving the frightened people back into their tenements. +If the fire was confined to the upper +floor of the double-decker there would be really +little danger to those below.</p> + +<p>But Lyddy was too frightened to realize this +last fact. She planted the end of the plank upon +her own sill and saw that it was secure. But it +sloped upward more than a trifle. How would +they ever be able to creep up that inclined plane–and +four flights from the bottom of the shaft?</p> + +<p>But to her consternation, the young fellow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +across the way deliberately stepped out upon the +plank, sat down, and slid swiftly across to her. +Lyddy sprang back with a cry, and he came in +at the window and stood before her.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe you’re in any danger, Miss,” +he said. “The firemen are on the roof, and +probably up through the halls, too. The fire +has burned a vent through the roof and―Yes! +hear the water?”</p> + +<p>She could plainly hear the swish of the streams +from the hosepipes. Then the water thundered +on the floor above their heads. Almost at once +small streams began to pour through the ceiling.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh!” cried Lyddy. “Right on the supper +table!”</p> + +<p>A stream fell hissing on the stove. The big +boy drew her swiftly out of the room into her +father’s bedroom.</p> + +<p>“That ceiling will come down,” he said, +hastily. “I’m sorry–but if you’re insured you’ll +be all right.”</p> + +<p>Lyddy at that moment remembered that she had +never taken out insurance on the poor sticks of +furniture left from the wreck of their larger +home. Yet, if everything was spoiled―</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with him?” asked the +young fellow, looking at the bed where Mr. Bray +lay. He had wonderfully sharp eyes, it seemed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span>“I don’t know–I don’t know,” moaned +Lyddy. “Do you think it is the smoke? He +has been ill a long time–almost too sick to +work―”</p> + +<p>“Your father?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said the girl.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get an ambulance, if you say so–and a +doctor. Are you afraid to stay here now? Are +you all alone but for him?”</p> + +<p>“My sister–and my aunt,” gasped Lyddy. +“They’re in the front room.”</p> + +<p>“Keep ’em there,” said the young man. +“Maybe they won’t pour so much water into +those front rooms. Look out for the ceilings. +You might be hurt if they came down.”</p> + +<p>He found the key and unlocked and opened +the door from the bedroom to the hall. The +smoke cloud was much thinner. But a torrent +of water was pouring down the stairs, and the +shouting and stamping of the firemen above were +louder.</p> + +<p>Two black, serpent-like lines of hose encumbered +the stairs.</p> + +<p>“Take care of yourself,” called the young +man. “I’ll be back in a jiffy with the doctor,” +and, bareheaded, and in shirt-sleeves as he was, +he dashed down the dark and smoky stairway.</p> + +<p>Lyddy bent over her father again; he was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +breathing more peacefully, it seemed. But when +she spoke to him he did not answer.</p> + +<p>’Phemie ran in, crying. “What is the matter +with father?” she demanded, as she noted his +strange silence. Then, without waiting for an +answer, she snapped:</p> + +<p>“And Aunt Jane’s got her head out of the window +scolding at the firemen in the street because +they do not come up and carry her downstairs +again.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, the fire’s nearly out, I guess,” groaned +Lyddy.</p> + +<p>Then the girls clutched each other and were +stricken speechless as a great crash sounded from +the kitchen. As the young man from the laboratory +had prophesied, the ceiling had fallen.</p> + +<p>“And I had the nicest biscuits for supper I +ever made,” moaned Lyddy. “They were just +as fluffy―”</p> + +<p>“Oh, bother your biscuits!” snapped ’Phemie. +“Have you had the doctor for father?”</p> + +<p>“I–I’ve sent for one,” replied Lyddy, faintly, +suddenly conscience-stricken by the fact that she +had accepted the assistance of the young stranger, +to whom she had never been introduced! “Oh, +dear! I hope he comes soon.”</p> + +<p>“How long has he been this way, Lyd? Why +didn’t you send for me?” demanded the younger +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +sister, clasping her hands and leaning over the +unconscious man.</p> + +<p>“Why, he came home from work just as usual. +I–I didn’t notice that he was worse,” replied the +older girl, breathlessly. “He said he’d lie +down―”</p> + +<p>“You should have called the doctor then.”</p> + +<p>“Why, dear, I tell you he seemed just the +same. He almost always lies down when he +comes home now. You know that.”</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, Lyddy!” exclaimed ’Phemie, +contritely. “Of course you are just as careful +of father as you can be. But–but it’s so <i>awful</i> +to see him lie like this.”</p> + +<p>“He fainted without my knowing a thing +about it,” moaned Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Oh! if it’s only just a faint―”</p> + +<p>“He couldn’t even have heard the noise upstairs +over the fire.”</p> + +<p>Just then a stream of water descended through +the cracked bedroom ceiling, first upon the back +of ’Phemie’s neck, and then upon the drugget +which covered the floor.</p> + +<p>“Suppose <i>this</i> ceiling falls, too?” wailed +Lyddy, wringing her hands.</p> + +<p>“I hope not! And we’ll have to pay the +doctor when he comes, Lyd. Have you got +money enough in your purse?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span>“I–I guess so.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll not have any more after this week,” +broke out ’Phemie, suddenly. “They told me +to-day the rush for Easter would be over Saturday +night and they would have to let me go till +next season. Isn’t that mean?”</p> + +<p>Lydia Bray had sat down upon the edge of +their father’s bed.</p> + +<p>“I guess everything <i>has</i> happened at once,” +she sighed. “I don’t see what we shall do, +’Phemie.”</p> + +<p>There came a scream from Aunt Jane. She +charged into the bedroom wildly, the back of +her dress all wet and her bonnet dangling over +one ear.</p> + +<p>“Why, your parlor ceiling is just spouting +water, girls!” she cried.</p> + +<p>Then she turned to look closely at the man +on the bed. “John Bray looks awful bad, +Lyddy. What does the doctor say?”</p> + +<p>Before her niece could reply there came a +thundering knock at the hall door.</p> + +<p>“The doctor!” cried ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>Lyddy feared it was the young stranger returning, +and she could only gasp. What should +she say to him if he came in? How introduce +him to Aunt Jane?</p> + +<p>But the latter lady took affairs into her own +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +hands at this juncture and went to the door. +She unlocked and threw it open. Several helmets +and glistening rubber coats appeared vaguely in +the hall.</p> + +<p>“Getting wet down here some; aren’t you?” +asked one of the firemen. “We’ll spread some +tarpaulins over your stuff. Fire’s out–about.”</p> + +<p>“And the water’s <i>in</i>,” returned Aunt Jane, +tartly. “Nice time to come and try to save a +body’s furniture―”</p> + +<p>“Get it out of the adjusters. They’ll be +around,” said the fireman, with a grin.</p> + +<p>“How much insurance have you, Lyddy?” +demanded the aunt, when the firemen, after covering +the already wet and bedraggled furniture, +had clumped out in their heavy boots.</p> + +<p>“Not a penny, Aunt Jane!” cried her niece, +wildly. “I never thought of it!”</p> + +<p>“Ha! you’re not so much like your mother, +then, as I thought. <i>She</i> would never have overlooked +such a detail.”</p> + +<p>“I know it! I know it!” moaned Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Now, you stop that, Aunt Jane!” exclaimed +the bolder ’Phemie. “Don’t you hound Lyd. +She’s done fine–of course she has! But anybody +might forget a thing like insurance.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!” grunted the old lady. Then she +began again:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span>“And what’s the matter with John?”</p> + +<p>“It’s the shop, Aunt,” replied Lyddy. “He +cannot stand the work any longer. I wish he +might never go back to that place again.”</p> + +<p>“And how are you going to live? What’s +’Phemie getting a week?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing–after this week,” returned the +younger girl, shortly. “I sha’n’t have any work, +and I’ve only been earning six dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!” observed Aunt Jane for a second +time.</p> + +<p>There came a light tap on the door. They +could hear it, for the confusion and shouting in +the house had abated. The fire scare was over; +but the floor above was gutted, and a good deal +of damage by water had been done on this floor.</p> + +<p>It was a physician, bag in hand. ’Phemie let +him in. Lyddy explained how her father had +come home and lain down and she had found +him, when the fire scare began, unconscious on +the bed–just as he lay now.</p> + +<p>A few questions explained to the physician the +condition of Mr. Bray, and his own observation +revealed the condition of the tenement.</p> + +<p>“He will be better off at the hospital. You +are about wrecked here, I see. That young man +who called me said he would ring up the City +Hospital.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span>The girls were greatly troubled; but Aunt Jane +was practical.</p> + +<p>“Of course, that’s the best place for him,” she +said. “Why! this flat isn’t fit for a well person +to stay in, let alone a sick man, until it is cleared +up. I shall take you girls out with me to my +boarding house for the night. Then–we’ll see.”</p> + +<p>The physician brought Mr. Bray to his senses; +but the poor man knew nothing about the fire, +and was too weak to object when they told him +he was to be removed to the hospital for a time.</p> + +<p>The ambulance came and the young interne +and the driver brought in the stretcher, covered +Mr. Bray with a gray blanket, and took him +away. The interne told the girls they could see +their father in the morning and he, too, said it +was mainly exhaustion that had brought about +the sudden attack.</p> + +<p>Aunt Jane had been stalking about the sloppy +flat–from the ruined kitchen to the front window.</p> + +<p>“Shut and lock that kitchen window, and lock +the doors, and we’ll go out and find a lodging,” +she said, briefly. “You girls can bring a bag +for the night. Mine’s at the station hard by; +I’m glad I didn’t bring it up here.”</p> + +<p>It was when Lyddy shut and locked the kitchen +window that she remembered the young man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +again. The plank had been removed, the +laboratory window was closed, and the place unlighted.</p> + +<p>“I guess he has some of the instincts of a gentleman, +after all,” she told herself. “He didn’t +come back to bother me after doing what he could +to help.”</p> + +<p>Two hours later the Bray girls were seated in +their aunt’s comfortable room at a boarding house +on a much better block than the one on which +the tenement stood. Aunt Jane had ordered up +tea and toast, and was sipping the one and nibbling +the other contentedly before a grate fire.</p> + +<p>“This is what I call comfort,” declared the +old lady, who still kept her bonnet on–nor would +she remove it save to change it for a nightcap +when she went to bed.</p> + +<p>“This is what I call comfort. A pleasant +room in a house where I have no responsibilities, +and enough noise outside to assure me that I am +in a live town. My goodness me! when Hammond +came along and wanted to marry me, and I +knew I could leave Hillcrest and never have to +go back―Well, I just about jumped down that +man’s throat I was so eager to say ‘Yes!’ +Marry him? I’d ha’ married a Choctaw Injun, +if he’d promised to take me to the city.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Aunt Jane!” exclaimed Lyddy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +“Hillcrest Farm is a beautiful place. Mother +took us there once to see it. Don’t you remember, +’Phemie? <i>She</i> loved it, too.”</p> + +<p>“And I wish she’d had it as a gift from the +old doctor,” grumbled Aunt Jane. “But it +wasn’t to be. It’s never been anything but a +nuisance to me, if I <i>was</i> born there.”</p> + +<p>“Why, the view from the porch is the loveliest +I ever saw,” said Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“And all that romantic pile of rocks at the +back of the farm!” exclaimed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Ha! what’s a view?” demanded the old lady, +in her brusk way. “Just dirt and water. And +that’s what they say <i>we’re</i> made of. I like to +study human bein’s, I do; so I’d ruther have my +view in town.”</p> + +<p>“But it’s so pretty―”</p> + +<p>“Fudge!” snapped Aunt Jane. “I’ve seen +the time, when I was a growin’ gal, and the old +doctor was off to see patients, that I’ve stood on +that same porch at Hillcrest and just <i>cried</i> for the +sight of somethin’ movin’ on the face of Natur’ +besides a cow.</p> + +<p>“View, indeed!” she pursued, hotly. “If +I’ve got to look at views, I want plenty of ‘life’ +in ’em; and I want the human figgers to be right +up close in the foreground, too!”</p> + +<p>’Phemie laughed. “And I think it would be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +just <i>blessed</i> to get out of this noisy, dirty city, +and live in a place like Hillcrest. Wouldn’t you +like it, Lyd?”</p> + +<p>“I’d love it!” declared her sister.</p> + +<p>“Well, I declare!” exclaimed Aunt Jane, sitting +bolt upright, and looking actually startled. +“Ain’t that a way out, mebbe?”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Aunt Jane?” asked +Lydia, quickly.</p> + +<p>“You know how I’m fixed, girls. Hammond +left me just money enough so’t I can live as I +like to live–and no more. The farm’s never +been aught but an expense to me. Cyrus Pritchett +is supposed to farm a part of it on shares; but +my share of the crops never pays more’n the taxes +and the repairs to the roofs of the old buildings.</p> + +<p>“It’d be a shelter to ye. The furniture stands +jest as it did in the old doctor’s day. Ye could +move right in–and I expect it would mean a lease +of life to your father.</p> + +<p>“A second-hand man wouldn’t give ye ten +dollars for your stuff in that flat. It’s ruined. +Ye couldn’t live comfortable there any more. But +if ye wanter go to Hillcrest I’m sure ye air more +than welcome to the use of the place, and perhaps +ye might git a bigger share of the crops out of +Cyrus if ye was there, than I’ve been able to git.</p> + +<p>“What d’you say, girls–what d’you say?”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span><a id='link_3'></a>CHAPTER III<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE DOCTOR DISPOSES</span></h2> + +<p>The Bray girls scarcely slept a wink that night. +Not alone were they excited by the incidents of +the evening, and the sudden illness of their father; +but the possibilities arising out of Aunt Jane +Hammond’s suggestion fired the imagination of +both Lyddy and ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>These sisters were eminently practical girls, +and they came of practical stock–as note the old-fashioned +names which their unromantic parents +had put upon them in their helpless infancy.</p> + +<p>Yet there is a dignity to “Lydia” and a beauty +to “Euphemia” which the thoughtless may not +at once appreciate.</p> + +<p>Practical as they were, the thought of going +to the old farmhouse to live–if their father could +be moved to it at once–added a zest to their +present situation which almost made their misfortune +seem a blessing.</p> + +<p>Their furniture was spoiled, as Aunt Jane had +said. And father was sick–a self-evident fact. +This sudden ill turn which Mr. Bray had suffered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +worried both of his daughters more than +any other trouble–indeed, more than all the +others in combination.</p> + +<p>Their home was ruined–but, somehow, they +would manage to find a shelter. ’Phemie would +have no more work in her present position after +this week, and Lyddy had secured no work at +all; but fortune must smile upon their efforts and +bring them work in time.</p> + +<p>These obstacles seemed small indeed beside the +awful thought of their father’s illness. How +very, very weak and ill he had looked when he +was carried out of the flat on that stretcher! +The girls clung together in their bed in the lodging +house, and whispered about it, far into the +night.</p> + +<p>“Suppose he never comes out of that hospital?” +suggested ’Phemie, in a trembling voice.</p> + +<p>“Oh, ’Phemie! don’t!” begged her sister. +“He <i>can’t</i> be so ill as all that. It’s just a breakdown, +as that doctor said. He has overworked. +He–he mustn’t ever go back to that hat shop +again.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” breathed ’Phemie; “but what <i>will</i> +he do?”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t up to him to do anything–it’s up to +<i>us</i>,” declared Lyddy, with some measure of her +confidence returning. “Why, look at us! Two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +big, healthy girls, with four capable hands and +the average amount of brains.</p> + +<p>“I know, as city workers, we are arrant failures,” +she continued, in a whisper, for their room +was right next to Aunt Jane’s, and the partition +was thin.</p> + +<p>“Do you suppose we could do better in the +country?” asked ’Phemie, slowly.</p> + +<p>“And if I am not mistaken the house is full +of old, fine furniture,” observed Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Well!” sighed the younger sister, “we’d be +sheltered, anyway. But how about eating? +Lyddy! I have <i>such</i> an appetite.”</p> + +<p>“She says we can have her share of the crops +if we will pay the taxes and make the necessary +repairs.”</p> + +<p>“Crops! what do you suppose is growing in +those fields at this time of the year?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing much. But if we could get out there +early we might have a garden and see to it that +Mr. Pritchett planted a proper crop. And we +could have chickens–I’d love that,” said Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, goodness, gracious me! Wouldn’t we +<i>all</i> love it–father, too? But how can we even +get out there, much more live till vegetables and +chickens are ripe, on nothing a week?”</p> + +<p>“That–is–what–I–don’t–see–yet,” admitted +Lyddy, slowly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span>“It’s very kind of Aunt Jane,” complained +’Phemie. “But it’s just like opening the door +of Heaven to a person who has no wings! We +can’t even reach Hillcrest.”</p> + +<p>“You and I could,” said her sister, vigorously.</p> + +<p>“How, please?”</p> + +<p>“We could walk.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Lyd! It’s fifty miles if it’s a step!”</p> + +<p>“It’s nearer seventy. Takes two hours on the +train to the nearest station; and then you ride +up the mountain a long, long way. But we could +walk it.”</p> + +<p>“And be tramps–regular tramps,” cried +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’d rather be a tramp than a pauper,” +declared the older sister, vigorously.</p> + +<p>“But poor father!”</p> + +<p>“That’s just it,” agreed Lydia. “Of course, +we can do nothing of the kind. We cannot leave +him while he is sick, nor can we take him out +there to Hillcrest if he gets on his feet +again―”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lyddy! don’t talk that way. He <i>is</i> going +to be all right after a few days’ rest.”</p> + +<p>“I do not think he will ever be well if he goes +back to work in that hat factory. If we could +only get him to Hillcrest.”</p> + +<p>“And there we’d all starve to death in a hurry,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span> +grumbled ’Phemie, punching the hard, little +boarding-house pillow. “Oh, dear! what’s the +use of talking? There is no way out!”</p> + +<p>“There’s always a way out–if we think hard +enough,” returned her sister.</p> + +<p>“Wish you’d promulgate one,” sniffed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“I am going to think–and you do the same.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to―”</p> + +<p>“Snore!” finished ’Phemie. That ended the +discussion for the time being. But Lydia lay +awake and racked her tired brain for hours.</p> + +<p>The pale light of the raw March morning +streaked the window-pane when Lydia was awakened +by her sister hurrying into her clothes for +the day’s work at the millinery store. There +would be but two days more for her there.</p> + +<p>And then?</p> + +<p>It was a serious problem. Lydia had perhaps +ten dollars in her reserve fund. Father might +not be paid for his full week if he did not go back +to the shop. His firm was not generous, despite +the fact that Mr. Bray had worked so long for +them. A man past forty, who is frequently sick +a day or two at a time, soon wears out the patience +of employers, especially when there is +young blood in the firm.</p> + +<p>’Phemie would get her week’s pay Saturday +night. Altogether, Lyddy might find thirty dollars +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +in her hand with which to face the future +for all three of them!</p> + +<p>What could she get for their soaked furniture? +These thoughts were with her while she was +dressing.</p> + +<p>’Phemie had hurried away after making her +sister promise to telephone as to her father’s +condition the minute they allowed Lyddy to see +him at the hospital. Aunt Jane was a luxurious +lie-abed, and had ordered tea and toast for nine +o’clock. Her oldest niece put on her shabby hat +and coat and went out to the nearest lunch-room, +where coffee and rolls were her breakfast.</p> + +<p>Then she walked down to Trimble Avenue and +approached the huge, double-decker where they +had lived. Salvage men were already carrying +away the charred fragments of the furniture from +the top floor. Lyddy hoped that, unlike herself, +the Smiths and the others up there had been insured +against fire.</p> + +<p>She plodded wearily up the four flights and +unlocked one of the flat doors and entered. Two +of the salvage men followed her in and removed +the tarpaulins–which had been worse than useless.</p> + +<p>“No harm done but a little water, Miss,” said +one of them, consolingly. “But you talk up to +the adjuster and he’ll make it all right.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span>They all thought, of course, that the Brays’ furniture +was insured. Lyddy closed the door and +looked over the wrecked flat.</p> + +<p>The parlor furniture coverings were all +stained, and the carpet’s colors had “run” fearfully. +Many of their little keepsakes and “gim-cracks” +had been broken when the tarpaulins were +spread.</p> + +<p>The bedrooms were in better shape, although +the bedding was somewhat wet. But the kitchen +was ruined.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” thought Lyddy, “there wasn’t +much to ruin. Everything was cheap enough. +But what a mess to clean up!”</p> + +<p>She looked out of the window across the air-shaft. +There was the boy!</p> + +<p>He nodded and beckoned to her. He had his +own window open. Lydia considered that she +had no business to talk with this young man; yet +he had played the “friend in need” the evening +before.</p> + +<p>“How’s your father?” he called, the moment +she opened her window.</p> + +<p>“I do not know yet. They told me not to +come to the hospital until nine-thirty.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you’re in a mess over there–eh?” he +said, with his most boyish smile.</p> + +<p>But Lyddy was not for idle converse. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +nodded, thanked him for his kindness the evening +before, and firmly shut the window. She thought +she knew how to keep <i>that</i> young man in his +place.</p> + +<p>But she hadn’t the heart to do anything toward +tidying up the flat now. And how she wished she +might not <i>have</i> to do it!</p> + +<p>“If we could only take our clothing and the +bedding and little things, and walk out,” she murmured, +standing in the middle of the little parlor.</p> + +<p>To try to “pick up the pieces” here was going +to be dreadfully hard.</p> + +<p>“I wish some fairy would come along and +transport us all to Hillcrest Farm in the twinkling +of an eye,” said Lyddy to herself. “I–I’d +rather starve out there than live as we have +for the past three months here.”</p> + +<p>She went to the door of the flat just as somebody +tapped gently on the panel. A poorly +dressed Jewish man stood hesitating on the threshold.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry,” said Lyddy, hastily; “but we had +trouble here last night–a fire. I can’t cook anything, +and really haven’t a thing to give―”</p> + +<p>Her mother had boasted that she had never +turned away a beggar hungry from her door, and +the oldest Bray girl always tried to feed the deserving. +The man shook his head eagerly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span>“You ain’t de idee got, lady,” he said. “I +know dere vas a fire. I foller de fires, lady.”</p> + +<p>“You follow the fires?” returned Lyddy, in +wonder.</p> + +<p>“Yes, lady. Don’dt you vant to sell de house-holdt +furnishings? I pay de highest mar-r-ket +brice for ’em. Yes, lady–I pay cash.”</p> + +<p>“Why–why―”</p> + +<p>“You vas nodt insured–yes?”</p> + +<p>“No,” admitted Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Den I bay you cash for de goots undt you +go undt puy new–ain’dt idt?”</p> + +<p>But Lyddy wasn’t thinking of buying new furniture–not +at all. She opened the door wider.</p> + +<p>“Come in and look,” she invited. “What +will you pay?”</p> + +<p>“Clodings, too?” he asked, shrewdly.</p> + +<p>“No, no! We will keep the clothing, bedding +and kitchenware, and the like. Just the furniture.”</p> + +<p>The man went through the flat quickly, but his +bright, beady eyes missed nothing. Finally he +said:</p> + +<p>“I gif you fifteen tollar, lady.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! that is too little,” gasped Lyddy.</p> + +<p>She had begun to figure mentally what it would +cost to replace even the poor little things they +had. And yet, if she could get any fair price +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +for the goods she was almost tempted to sell +out.</p> + +<p>“Lady! believe me, I make a goot offer,” declared +the man. “But I must make it a profit–no?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t sell for so little.”</p> + +<p>“How much you vant, den?” he asked +shrewdly.</p> + +<p>“Oh! a great deal more than that. Ten dollars +more, at least.”</p> + +<p>“Twenty-fife tollars!” he cried, wringing his +hands. “Belief me, lady, I shouldt be shtuck!”</p> + +<p>His use of English would have amused Lyddy +at another time; but the girl’s mind was set upon +something more important. If she only <i>could</i> +get enough money together to carry them all to +Hillcrest Farm–and to keep them going for a +while!</p> + +<p>“Fifteen dollars would not do me much good, +I am afraid,” the girl said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, lady! you could buy a whole new house-furnishings +mit so much money down–undt pay +for de rest on de installment.”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied Lyddy, firmly. “I want to get +away from here altogether. I want to get out +into the country. My father is sick; we had to +send him to the hospital last night.”</p> + +<p>The second-hand man shook his head. “You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +vas a kindt-hearted lady,” he said, with less of +his professional whine. “I gif you twenty.”</p> + +<p>And above that sum Lyddy could not move +him. But she would not decide then and there. +She felt that she must see her father, and consult +with ’Phemie, and possibly talk to Aunt Jane, +too.</p> + +<p>“You come here to-morrow morning and I’ll +tell you,” she said, finally.</p> + +<p>She locked the flat again and followed the +man down the long flights to the street. It was +not far to the hospital and Lyddy did not arrive +there much before the visitors’ hour.</p> + +<p>The house physician called her into his office +before she went up to the ward in which her +father had been placed. Already she was assured +that he was comfortable, so the keenness of her +anxiety was allayed.</p> + +<p>“What are your circumstances, Miss Bray?” +demanded the medical head of the hospital, +bluntly. “I mean your financial circumstances?”</p> + +<p>“We–we are poor, sir. And we were burned +out last night, and have no insurance. I do not +know what we really shall do–yet.”</p> + +<p>“You are the house-mother–eh?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“I am the oldest. There are only Euphemia +and me, beside poor papa―”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span>“Well, it’s regarding your father I must +speak. He’s in a bad way. We can do him +little good here, save that he will rest and have +nourishing food. But if he goes back to work +again―”</p> + +<p>“I know it’s bad for him!” cried Lyddy, with +clasped hands. “But what can we do? He +<i>will</i> crawl out to the shop as long as they will +let him come―”</p> + +<p>“He’ll not crawl out for a couple of weeks–I’ll +see to that,” said the doctor, grimly. “He’ll +stay here. But beyond that time I cannot promise. +Our public wards are very crowded, and of course, +you have no relatives, nor friends, able to furnish +a private room―”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, sir!” gasped Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Nor is <i>that</i> the best for him. He ought to +be out of the city altogether–country air and +food–mountain air especially―”</p> + +<p>“Hillcrest!” exclaimed Lyddy, aloud.</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” the doctor snapped at her, +quickly.</p> + +<p>She told him about the farm–where it was, +and all.</p> + +<p>“That’s a good place for him,” replied the +physician, coolly. “It’s three or four hundred +feet higher above sea-level than the city. It will +do him more good to live in that air than a ton +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span> +of medicine. And he can go in two weeks, or +so. Good-morning, Miss Bray,” and the busy +doctor hurried away to his multitude of duties, +having disposed of Mr. Bray’s case on the instant.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span><a id='link_4'></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE PILGRIMAGE</span></h2> + +<p>Lydia Bray was shocked indeed when they +allowed her in the ward to see her father. A +nurse had drawn a screen about the bed, and +nodded to her encouragingly.</p> + +<p>The pallor of Mr. Bray’s countenance, as he +lay there with his eyes closed, unaware of her +presence, frightened the girl. She had never +seen him utterly helpless before. He had managed +to get around every day, even if sometimes +he could not go to work.</p> + +<p>But now the forces of his system seemed to +have suddenly given out. He had overtaxed +Nature, and she was paying him for it.</p> + +<p>“Lyddy!” he whispered, when finally his heavy-lidded +eyes opened and he saw her standing beside +the cot.</p> + +<p>The girl made a brave effort to look and speak +cheerfully; and Mr. Bray’s comprehension was +so dulled that she carried the matter off very +successfully while she remained.</p> + +<p>She spoke cheerfully; she chatted about their +last night’s experiences; she even laughed over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +some of Aunt Jane’s sayings–Aunt Jane was always +a source of much amusement to Mr. Bray.</p> + +<p>But the nurse had warned her to be brief, and +soon she was beckoned away. She knew he was +in good hands at the hospital, and that they +would do all that they could for him. But what +the house physician had told her was uppermost +in her mind as she left the institution.</p> + +<p>How were they to get to Hillcrest–and live +after arriving there?</p> + +<p>“If that man paid me twenty dollars for our +furniture, I might have fifty dollars in hand,” +she thought. “It will cost us something like two +dollars each for our fares. And then there would +be the freight and baggage, and transportation +for ourselves up to Hillcrest from the station.</p> + +<p>“And how would it do to bring father to an +old, unheated house–and so early in the spring? +I guess the doctor didn’t think about that.</p> + +<p>“And how will we live until it is time for us +to go–until father is well enough to be moved? +All our little capital will be eaten up!”</p> + +<p>Lyddy’s practical sense then came to her aid. +Saturday night ’Phemie would get through at +the millinery shop. They must not remain dependent +upon Aunt Jane longer than over Sunday.</p> + +<p>“The thing to do,” she decided, “is for +’Phemie and me to start for Hillcrest immediately–on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +Monday morning at the latest. If one of +us has to come back for father when he can be +moved, all right. The cost will not be so great. +Meanwhile we can be getting the old house into +shape to receive him.”</p> + +<p>She found Aunt Jane sitting before her fire, +with a tray of tea and toast beside her, and her +bonnet already set jauntily a-top of her head, the +strings flowing.</p> + +<p>“You found that flat in a mess, I’ll be bound!” +observed Aunt Jane.</p> + +<p>Lydia admitted it. She also told her what +the second-hand man had offered.</p> + +<p>“Twenty dollars?” cried Aunt Jane. “Take +it, quick, before he has a change of heart!”</p> + +<p>But when Lyddy told her of what the doctor +at the hospital had said about Mr. Bray, and +how they really seemed forced into taking up +with the offer of Hillcrest, the old lady looked +and spoke more seriously.</p> + +<p>“You’re just as welcome to the use of the +old house, and all you can make out of the farm-crop, +as you can be. I stick to what I told you +last night. But I dunno whether you can really +be comfortable there.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll find out; we’ll try it,” returned Lyddy, +bravely. “Nothing like trying, Aunt Jane.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! there’s a good many things better +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +than trying, sometimes. You’ve got to have +sense in your trying. If it was me, I wouldn’t +go to Hillcrest for any money you could name!</p> + +<p>“But then,” she added, “I’m old and you are +young. I wish I could sell the old place for a +decent sum; but an abandoned farm on the top +of a mountain, with the railroad station six miles +away, ain’t the kind of property that sells easy +in the real estate market, lemme tell you!</p> + +<p>“Besides, there ain’t much of the two hundred +acres that’s tillable. Them romantic-looking +rocks that ’Phemie was exclaimin’ over last night, +are jest a nuisance. Humph! the old doctor +used to say there was money going to waste up +there in them rocks, though. I remember hearing +him talk about it once or twice; but jest what +he meant I never knew.”</p> + +<p>“Mineral deposits?” asked Lyddy, hopefully.</p> + +<p>“Not wuth anything. Time an’ agin there’s +been college professors and such, tappin’ the +rocks all over the farm for ‘specimens.’ But +there ain’t nothing in the line of precious min’rals +in that heap of rocks at the back of Hillcrest +Farm–believe me!</p> + +<p>“Dr. Polly useter say, however, that there was +curative waters there. He used ’em some in his +practise towards the last. But he died suddent, +you know, and nobody ever knew where he got +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +the water–’nless ’twas Jud Spink. And Jud had +run away with a medicine show years before +father died.</p> + +<p>“Well!” sighed Aunt Jane. “If you can find +any way of makin’ a livin’ out of Hillcrest Farm, +you’re welcome to it. And–just as that hospital +doctor says–it may do your father good to live +there for a spell. But <i>me</i>–it always give me +the fantods, it was that lonesome.”</p> + +<p>It seemed, as Aunt Jane said, “a way opened.” +Yet Lyddy Bray could not see very far ahead. +As she told ’Phemie that night, they could get to +the farm, bag and baggage; but how they would +exist after their arrival was a question not so +easy to answer.</p> + +<p>Lyddy had gone to one of the big grocers and +bought and paid for an order of staple groceries +and canned goods which would be delivered at +the railroad station nearest to Hillcrest on Monday +morning. Thus all their possessions could +be carted up to the farm at once.</p> + +<p>She had spent the afternoon at the flat collecting +the clothing, bedding, and other articles they +proposed taking with them. These goods she +had taken out by an expressman and shipped by +freight before six o’clock.</p> + +<p>In the morning she met the second-hand man +at the ruined flat and he paid her the twenty dollars +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +as promised. And Lyddy was glad to shake +the dust of the Trimble Avenue double-decker +from her feet.</p> + +<p>As she turned away from the door she heard +a quick step behind her and an eager voice exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“I say! I say! You’re not moving; are +you?”</p> + +<p>Lydia was exceedingly disturbed. She knew +that boy in the laboratory window had been +watching closely what was going on in the flat. +And now he had <i>dared</i> follow her. She turned +upon him a face of pronounced disapproval.</p> + +<p>“I–I beg your pardon,” he stammered. +“But I hope your father’s better? Nothing’s +happened to–to him?”</p> + +<p>“We are going to take him away from the +city–thank you,” replied Lyddy, impersonally.</p> + +<p>She noted with satisfaction that he had run +out without his cap, and in his work-apron. He +could not follow her far in such a rig through +the public streets, that was sure.</p> + +<p>“I–I’m awful sorry to have you go,” he said, +stammeringly. “But I hope it will be beneficial +to your father. I–I― You see, my own father +is none too well and we have often talked of his +living out of town somewhere–not so far but that +I could run out for the week-end, you know.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span>Lyddy merely nodded. She would not encourage +him by a single word.</p> + +<p>“Well–I wish you all kinds of luck!” exclaimed +the young fellow, finally, holding out his +hand.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” returned the very proper Lyddy, +and failed to see his proffered hand, turning +promptly and walking away, not even vouchsafing +him a backward look when she turned the corner, +although she knew very well that he was still +standing, watching her.</p> + +<p>“He may be a very nice young man,” thought +Lyddy; “but, then―”</p> + +<p>Sunday the two girls spent a long hour with +their father. They found him prepared for +the move in prospect for the family–indeed, he +was cheerful about it. The house physician had +evidently taken time to speak to the invalid about +the change he advised.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps by fall I shall be my own self again, +and we can come back to town and all go to +work. We’ll worry along somehow in the country +for one season, I am sure,” said Mr. Bray.</p> + +<p>But that was what troubled Lyddy more than +anything else. They were all so vague as to +what they should do at Hillcrest–how they would +be able to live there!</p> + +<p>Father said something about when he used to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +have a garden in their backyard, and how nice +the fresh vegetables were; and how mother +had once kept hens. But Lyddy could not see +yet how they were to have either a garden or +poultry.</p> + +<p>They were all three enthusiastic–to each +other. And the father was sure that in a fortnight +he would be well enough to travel alone +to Hillcrest; they must not worry about him. +Aunt Jane was to remain in town all that time, +and she promised to report frequently to the girls +regarding their father’s condition.</p> + +<p>“I certainly wish I could help you gals out +with money,” said the old lady that evening. +“You’re the only nieces I’ve got, and I feel as +kindly towards you as towards anybody in this +wide world.</p> + +<p>“Maybe we can get a chance to sell the farm. +If we can, I’ll help you then with a good, round +sum. Now, then! you fix up the old place and +make it look less like the Wrath o’ Fate had +struck it and maybe some foolish rich man will +come along and want to buy it. If you find a +customer, I’ll pay you a right fat commission, +girls.”</p> + +<p>But this was “all in the offing;” the Bray +girls were concerned mostly with their immediate +adventures.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span>To set forth on this pilgrimage to Hillcrest +Farm–and alone–was an event fraught with +many possibilities. Both Lyddy and ’Phemie +possessed their share of imagination, despite their +practical characters; and despite the older girl’s +having gone to college for two years, she, or +’Phemie, knew little about the world at large.</p> + +<p>So they looked forward to Monday morning +as the Great Adventure.</p> + +<p>It was a moist, sweet morning, even in the city, +when they betook themselves early to the railway +station, leaving Aunt Jane luxuriously sipping tea +and nibbling toast in bed–<i>this</i> time with her +nightcap on.</p> + +<p>March had come in like a lion; but its lamblike +qualities were now manifest and it really did +seem as though the breath of spring permeated +the atmosphere–even down here in the smoky, +dirty city. The thought of growing things inspired +’Phemie to stop at a seed store near the +station and squander a few pennies in sweet-peas.</p> + +<p>“I know mother used to put them in just as +soon as she could dig at all in the ground,” she +told her sister.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe they’ll be a very profitable +crop,” observed Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“My goodness me!” exclaimed ’Phemie, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +“let’s retain a little sentiment, Lyd! We can’t +eat ’em–no; but they’re sweet and restful to look +at. I’m going to have moon-flowers and morning-glories, +too,” and she recklessly expended +more pennies for those seeds.</p> + +<p>Their train was waiting when they reached +the station and the sisters boarded it in +some excitement. ’Phemie’s gaiety increased +the nearer they approached to Bridleburg, which +was their goal. She was a plump, rosy girl, +with broad, thick plaits of light-brown hair +(“molasses-color” she called it in contempt) +which she had begun to “do up” only upon going +to work. She had a quick blue eye, a laughing +mouth, rather wide, but fine; a nose that an +enemy–had laughing, good-natured Euphemia +Bray owned one–might have called “slightly +snubbed,” and her figure was just coming into +womanhood.</p> + +<p>Lydia’s appearance was entirely different. +They did not look much like sisters, to state the +truth.</p> + +<p>The older girl was tall, straight as a dart, with +a dignity of carriage beyond her years, dark hair +that waved very prettily and required little dressing, +and a clear, colorless complexion. Her eyes +were very dark gray, her nose high and well +chiseled, like Aunt Jane’s. She was more of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +Phelps. Aunt Jane declared Lyddy resembled +Dr. Apollo, or “Polly,” Phelps more than had +either of his own children.</p> + +<p>The train passed through a dun and sodden +country. The late thaw and the rains had swept +the snow from these lowlands; the unfilled fields +were brown and bare.</p> + +<p>Here and there, however, rye and wheat +sprouted green and promising, and in the distance +a hedge of water-maples along the river bank +seemed standing in a purple mist, for their young +leaves were already pushing into the light.</p> + +<p>“There will be pussy-willows,” exclaimed +’Phemie, “and hepaticas in the woods. Think of +<i>that</i>, Lyddy Bray!”</p> + +<p>“And the house will be as damp as the tomb–and +not a stick of wood cut–and no stoves,” +returned the older girl.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, me! you’re such an old grump!” +ejaculated ’Phemie. “Why try to cross bridges +before you come to them?”</p> + +<p>“Lucky for you, Miss, that I <i>do</i> think ahead,” +retorted Lyddy with some sharpness.</p> + +<p>There was a grade before the train climbed +into Bridleburg. Back of the straggling old +town the mountain ridge sloped up, a green and +brown wall, breaking the wind from the north +and west, thus partially sheltering the town. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +There was what farmers call “early land” about +Bridleburg, and some trucking was carried on.</p> + +<p>But the town itself was much behind the times–being +one of those old-fashioned New England +settlements left uncontaminated by the mill interests +and not yet awakened by the summer +visitor, so rife now in most of the quiet villages +of the six Pilgrim States.</p> + +<p>The rambling wooden structure with its long, +unroofed platform, which served Bridleburg as +a station, showed plainly what the railroad company +thought of the town. Many villages of less +population along the line boasted modern station +buildings, grass plots, and hedges. All that surrounded +Bridleburg’s barrack-like depôt was a +plaza of bare, rolled cinders.</p> + +<p>On this were drawn up the two ’buses from +the rival hotels–the “New Brick Hotel,” built +just after the Civil War, and the Eagle House. +Their respective drivers called languidly for customers +as the passengers disembarked from the +train.</p> + +<p>Most of these were traveling men, or townspeople. +It was only mid-forenoon and Lyddy +did not wish to spend either time or money at the +local hostelries, so she shook her head firmly at +the ’bus drivers.</p> + +<p>“We want to get settled by night at Hillcrest–if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +we can,” she told ’Phemie. “Let’s see if +your baggage and freight are here, first of all.”</p> + +<p>She waited until the station agent was at leisure +and learned that all their goods–a small, one-horse +load–had arrived.</p> + +<p>“You two girls goin’ up to the old Polly Phelps +house?” ejaculated the agent, who was a “native +son” and knew all about the “old doctor,” as +Dr. Apollo Phelps had been known throughout +two counties and on both sides of the mountain +ridge.</p> + +<p>“Why, it ain’t fit for a stray cat to live in, I +don’t believe–that house ain’t,” he added. +“More’n twenty year since the old doctor died, +and it’s been shut up ever since.</p> + +<p>“What! you his grandchildren? Sho! Mis’ +Bray–I remember. She was the old doctor’s +daughter by his secon’ wife. Ya-as.</p> + +<p>“Well, if I was you, I’d go to Pritchett’s house +to stop first. Can’t be that the old house is fit +to live in, an’ Pritchett is your nighest neighbor.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” Lyddy said, quietly. “And +can you tell me whom we could get to transport +our goods–and ourselves–to the top of the +ridge?”</p> + +<p>“Huh? Why! I seen Pritchett’s long-laiged +boy in town jest now–Lucas Pritchett. He +ain’t got away yet,” responded the station agent.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span>“I ventur’ to say you’ll find him up Market +Street a piece–at Birch’s store, or the post-office. +This train brung in the mail.</p> + +<p>“If he’s goin’ up light he oughter be willin’ +to help you out cheap. It’s a six-mile tug, you +know; you wouldn’t wanter walk it.”</p> + +<p>He pointed up the mountainside. Far, far +toward the summit of the ridge, nestling in a +background of brown and green, was a splash of +vivid white.</p> + +<p>“That’s Pritchett’s,” vouchsafed the station +agent. “If Dr. Polly Phelps’ house had a coat +of whitewash you could see it, too–jest to the +right and above Pritchett’s. Highest house on +the ridge, it is, and a mighty purty site, to my +notion.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span><a id='link_5'></a>CHAPTER V<br /><span class='h2fs'>LUCAS PRITCHETT</span></h2> + +<p>The Bray girls walked up the village street, +which opened directly out of the square. It +might have been a quarter of a mile in length, +the red brick courthouse facing them at the far +end, flanked by the two hotels. When “court +sat” Bridleburg was a livelier town than at present.</p> + +<p>On either hand were alternately rows of one, +or two-story “blocks” of stores and offices, or +roomy old homesteads set in the midst of their +own wide, terraced lawns.</p> + +<p>There were a few pleasant-looking people on +the walks and most of these turned again to look +curiously after the Bray girls. Strangers–save +in court week–were a novelty in Bridleburg, that +was sure.</p> + +<p>Market Street was wide and maple-shaded. +Here and there before the stores were “hitching +racks”–long wooden bars with iron rings set +every few feet–to which a few horses, or teams, +were hitched. Many of the vehicles were buckboards, +much appreciated in the hill country; but +there were farm wagons, as well. It was for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +one of these latter the Bray girls were in search. +The station agent had described Lucas Pritchett’s +rig.</p> + +<p>“There it is,” gasped the quick-eyed ’Phemie, +“Oh, Lyd! <i>do</i> look at those ponies. They’re as +ragged-looking as an old cowhide trunk.”</p> + +<p>“And that wagon,” sighed Lyddy. “Shall +we ride in it? We’ll be a sight going through +the village.”</p> + +<p>“We’d better wait and see if he’ll take us,” +remarked ’Phemie. “But I should worry about +what people here think of us!”</p> + +<p>As she spoke a lanky fellow, with a lean and sallow +face, lounged out of the post-office and across +the walk to the heads of the disreputable-looking +ponies. He wore a long snuff-colored overcoat +that might have been in the family for two or +three generations, and his overalls were stuck into +the tops of leg-boots.</p> + +<p>“That’s Lucas–sure,” whispered ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>But she hung back, just the same, and let her +sister do the talking. And the first effect of +Lyddy’s speech upon Lucas Pritchett was most +disconcerting.</p> + +<p>“Good morning!” Lyddy said, smiling upon +the lanky young farmer. “You are Mr. Lucas +Pritchett, I presume?”</p> + +<p>He made no audible reply, although his lips +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +moved and they saw his very prominent Adam’s +apple rise and fall convulsively. A wave of red +suddenly washed up over his face like a big +breaker rolling up a sea-beach; and each individual +freckle at once took on a vividness of +aspect that was fairly startling to the beholder.</p> + +<p>“You <i>are</i> Mr. Pritchett?” repeated Lyddy, +hearing a sudden half-strangled giggle from +’Phemie, who was behind her.</p> + +<p>“Ya-as–I be,” finally acknowledged the bashful +Lucas, that Adam’s apple going up and down +again like the slide on a trombone.</p> + +<p>“You are going home without much of a load; +aren’t you, Mr. Pritchett?” pursued Lyddy, with +a glance into the empty wagon-body.</p> + +<p>“Ya-as–I be,” repeated Lucas, with another +gulp, trying to look at both girls at once and succeeding +only in looking cross-eyed.</p> + +<p>“We are going to be your nearest neighbors, +Mr. Pritchett,” said Lyddy, briskly. “Our +aunt, Mrs. Hammond, has loaned us Hillcrest to +live in and we have our baggage and some other +things at the railway station to be carted up to +the house. Will you take it–and us? And +how much will you charge?”</p> + +<p>Lucas just gasped–’Phemie declared afterward, +“like a dying fish.” This was altogether too +much for Lucas to grasp at once; but he had followed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +Lyddy up to a certain point. He held +forth a broad, grimed, calloused palm, and faintly +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“You’re Mis’ Hammon’s nieces? Do tell! +Maw’ll be pleased to see ye–an’ so’ll Sairy.”</p> + +<p>He shook hands solemnly with Lyddy and then +with ’Phemie, who flashed him but a single glance +from her laughing eyes. The “Italian sunset +effect,” as ’Phemie dubbed Lucas’s blushes, began +to fade out of his countenance.</p> + +<p>“Can you take us home with you?” asked +Lyddy, impatient to settle the matter.</p> + +<p>“I surely can,” exclaimed Lucas. “You hop +right in.”</p> + +<p>“No. We want to know what you will charge +first–for us and the things at the depôt?”</p> + +<p>“Not a big load; air they?” queried Lucas, +doubtfully. “You know the hill’s some steep.”</p> + +<p>Lyddy enumerated the packages, Lucas checking +them off with nods.</p> + +<p>“I see,” he said. “We kin take ’em all. You +hop in―”</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie was pulling the skirt of her sister’s +jacket and Lyddy said:</p> + +<p>“No. We have some errands to do. We’ll +meet you up the street. That is your way +home?” and she indicated the far end of Market +Street.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span>“Ya-as.”</p> + +<p>“And what will you charge us?”</p> + +<p>“Not more’n a dollar, Miss,” he said, grinning. +“I wouldn’t ax ye nothin’; but this is dad’s team +and when I git a job like this he allus expects his +halvings.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Mr. Pritchett. We’ll pay you a +dollar,” agreed Lyddy, in her sedate way. “And +we’ll meet you up the street.”</p> + +<p>Lucas unhitched the ponies and stepped into +the wagon. When he turned them and gave them +their heads the ragged little beasts showed that +they were a good deal like the proverbial singed +cat–far better than they looked.</p> + +<p>“I thought you didn’t care what people thought +of you here?” observed Lyddy to her sister, as +the wagon went rattling down the street. “Yet +it seems you don’t wish to ride through Bridleburg +in Mr. Pritchett’s wagon.”</p> + +<p>“My goodness!” gasped ’Phemie, breathless +from giggling. “I don’t mind the wagon. But +<i>he’s</i> a freak, Lyd!”</p> + +<p>“Sh!”</p> + +<p>“Did you ever see such a face? And those +freckles!” went on the girl, heedless of her sister’s +admonishing voice.</p> + +<p>“Somebody may hear you,” urged Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“What if?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span>“And repeat what you say to him.”</p> + +<p>“And <i>that</i> should worry me!” returned ’Phemie, +gaily. “Oh, dear, Lyd! don’t be a grump. +This is all a great, big joke–the people and all. +And Lucas is certainly the capsheaf. Did you +ever in your life before even imagine such a +freak?”</p> + +<p>But Lyddy would not join in her hilarity.</p> + +<p>“These country people may seem peculiar to us, +who come fresh from the city,” she said, with some +gravity. “But I wonder if we don’t appear quite +as ‘queer’ and ‘green’ to them as they do +to us?”</p> + +<p>“We couldn’t,” gasped ’Phemie. “Hurry on, +Lyd. Don’t let him overtake us before we get to +the edge of town.”</p> + +<p>They passed the courthouse and waited for +Lucas and the farm wagon on the outskirts of +the village–where the more detached houses gave +place to open fields. No plow had been put into +these lower fields as yet; still, the coming spring +had breathed upon the landscape and already the +banks by the wayside were turning green.</p> + +<p>’Phemie became enthusiastic at once and before +Lucas hove in view, evidently anxiously looking +for them, the younger girl had gathered a great +bunch of early flowers.</p> + +<p>“They’re mighty purty,” commented the young +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +farmer, as the girls climbed over the wheel with +their muddy boots and all.</p> + +<p>’Phemie, giggling, took her seat on the other +side of him. She had given one look at the awkwardly +arranged load on the wagon-body and at +once became helpless with suppressed laughter. +If the girls she had worked with in the millinery +store for the last few months could see them and +their “lares and penates” perched upon this farm +wagon, with this son of Jehu for a driver!</p> + +<p>“I reckon you expect to stay a spell?” said +Lucas, with a significant glance from the conglomerate +load to Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Yes–we hope to,” replied the oldest Bray +girl. “Do you think the house is in very bad +shape inside?”</p> + +<p>“I dunno. We never go in it, Miss,” +responded Lucas, shaking his head. “Mis’ Hammon’ +never left us the key–not to upstairs. Dad’s +stored cider and vinegar in the cellar under the +east ell for sev’ral years. It’s a better cellar’n +we’ve got.</p> + +<p>“An’ I dunno what dad’ll say,” he added, “to +your goin’ up there to live.”</p> + +<p>“What’s he got to do with it?” asked ’Phemie, +quickly.</p> + +<p>“Why, we work the farm on shares an’ we was +calc’latin’ to do so this year.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span>“Our living in the house doesn’t interfere with +that arrangement,” said Lyddy, quietly. “Aunt +Jane told us all about that. I have a letter from +her for your father.”</p> + +<p>“Aw–well,” commented Lucas, slowly.</p> + +<p>The ponies had begun to mount the rise in +earnest now. They tugged eagerly at the load, +and trotted on the level stretches as though tireless. +Lyddy commented upon this, and Lucas +flushed with delight at her praise.</p> + +<p>“They’re hill-bred, they be,” he said, proudly. +“Tackle ’em to a buggy, or a light cart, an’ up +hill or down hill means the same to ’em. They +won’t break their trot.</p> + +<p>“When it comes plowin’ time we clip ’em, an’ +then they don’t look so bad in harness,” confided +the young fellow. “If–if you like, I’ll take +you drivin’ over the hills some day–when the +roads git settled.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” responded Lyddy, non-committally.</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie giggled “How nice!” and watched +the red flow into the young fellow’s face with +wicked appreciation.</p> + +<p>The roads certainly had not “settled” after the +winter frosts, if this one they were now climbing +was a proper sample. ’Phemie and Lyddy held +on with both hands to the smooth board which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +served for a seat to the springless wagon–and +they were being bumped about in a most exciting +way.</p> + +<p>’Phemie began to wonder if Lucas was not +quite as much amused by their unfamiliarity with +this method of transportation as she was by his +bashfulness and awkward manners. Lyddy fairly +wailed, at last:</p> + +<p>“Wha–what a dread–dreadful ro-o-o-ad!” +and she seized Lucas suddenly by the arm nearest +to her and frankly held on, while the forward +wheel on her side bounced into the air.</p> + +<p>“Oh, this ain’t bad for a mountain road,” the +young farmer declared, calmly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh!” squealed ’Phemie, the wheel on her +side suddenly sinking into a deep rut, so that she +slid to the extreme end of the board.</p> + +<p>“Better ketch holt on me, Miss,” advised +Lucas, crooking the arm nearest ’Phemie. “You +city folks ain’t useter this kind of travelin’, I can +see.”</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie refused, unwilling to be “beholden” +to him, and the very next moment the +ponies clattered over a culvert, through which the +brown flood of a mountain stream spurted in such +volume that the pool below the road was both +deep and angry-looking.</p> + +<p>There was a washout gullied in the road here. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +Down went the wheel on ’Phemie’s side, and with +the lurch the young girl lost her insecure hold upon +the plank.</p> + +<p>With a screech she toppled over, plunging sideways +from the wagon-seat, and as the hard-bitted +ponies swept on ’Phemie dived into the foam-streaked +pool!</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span><a id='link_6'></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><span class='h2fs'>NEIGHBORS</span></h2> + +<p>Lucas Pritchett was not as slow as he +seemed.</p> + +<p>In one motion he drew in the plunging ponies +to a dead stop, thrust the lines into Lyddy’s hands, +and vaulted over the wheel of the farm wagon.</p> + +<p>“Hold ’em!” he commanded, pulling off the +long, snuff-colored overcoat. Flinging it behind +him he tore down the bank and, in his high boots, +waded right into the stream.</p> + +<p>Poor ’Phemie was beyond her depth, although +she rose “right side up” when she came to the +surface. And when Lucas seized her she had +sense enough not to struggle much.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh, oh!” she moaned. “The wa–water +is s-so cold!”</p> + +<p>“I bet ye it is!” agreed the young fellow, and +gathering her right up into his arms, saturated as +her clothing was, he bore her to the bank and +clambered to where Lyddy was doing all she could +to hold the restive ponies.</p> + +<p>“Whoa, Spot and Daybright!” commanded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +the young farmer, soothing the ponies much +quicker than he could his human burden. “Now, +Miss, you’re all right―”</p> + +<p>“All r-r-right!” gasped ’Phemie, her teeth +chattering like castanets. “I–I’m anything <i>but</i> +right!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ’Phemie! you might have been drowned,” +cried her anxious sister.</p> + +<p>“And now I’m likely to be frozen stiff right +here in this road. Mrs. Lot wasn’t a circumstance +to me. She only turned to salt, while I am +be-be-coming a pillar of ice!”</p> + +<p>But Lucas had set her firmly on her feet, and +now he snatched up the old overcoat which had +so much amused ’Phemie, and wrapped it about +her, covering her from neck to heel.</p> + +<p>“In you go–sit ’twixt your sister and me this +time,” panted the young man. “We’ll hustle +home an’ maw’ll git you ’twixt blankets in a +hurry.”</p> + +<p>“She’ll get her death!” moaned Lyddy, holding +the coat close about the wet girl.</p> + +<p>“Look out! We’ll travel some now,” exclaimed +Lucas, leaping in, and having seized the +reins, he shook them over the backs of the ponies +and shouted to them.</p> + +<p>The remainder of that ride up the mountain +was merely a nightmare for the girls. Lucas allowed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +the ponies to lose no time, despite the load +they drew. But haste was imperative.</p> + +<p>A ducking in an icy mountain brook at this time +of the year might easily be fraught with serious +consequences. Although it was drawing toward +noon and the sun was now shining, there was no +great amount of warmth in the air. Lucas must +have felt the keen wind himself, for he was wet, +too; but he neither shivered nor complained.</p> + +<p>Luckily they were well up the mountainside +when the accident occurred. The ponies flew +around a bend where a grove of trees had shut +off the view, and there lay the Pritchett house and +outbuildings, fresh in their coat of whitewash.</p> + +<p>“Maw and Sairy’ll see to ye now,” cried Lucas, +as he neatly clipped the gatepost with one hub +and brought the lathered ponies to an abrupt stop +in the yard beside the porch.</p> + +<p>“Hi, Maw!” he added, as a very stout woman +appeared in the doorway–quite filling the opening, +in fact. “Hi, Maw! Here’s Mis’ Hammon’s +nieces–an’ one of ’em’s been in Pounder’s +Brook!”</p> + +<p>“For the land’s sake!” gasped the farmer’s +wife, pulling a pair of steel-bowed spectacles down +from her brows that she might peer through them +at the Bray girls. “Ain’t it a mite airly for sech +didoes as them?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span>“Why, Maw!” sputtered Lucas, growing red +again. “She didn’t <i>go</i> for to do it–no, +ma’am!”</p> + +<p>“Wa-al! I didn’t know. City folks is funny. +But come in–do! Mis’ Hammon’s nieces, d’ye +say? Then you must be John Horrocks Bray’s +gals–ain’t ye?”</p> + +<p>“We are,” said Lyddy, who had quickly +climbed out over the wheel and now eased down +the clumsy bundle which was her sister. “Can +you stand, ’Phemie?”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es,” chattered her sister.</p> + +<p>“I hope you can take us in for a little while, +Mrs. Pritchett,” went on the older girl. “We +are going up to Hillcrest to live.”</p> + +<p>“Take ye in? Sure! An’ ’twon’t be the first +city folks we’ve harbored,” declared the lady, +chuckling comfortably. “They’re beginnin’ to +come as thick as spatters in summer to Bridleburg, +an’ some of ’em git clear up this +way― For the land’s sake! that gal’s as wet +as sop.”</p> + +<p>“It–it was wet water I tumbled into,” stuttered +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pritchett ushered them into the big, warm +kitchen, where the table was already set for dinner. +A young woman–not so <i>very</i> young, either–as +lank and lean as Lucas himself, was busy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +at the stove. She turned to stare at the visitors +with near-sighted eyes.</p> + +<p>“This is my darter, Sairy,” said “Maw” +Pritchett. “She taught school two terms to +Pounder’s school; but it was bad for her eyes. +I tell her to git specs; but she ’lows she’s too +young for sech things.”</p> + +<p>“The oculists advise glasses nowadays for very +young persons,” observed Lyddy politely, as Sairy +Pritchett bobbed her head at them in greeting.</p> + +<p>“So I tell her,” declared the farmer’s wife. +“But she won’t listen to reason. Ye know how +young gals air!”</p> + +<p>This assumption of Sairy’s extreme youth, and +that Lyddy would understand her foibles because +she was so much older, amused the latter immensely. +Sairy was about thirty-five.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Mrs. Pritchett bustled about with +remarkable spryness to make ’Phemie comfortable. +There was a warm bedroom right off the +kitchen–for this was an old-fashioned New England +farmhouse–and in this the younger Bray +girl took off her wet clothing. Lyddy brought +in their bag and ’Phemie managed to make herself +dry and tidy–all but her great plaits of hair–in +a very short time.</p> + +<p>She would not listen to Mrs. Pritchett’s advice +that she go to bed. But she swallowed a bowl +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span> +of hot tea and then declared herself “as good as +new.”</p> + +<p>The Bray girls had now to tell Mrs. Pritchett +and her daughter their reason for coming to Hillcrest, +and what they hoped to do there.</p> + +<p>“For the land’s sake!” gasped the farmer’s +wife. “I dunno what Cyrus’ll say to this.”</p> + +<p>It struck Lyddy that they all seemed to be +somewhat in fear of what Mr. Pritchett might +say. He seemed to be a good deal of a “bogie” +in the family.</p> + +<p>“We shall not interfere with Mr. Pritchett’s +original arrangement with Aunt Jane,” exclaimed +Lyddy, patiently.</p> + +<p>“Well, ye’ll hafter talk to Cyrus when he +comes in to dinner,” said the farmer’s wife. “I +dunno how he’ll take it.”</p> + +<p>“<i>We</i> should worry about how he ‘takes it,’” +commented ’Phemie in Lyddy’s ear. “I guess +we’ve got the keys to Hillcrest and Aunt Jane’s +permission to live in the house and make what +we can off the place. What more is there to it?”</p> + +<p>But the older Bray girl caught a glimpse of +Cyrus Pritchett as he came up the path from the +stables, and she saw that he was nothing at all +like his rotund and jolly wife–not in outward +appearance, at least.</p> + +<p>The Pritchett children got their extreme height +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +from Cyrus–and their leanness. He was a grizzled +man, whose head stooped forward because +he was so tall, and who looked fiercely on the +world from under penthouse brows.</p> + +<p>Every feature of his countenance was grim and +forbidding. His cheeks were gray, with a stubble +of grizzled beard upon them. When he came +in and was introduced to the visitors he merely +grunted an acknowledgment of their names and +immediately dropped into his seat at the head of +the table.</p> + +<p>As the others came flocking about the board, +Cyrus Pritchett opened his lips just once, and not +until the grace had been uttered did the visitors +understand that it was meant for a reverence +before meat.</p> + +<p>“For wha’ we’re ’bout to r’ceive make us tru’ +grat’ful–pass the butter, Sairy,” and the old man +helped himself generously and began at once to +stow the provender away without regard to the +need or comfort of the others about his board.</p> + +<p>But Maw Pritchett and her son and daughter +seemed to be used to the old man’s way, and they +helped each other and the Bray girls with no niggard +hand. Nor did the shuttle of conversation +lag.</p> + +<p>“Why, I ain’t been in the old doctor’s house +since he died,” said Mrs. Pritchett, reflectively. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +“Mis’ Hammon’, she’s been up here two or three +times, an’ she allus goes up an’ looks things over; +but I’m too fat for walkin’ up to Hillcrest–I be,” +concluded the lady, with a chuckle.</p> + +<p>She seemed as jolly and full of fun as her +husband was morose. Cyrus Pritchett only glowered +on the Bray girls when he looked at them +at all.</p> + +<p>But Lyddy and ’Phemie joined in the conversation +with the rest of the family. ’Phemie, although +she had made so much fun of Lucas at +first, now made amends by declaring him to be a +hero–and sticking to it!</p> + +<p>“I’d never have got out of that pool if it +hadn’t been for Lucas,” she repeated; “unless I +could have drunk up the water and walked ashore +that way! And o-o-oh! wasn’t it cold!”</p> + +<p>“Hope you’re not going to feel the effects of +it later,” said her sister, still anxious.</p> + +<p>“I’m all right,” assured the confident ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“I dunno as it’ll be fit for you gals to stay +in the old house to-night,” urged Mrs. Pritchett. +“You’ll hafter have some wood cut.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do that when I take their stuff up to Hillcrest,” +said Lucas, eagerly, but flushing again as +though stricken with a sudden fever.</p> + +<p>“There are no stoves in the house, I suppose?” +Lyddy asked, wistfully.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span>“Bless ye! Dr. Polly wouldn’t never have a +stove in his house, saving a cook-stove in the +kitchen, an’ of course, that’s ate up with rust +afore this,” exclaimed the farmer’s wife. “He +said open fireplaces assured every room its proper +ventilation. He didn’t believe in these new-fangled +ways of shuttin’ up chimbleys. My! but +he was powerful sot on fresh air an’ sunshine.</p> + +<p>“Onct,” pursued Mrs. Pritchett, “he was +called to see Mis’ Fibbetts–she that was a widder +and lived on ’tother side of the ridge, on the +road to Adams. She had a mis’ry of some kind, +and was abed with all the winders of her room +tight closed.</p> + +<p>“‘Open them winders,’ says Dr. Polly to the +neighbor what was a-nussin’ of Mis’ Fibbetts.</p> + +<p>“Next time he come the winders was down +again. Dr. Polly warn’t no gentle man, an’ he +swore hard, he did. He flung up the winders +himself, an’ stamped out o’ the room.</p> + +<p>“It was right keen weather,” chuckled Mrs. +Pritchett, her double chins shaking with enjoyment, +“and Mis’ Fibbetts was scart to death of +a leetle air. Minute Dr. Polly was out o’ sight +she made the neighbor woman shet the winders +ag’in.</p> + +<p>“But when Dr. Polly turned up the ridge road +he craned out’n the buggy an’ he seen the winders +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +shet. He jerked his old boss aroun’, drove back +to the house, stalked into the sick woman’s room, +cane in hand, and smashed every pane of glass in +them winders, one after another.</p> + +<p>“‘Now I reckon ye’ll git air enough to cure +ye ’fore ye git them mended,’ says he, and marched +him out again. An’ sure ’nough old Mis’ Fibbetts +got well an’ lived ten year after. But she +never had a good word for Dr. Polly Phelps, jest +the same,” chuckled the narrator.</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll make out somehow about fires,” +said Lyddy, cheerfully, “if Lucas can cut us +enough wood to keep them going.”</p> + +<p>“I sure can,” declared the ever-ready youth, +and just here Cyrus Pritchett, having eaten his +fill, broke in upon the conversation in a tone that +quite startled Lyddy and ’Phemie Bray.</p> + +<p>“I wanter know what ye mean to do up there +on the old Polly Phelps place?” he asked, pushing +back his chair, having set down his coffee-cup +noisily, and wiped his cuff across his lips. “I +gotta oral contract with Jane Hammon’ to work +that farm. It’s been in force year arter year for +more’n ten good year. An’ that contract ain’t +to be busted so easy.”</p> + +<p>“Now, Father!” admonished Mrs. Pritchett; +but the old man glared at her and she at once +subsided.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span>Cyrus Pritchett certainly was a masterful man +in his own household. Lucas dropped his gaze +to his plate and his face flamed again. But Sairy +turned actually pale.</p> + +<p>Somehow the cross old man did not make +Lyddy Bray tremble. She only felt angry that +he should be such a bully in his own home.</p> + +<p>“Suppose you read Aunt Jane’s letter, Mr. +Pritchett,” she said, taking it from her handbag +and laying it before the farmer.</p> + +<p>The old man grunted and slit the flap of the +envelope with his greasy tableknife. He drew +his brows down into even a deeper scowl as he +read.</p> + +<p>“So she turns her part of the contract over to +you two chits of gals; does she?” said Mr. Pritchett, +at last. “Humph! I don’t think much of +that, now I tell ye.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Pritchett,” said Lyddy, firmly, “if you +don’t care to work the farm for us on half shares, +as you have heretofore with Aunt Jane, pray say +so. I assure you we will not be offended.”</p> + +<p>“And what’ll you do then?” he growled.</p> + +<p>“If you refuse to put in a crop for us?”</p> + +<p>“Ya-as.”</p> + +<p>“Get some other neighboring farmer to do +so,” replied Lyddy, promptly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you will, eh?” growled Cyrus Pritchett, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +sitting forward and resting his big hands on his +knees, while he glared like an angry dog at the +slight girl before him.</p> + +<p>The kitchen was quite still save for his booming +voice. The family was evidently afraid of +the old man’s outbursts of temper.</p> + +<p>But Lyddy Bray’s courage rose with her indignation. +This cross old farmer was a mere +bully after all, and there was never a bully yet +who was not a moral coward!</p> + +<p>“Mr. Pritchett,” she told him, calmly, “you +cannot frighten me by shouting at me. I may as +well tell you right now that the crops you have +raised for Aunt Jane of late years have not been +satisfactory. We expect a better crop this year, +and if you do not wish to put it in, some other +neighbor will.</p> + +<p>“This is a good time to decide the matter. +What do you say?”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span><a id='link_7'></a>CHAPTER VII<br /><span class='h2fs'>HILLCREST</span></h2> + +<p>Mrs. Pritchett and Sairy really were frightened +by Lyddy Bray’s temerity. As for Lucas, he +still hung his head and would not look at his +father.</p> + +<p>Cyrus Pritchett had bullied his family so long +that to be bearded in his own house certainly +amazed him. He glared at the girl for fully a +minute, without being able to formulate any reply. +Then he burst out with:</p> + +<p>“You let me ketch any other man on this ridge +puttin’ a plow inter the old doctor’s land! I’ve +tilled it for years, I tell ye―”</p> + +<p>“And you can till it again, Mr. Pritchett,” said +Lyddy, softly. “You needn’t holler so about it–we +all hear you.”</p> + +<p>The coolness of the girl silenced him.</p> + +<p>“So, now it’s understood,” she went on, smiling +at him brightly. “And we’ll try this year to make +a little better crop. We really must get something +more out of it than the taxes.”</p> + +<p>“Jane Hammon’ won’t buy no fertilizer,” +growled Mr. Pritchett, put on the defensive–though +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +he couldn’t tell why. “An’ ye can’t +grow corn on run-down land without potash an’ +kainit, and the like.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you shall tell us all about that later,” +declared Lyddy, “and we’ll see. I understand +that you can’t get blood from a turnip. We +want to put Hillcrest in better shape–both in +and out of the house–and then there’ll be a +better chance to sell it.”</p> + +<p>Cyrus Pritchett’s eyes suddenly twinkled with +a shrewd light.</p> + +<p>“Does Jane Hammon’ really want to sell the +farm?” he queried.</p> + +<p>“If she gets a good offer,” replied Lyddy. +“That’s what we hope to do while we’re at Hillcrest–make +the place more valuable and more +attractive to the possible buyer.”</p> + +<p>“Ha!” grunted Cyrus, sneeringly. “She’ll +get a fancy price for Hillcrest–not!”</p> + +<p>But that ended the discussion. “Maw” +Pritchett looked on in wonder. She had seen her +husband beaten in an argument by a “chit of a +girl”–and really, Cyrus did not seem to be very +ugly, or put out about it, either!</p> + +<p>He told Lucas to put the ponies to the wagon +again, and to take the Bray girls and their belongings +up to Hillcrest; and to see that they were +comfortable for the night before he came back.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span>This encouraged Mrs. Pritchett, when Lyddy +took out her purse to pay for their entertainment, +to declare:</p> + +<p>“For the good land, no! We ain’t goin’ to +charge ye for a meal of vittles–and you gals Dr. +Polly Phelps’s own grandchildren! B’sides, we want +ye to be neighborly. It’s nice for Sairy to have +young companions, too. I tell her she’ll git to +be a reg’lar old maid if she don’t ’sociate more +with gals of her own age.”</p> + +<p>Sairy bridled and blushed at this. But she +wasn’t an unkind girl, and she helped ’Phemie +gather their possessions–especially the latter’s +wet clothing.</p> + +<p>“I’m sure I wish ye joy up there at the old +house,” said Sairy, with a shudder. “But ye +wouldn’t ketch me.”</p> + +<p>“Catch you doing what?” asked ’Phemie, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“Stayin’ in Dr. Phelps’s old house over night,” +explained Sairy.</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>The farmer’s daughter drew close to ’Phemie’s +ear and whispered:</p> + +<p>“It’s ha’nted!”</p> + +<p>“<i>What?</i>” cried ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Ghosts,” exclaimed Sairy, in a thrilling voice. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +“All old houses is ha’nted. And that’s been give +up to ghosts for years an’ years.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, goody!” exclaimed ’Phemie, clasping +her hands and almost dancing in delight. “Do +you mean it’s a really, truly haunted house?”</p> + +<p>Sairy Pritchett gazed at her with slack jaw +and round eyes for a minute. Then she sniffed.</p> + +<p>“Wa-al!” she muttered. “I re’lly thought +you was <i>bright</i>. But I see ye ain’t got any too +much sense, after all,” and forthwith refused to +say anything more to ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>But the younger Bray girl decided to say +nothing about the supposed ghostly occupants of +Hillcrest to her sister–for the present, at least.</p> + +<p>There was still half a mile of road to climb +to Hillcrest, for the way was more winding than +it had been below; and as the girls viewed the +summit of the ridge behind Aunt Jane’s old farm +they saw that the heaped-up rocks were far more +rugged than romantic, after all.</p> + +<p>“There’s two hundred acres of it,” Lucas observed, +chirruping to the ponies. “But more’n +a hundred is little more’n rocks. And even the +timber growin’ among ’em ain’t wuth the cuttin’. +Ye couldn’t draw it out. There’s firewood +enough on the place, and a-plenty! But that’s +’bout all–’nless ye wanted to cut fence rails, or +posts.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span>“What are those trees at one side, near the +house?” queried Lyddy, interestedly.</p> + +<p>“The old orchard. <i>There’s</i> your nearest firewood. +Ain’t been much fruit there since I can +remember. All run down.”</p> + +<p>And, indeed, Hillcrest looked to be, as they +approached it, a typical run-down farm. Tall, +dry weed-stalks clashed a welcome to them from +the fence corners as the ponies turned into the +lane from the public road. The sun had drawn +a veil of cloud across his face and the wind +moaned in the gaunt branches of the beech trees +that fringed the lane.</p> + +<p>The house was set upon a knoll, with a crumbling, +roofed porch around the front and sides. +There were trees, but they were not planted near +enough to the house to break the view on every +side but one of the sloping, green and brown +mountainside, falling away in terraced fields, +patches of forest, tablelands of rich, tillable soil, +and bush-cluttered pastures, down into the shadowy +valley, through which the river and the railroad +wound.</p> + +<p>Behind Hillcrest, beyond the outbuildings, and +across the narrow, poverty-stricken fields, were +the battlements of rock, shutting out all view but +that of the sky.</p> + +<p>Lonely it was, as Aunt Jane had declared; but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +to the youthful eyes of the Bray girls the outlook +was beautiful beyond compare!</p> + +<p>“Our land jines this farm down yonder a +piece,” explained Lucas, drawing in the ponies +beside the old house. “Ye ain’t got nobody behind +ye till ye git over the top of the ridge. Your +line follers the road on this side, and on the other +side of the road is Eben Brewster’s stock farm of +a thousand acres–mostly bush-parsture an’ rocks, +up this a-way.”</p> + +<p>The girls were but momentarily interested in +the outlook, however. It was the old house itself +which their bright eyes scanned more particularly +as they climbed down from the wagon.</p> + +<p>There were two wings, or “ells.” In the west +wing was the kitchen and evidently both sitting +and sleeping rooms, upstairs and down–enough +to serve all their present needs. Aunt Jane had +told them that there were, altogether, twenty-two +rooms in the old house.</p> + +<p>Lucas hitched his horses and then began to lift +down their luggage. Lyddy led the way to the +side door, of which she had the key.</p> + +<p>The lower windows were defended by tight +board shutters, all about the house. The old +house had been well guarded from the depredations +of casual wayfarers. Had tramps passed +this way the possible plunder in the old house had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +promised to be too bulky to attract them; and +such wanderers could have slept as warmly in +the outbuildings.</p> + +<p>Lyddy inserted the key and, after some trouble, +for the lock was rusty, turned it. There was an +ancient brass latch, and she lifted it and pushed +the door open.</p> + +<p>“My! isn’t it dark–and musty,” the older +sister said, hesitating on the threshold.</p> + +<p>“Welcome to the ghosts of Hillcrest,” spoke +’Phemie, in a sepulchral voice.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t!” gasped Lyddy.</p> + +<p>She had not been afraid of Cyrus Pritchett, but +’Phemie’s irreverence for the spirits of the old +house shocked her.</p> + +<p>“All right,” laughed the younger girl. “We’ll +cut out the ghosts, then.”</p> + +<p>“We most certainly <i>will</i>. If I met a ghost +here I’d certainly cut him dead!”</p> + +<p>’Phemie went forward boldly and opened the +door leading into the big kitchen. It was gloomy +there, too, for the shutters kept out most of the +light. The girls could see, however, that it was +a well-furnished room. They were delighted, +too, for this must be their living-room until they +could set the house to rights.</p> + +<p>“Dust, dust everywhere,” said ’Phemie, making +a long mark in it with her finger on the dresser.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span>“But <i>only</i> dust. We can get cleaned up here +all right by evening. Come! unhook the shutters +and let in the light of day.”</p> + +<p>The younger girl raised one of the small-paned +window sashes, unbolted the shutter, and pushed +both leaves open. The light streamed in and +almost at once Lucas’s head appeared.</p> + +<p>“How does it look to ye–eh?” he asked, +grinning. “Gee! the hearth’s all cleared and +somebody’s had a fire here.”</p> + +<p>“It must have been a long time ago,” returned +Lyddy, noting the crusted ashes between the andirons.</p> + +<p>“Wa-al,” said Lucas, slowly. “I’ll git to +work with the axe an’ soon start ye a fire there, +B-r-r-r! it’s cold as a dog’s nose in there,” and he +disappeared again.</p> + +<p>But the sunlight and air which soon flooded the +room through all the windows quickly gave the +long-shut-up kitchen a new atmosphere.</p> + +<p>’Phemie already had on a working dress, having +changed at the Pritchett house after her unfortunate +ducking; Lyddy soon laid aside her own better +frock, too.</p> + +<p>Then they found their bundle of brooms and +brushes, and set to work. There was a pump on +the back porch and a well in the yard. During +all these empty years the leather valve of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +pump had rotted away; but Lucas brought them +water from the well.</p> + +<p>“I kin git the shoemaker in town to cut ye out +a new leather,” said the young farmer. “He’s +got a pattern. An’ I can put it in for ye. The +pump’ll be a sight handier than the well for you +two gals.”</p> + +<p>“Now, isn’t he a nice boy?” demanded Lyddy +of her sister. “And you called him a freak.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t rub it in, Lyd,” snapped ’Phemie. +“But it is hard to have to accept a veritable gawk +of a fellow like Lucas–for that’s what he <i>is</i>!–as +a sure-enough hero.”</p> + +<p>This was said aside, of course, and while Lucas +was doing yeoman’s work at the woodpile. He +had brought in a huge backlog, placed it carefully, +laid a forestick and the kindling, and soon blue +and yellow flames were weaving through the well-built +structure of the fire. There was a swinging +crane for the kettle and a long bar with hooks +upon it, from which various cooking pots could +dangle. Built into the chimney, too, was a brick +oven with a sheet-iron door. The girls thought +all these old-fashioned arrangements delightful, +whether they proved convenient, or not.</p> + +<p>They swept and dusted the old kitchen +thoroughly, and cleaned the cupboards and pantry-closet. +Then they turned their attention to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +half bedchamber, half sitting-room that opened +directly out of the kitchen. In these two rooms +they proposed to live at first–until their father +could join them, at least.</p> + +<p>There was an old-time high, four-post bed in +this second room. It had been built long before +some smart man had invented springs, and +its frame was laced from side to side, and up +and down, like the warp and woof of a rug, +with a “bedrope” long since rotted and moth-eaten.</p> + +<p>“My goodness me!” exclaimed ’Phemie, +laughing. “That will never hold you and me, +Lyd. We’ll just have to stuff that old tick +with hay and sleep on the floor.”</p> + +<p>But Lucas heard their discussion and again +came to their help. Lyddy had bought a new +clothesline when she purchased her food supplies +at the city department store, and the clever Lucas +quickly roped the old bedstead.</p> + +<p>“That boy certainly is rising by leaps and +bounds in my estimation,” admitted ’Phemie, in +a whisper, to her sister.</p> + +<p>Then came the problem of the bed. Lyddy +had saved their pillows from the wreck of the +flat; but the mattresses had gone with the furniture +to the second-hand man. There might be +good feather beds in the farmhouse attic; Aunt +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +Jane had said something about them, Lyddy believed. +But there was no time to hunt for these +now.</p> + +<p>“Here is a tick,” ’Phemie said again. +“What’ll we fill it with?”</p> + +<p>“Give it to me,” volunteered Lucas. “One +of the stable lofts is half full of rye straw. We +thrashed some rye on this place last year. It’s +jest as good beddin’ for humans as it is for cattle, +I declare.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” sighed ’Phemie. “We’ll bed +down like the cows for a while. I don’t see anything +better to do.”</p> + +<p>But really, by sunset, they were nearly to rights +and the prospect for a comfortable first night at +Hillcrest was good.</p> + +<p>Lucas’s huge fire warmed both the kitchen and +the bedroom, despite the fact that the evening +promised to be chilly, with the wind mourning +about the old house and rattling the shutters. +The girls closed the blinds, made all cozy, and +bade young Pritchett good-night.</p> + +<p>Lyddy had paid him the promised dollar for +transporting their goods, and another half-dollar +for the work he had done about the house +that afternoon.</p> + +<p>“And I’ll come up in the mornin’ an’ bring ye +the milk an’ eggs maw promised ye,” said Lucas, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +as he drove away, “and I’ll cut ye some more +wood then.”</p> + +<p>There was already a great heap of sticks beside +the hearth, and in the porch another windrow, +sheltered from any possible storm.</p> + +<p>“We’re in luck to have such good neighbors,” +sighed Lyddy, as the farm wagon rattled away.</p> + +<p>“My! but we’re going to have good times +here,” declared ’Phemie, coming into the house +after her and closing and locking the door.</p> + +<p>“It’s a long way off from everybody else,” +observed the older sister, in a doubtful tone. +“But I don’t believe we shall be disturbed.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!” cried ’Phemie. “Let’s have +supper. I’m starved to death.”</p> + +<p>She swung the blackened old tea-kettle over the +blaze, and moved briskly about the room laying +the cloth, while Lyddy got out crackers and cheese +and opened a tin of meat before she brewed the +comforting cup of tea that both girls wanted.</p> + +<p>However, they <i>were</i> alone–half a mile from +the nearest habitation–and if nothing else, they +could not help secretly comparing their loneliness +with the tenement in the city from which they +had so recently graduated.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span><a id='link_8'></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE WHISPER IN THE DARK</span></h2> + +<p>’Phemie was very bold–until something really +scared her–and then she was quite likely to lose +her head altogether. Lyddy was timid by nature, +but an emergency forced her courage to high +pressure.</p> + +<p>They both, however, tried to ignore the fact +that they were alone in the old house, far up on +the mountainside, and a considerable distance +from any neighbor.</p> + +<p>That was why they chattered so all through +supper–and afterward. Neither girl cared to +let silence fall upon the room.</p> + +<p>The singing of the kettle on the crane was a +blessing. It made music that drove away “that +lonesome feeling.” And when it actually bubbled +over and the drip of it fell hissing into the fire, +’Phemie laughed as though it were a great joke.</p> + +<p>“Such a jolly thing as an open fire is, I declare,” +she said, sitting down at last in one of the +low, splint-bottomed chairs, when the supper +dishes were put away. “I don’t blame Grandfather +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +Phelps for refusing to allow stoves to be +put up in his day.”</p> + +<p>“I fancy it would take a deal of wood to heat +the old house in real cold weather,” Lyddy said. +“But it <i>is</i> cheerful.”</p> + +<p>“Woo-oo! woo-oo-oo!” moaned the wind +around the corner of the house. A ghostly hand +rattled a shutter. Then a shrill whistle in the +chimney startled them.</p> + +<p>At such times the sisters talked all the faster–and +louder. It was really quite remarkable +how much they found to say to each other.</p> + +<p>They wondered how father was getting along +at the hospital, and if Aunt Jane would surely +see him every day or two, and write them. Then +they exchanged comments upon what they had +seen of Bridleburg, and finally fell back upon the +Pritchetts as a topic of conversation–and that +family seemed an unfailing source of suggestion +until finally ’Phemie jumped up, declaring:</p> + +<p>“What’s the use of this, Lyd? Let’s go to +bed. We’re both half scared to death, but we’ll +be no worse off in bed―And, b-r-r-r! the fire’s +going down.”</p> + +<p>They banked the fire as Lucas had advised +them, put out the lamp, and retired with the +candle to the bedroom. The straw mattress +rustled as though it were full of mice, when the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +sisters had said their prayers and climbed into +bed. ’Phemie blew out the candle; but she had +laid matches near it on the high stand beside her +pillow.</p> + +<p>“I hope there <i>are</i> feather beds in the garret,” +she murmured, drowsily. “This old straw is <i>so</i> +scratchy.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll look to-morrow,” Lyddy said. “Aunt +Jane said we could make use of anything we +found here. But, my! it’s a big house for only +three people.”</p> + +<p>“It is,” admitted ’Phemie. “I’d feel a whole +lot better if it was full of folks.”</p> + +<p>“I have it!” exclaimed Lyddy, suddenly. +“We might take boarders.”</p> + +<p>“Summer boarders?” asked her sister, curiously.</p> + +<p>“I–I s’pose so.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a long way ahead. It’s winter yet,” +and ’Phemie snuggled down into her pillow. +“Folks from the city would never want to come +to an old house like this–with so few conveniences +in it.”</p> + +<p>“<i>We</i> like it; don’t we?” demanded Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know whether we do yet, or not,” +replied ’Phemie. “Let’s wait and see.”</p> + +<p>’Phemie was drowsy, yet somehow she couldn’t +fall asleep. Usually she was the first of the two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +to do so; but to-night Lyddy’s deeper breathing +assured the younger sister that she alone was awake +in all the great, empty house.</p> + +<p>And Sairy Pritchett had intimated that Hillcrest +was haunted!</p> + +<p>Now, ’Phemie didn’t believe in ghosts–not at +all. She would have been very angry had anyone +suggested that there was a superstitious strain +in her character.</p> + +<p>Yet, as she lay there beside her sleeping sister +she began to hear the strangest sounds.</p> + +<p>It wasn’t the wind; nor was it the low crackling +of the fire on the kitchen hearth. She could easily +distinguish both of these. Soon, too, she made +out the insistent gnawing of a rat behind the mopboard. +That long-tailed gentleman seemed determined +to get in; but ’Phemie was not afraid of +rats. At least, not so long as they kept out of +sight.</p> + +<p>But there were other noises. Once ’Phemie +had all but lost herself in sleep when–it seemed–a +voice spoke directly in her ear. It said:</p> + +<p>“<i>I thought I’d find you here.</i>”</p> + +<p>’Phemie started into a sitting posture in the +rustling straw bed. She listened hard.</p> + +<p>The voice was silent. The fire was still. The +wind had suddenly dropped. Even the rat had +ceased his sapping and mining operations.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span>What had frightened Mr. Rat away?</p> + +<p>He, too, must have heard that mysterious voice. +’Phemie could not believe she had imagined it.</p> + +<p>Was that a rustling sound? Were those distant +steps she heard–somewhere in the house? Did +she hear a door creak?</p> + +<p>She slipped out of bed, drew on her woollen +wrapper and thrust her feet into slippers. She +saw that it was bright moonlight outside, for a +pencil of light came through a chink in one of +the shutters.</p> + +<p>Lyddy slept as calmly as a baby–and ’Phemie +was glad. Of course, it was all foolishness about +ghosts; but she believed there was somebody +prowling about the house.</p> + +<p>She lit the candle and after the flame had sputtered +a bit and began to burn clear she carried it +into the kitchen. Their little round alarm clock +ticked modestly on the dresser. It was not yet +ten o’clock.</p> + +<p>“Not the ‘witching hour of midnight, when +graveyards yawn’–and other people do, too,” +thought ’Phemie, giggling nervously. “Surely +ghosts cannot be walking yet.”</p> + +<p>Indeed, she was quite assured that what she +had heard–both the voice and the footsteps–were +very much of the earth, earthy. There was +nothing supernatural in the mysterious sounds.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span>And it seemed to ’Phemie as though the steps +had retreated toward the east ell–the other wing +of the rambling old farmhouse.</p> + +<p>What was it Lucas Pritchett had said about his +father using the cellar under the east wing at Hillcrest? +Yet, what would bring Cyrus Pritchett–or +anybody else–up here to the vinegar cellar at +ten o’clock at night?</p> + +<p>’Phemie grew braver by the minute. She determined +to run this mystery down, and she was +quite sure that it would prove to be a very human +and commonplace mystery after all. She opened +the door between the kitchen and the dark side +hall by which they had first entered the old house +that afternoon. Although she had never been +this way, ’Phemie knew that out of this square +hall opened a long passage leading through the +main house to the east wing.</p> + +<p>And she easily found the door giving entrance +to this corridor. But she hesitated when she +stood on the threshold, and almost gave up the +venture altogether.</p> + +<p>A cold, damp breath rushed out at her–just +as though some huge, subterranean monster lay +in wait for her in the darkness–a darkness so +dense that the feeble ray of her candle could only +penetrate it a very little way.</p> + +<p>“How foolish of me!” murmured ’Phemie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +“I’ve come so far–I guess I can see it +through.”</p> + +<p>She certainly did not believe that the steps and +voice were inside the house. The passage was +empty before her. She refused to let the rising +tide of trepidation wash away her self-control.</p> + +<p>So she stepped in boldly, holding the candle +high, and proceeded along the corridor. There +were tightly closed doors on either side, and behind +each door was a mystery. She could not +help but feel this. Every door was a menace to +her peace of mind.</p> + +<p>“But I will <i>not</i> think of such things,” she told +herself. “I know if there <i>is</i> anybody about the +house, it is a very human somebody indeed–and +he has no business here at this time of night!”</p> + +<p>In her bed-slippers ’Phemie’s light feet fell +softly on the frayed oilcloth that carpeted the +long hall. Dimly she saw two or three heavy, +ancient pieces of furniture standing about–a tall +escritoire with three paneled mirrors, which reflected +herself and her candle dimly; a long davenport +with hungry arms and the dust lying thick +upon its haircloth upholstery; chairs with highly +ornate spindles in their perfectly “straight up and +down,” uncomfortable-looking backs.</p> + +<p>She came to the end of the hall. A door faced +her which she was sure must lead into the east +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +wing. There, Aunt Jane had said, old Dr. Polly +Phelps had had his office, consultation room, and +workshop, or laboratory. ’Phemie’s hand hesitated +on the latch.</p> + +<p>Should she venture into the old doctor’s rooms? +The greater part of his long and useful life had +been spent behind this green-painted door. +’Phemie, of course, had never seen her grandfather; +but she had seen his picture–that of a +tall, pink-faced, full-bodied man, his cheeks and +lips cleanly shaven, but with a fringe of silvery +beard under his chin, and long hair.</p> + +<p>It seemed to her for a moment as though, if she +opened this door, the apparition of the old doctor, +just as he was in his picture, would be there to face +her.</p> + +<p>“You little fool!” whispered the shaken +’Phemie to herself. “Go on!”</p> + +<p>She lifted the latch. The door seemed to +stick. She pressed her knee against the panel; +it did not give at all.</p> + +<p>And then she discovered that the door was +locked. But the key was there, and in a moment +she turned it creakingly and pushed the door open.</p> + +<p>The air in the corridor had been still; but suddenly +a strong breeze drew this green door wide +open. The wind rushed past, blew out the candle, +and behind her the other door, which she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +had left ajar, banged heavily, echoing and reechoing +through the empty house.</p> + +<p>’Phemie was startled, but she understood at +once the snuffing of her candle and the closing of +the other door. She only hoped Lyddy would +not be frightened by the noise–or by her absence +from her side.</p> + +<p>“I’ll see it through, just the same,” declared +the girl, her teeth set firmly on her lower lip. +“Ha! driven away by a draught–not I!”</p> + +<p>She groped her way into the room and closed +the green door. There was a match upon her +candlestick and she again lighted the taper. +Quickly the first room in this east wing suite was +revealed to her gaze.</p> + +<p>This had been the anteroom, or waiting-room +for the old doctor’s patients. There was a door +opening on the side porch. A long, old-fashioned +settee stood against one wall, and some splint-bottomed +chairs were set stiffly about the room, +while a shaky mahogany table, with one pedestal +leg, occupied the center of the apartment.</p> + +<p>’Phemie was more careful of the candle now +and shielded the flame with her hollowed palm +as she pushed open the door of the adjoining +room.</p> + +<p>Here was a big desk with a high top and drop +lid, while there were rows upon rows of drawers +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +underneath. A wide-armed chair stood before the +desk, just as it must have been used by the old +doctor. The room was lined to the ceiling with +cases of books and cupboards. Nobody had disturbed +the doctor’s possessions after his death. +No younger physician had “taken over” his practice.</p> + +<p>’Phemie went near enough to see that the desk, +and the cupboards as well, were locked. There +was a long case standing like an overgrown clock-case +in one corner. The candle-light was reflected +in the front of this case as though the door was +a mirror.</p> + +<p>But when ’Phemie approached it she saw that +it was merely a glass door with a curtain of +black cambric hung behind it. She was curious +to know what was in the case. It had no lock +and key and she stretched forth a tentative hand +and turned the old-fashioned button which held +it closed.</p> + +<p>The door seemed fairly to spring open, as +though pushed from within, and, as it swung outward +and the flickering candle-light penetrated its +interior, ’Phemie heard a sudden surprising sound.</p> + +<p>Somewhere–behind her, above, below, in the +air, all about her–was a sigh! Nay, it was +more than a sigh; it was a mighty and unmistakable +yawn!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span>And on the heels of this yawn a voice exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“I’m getting mighty tired of this!”</p> + +<p>’Phemie flashed her gaze back to the open case. +Fear held her by the throat and choked back the +shriek she would have been glad to utter. For, +dangling there in the case, its eyeless skull on a +level with her own face, hung an articulated skeleton; +and to ’Phemie Bray’s excited comprehension +it seemed as though both the yawn and the apt +speech which followed it, had proceeded from the +grinning jaws of the skull!</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span><a id='link_9'></a>CHAPTER IX<br /><span class='h2fs'>MORNING AT HILLCREST</span></h2> + +<p>The bang of the door, closed by the draught +when ’Phemie had opened the way into the east +wing, <i>had</i> aroused Lyddy. She came to herself–to +a consciousness of her strange surroundings–with +a sharpness of apprehension that set +every nerve in her body to tingling.</p> + +<p>“’Phemie! what is it?” she whispered.</p> + +<p>Then, rolling over on the rustling straw mattress, +she reached for her sister’s hand. But +’Phemie was not there.</p> + +<p>“’Phemie!” Lyddy cried loudly, sitting +straight up in bed. She knew she was alone in +the room, and hopped out of bed, shivering. She +groped for her robe and her slippers. Then +she sped swiftly into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>She knew where the lamp and the match-box +were. Quickly she had the lamp a-light and then +swept the big room with a startled glance.</p> + +<p>’Phemie had disappeared. The outside door +was still locked. It seemed to Lyddy as though +the echoing slam of the door that had awakened +her was still ringing in her ears.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span>She ran to the hall door and opened it. Dark–and +not a sound!</p> + +<p>Where could ’Phemie have gone?</p> + +<p>The older sister had never known ’Phemie to +walk in her sleep. She had no tricks of somnambulism +that Lyddy knew anything about.</p> + +<p>And yet the older Bray girl was quite sure her +sister had come this way. The lamplight, when +the door was opened wide, illuminated the square +hall quite well. Lyddy ran across it and pushed +open the door of the long corridor.</p> + +<p>There was no light in it, yet she could see outlined +the huge pieces of furniture, and the ugly +chairs. And at the very moment she opened this +door, the door at the far end was flung wide and +a white figure plunged toward her.</p> + +<p>“’Phemie!” screamed the older sister.</p> + +<p>“Lyddy!” wailed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>And in a moment they were in each other’s +arms and Lyddy was dragging ’Phemie across the +entrance hall into the lighted kitchen.</p> + +<p>“What is it? What <i>is</i> it?” gasped Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh, oh!” was all ’Phemie was able to say +for the moment; then, as she realized how really +terrified her sister was, she continued her series +of “ohs” while she thought very quickly.</p> + +<p>She knew very well what had scared her; but +why add to Lyddy’s fright? She could not explain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span> +away the voice she had heard. Of course, +she knew very well it had <i>not</i> proceeded from the +skeleton. But why terrify Lyddy by saying anything +about that awful thing?</p> + +<p>“What scared you so?” repeated Lyddy, shaking +her a bit.</p> + +<p>“I–I don’t know,” stammered ’Phemie–and +she didn’t!</p> + +<p>“But why did you get up?”</p> + +<p>“I thought I heard something–voices–people +talking–steps,” gasped ’Phemie, and now her +teeth began to chatter so that she could scarcely +speak.</p> + +<p>“Foolish girl!” exclaimed Lyddy, rapidly recovering +her own self-control. “You dreamed +it. And now you’ve got a chill, wandering +through this old house. Here! sit down there!”</p> + +<p>She drove her into a low chair beside the +hearth. She ran for an extra comforter to wrap +around her. She raked the ashes off the coals of +the fire, and set the tea-kettle right down upon +the glowing bed.</p> + +<p>In a minute it began to steam and gurgle, and +Lyddy made her sister an old-fashioned brew of +ginger tea. When the younger girl had swallowed +half a bowlful of the scalding mixture she +ceased shaking. And by that time, too, she had +quite recovered her self-control.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span>“You’re a very foolish little girl,” declared +Lyddy, warningly, “to get up alone and go wandering +about this house. Why, <i>I</i> wouldn’t do it +for–for the whole farm!”</p> + +<p>“I–I dropped my candle. It went out,” said +’Phemie, quietly. “I guess being in the dark +scared me more than anything.”</p> + +<p>“Now, that’s enough. Forget it! We’ll go +to bed again and see if we can’t get some sleep. +Why! it’s past eleven.”</p> + +<p>So the sisters crept into bed again, and lay in +each other’s arms, whispering a bit and finally, +before either of them knew it, they were asleep. +And neither ghosts, nor whispering voices, nor +any other midnight sounds disturbed their slumbers +for the remainder of that first night at Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>They were awake betimes–and without the +help of the alarm clock. It was pretty cold in +the two rooms; but they threw kindling on the +coals and soon the flames were playing tag through +the interlacing sticks that ’Phemie heaped upon +the fire.</p> + +<p>The kettle was soon bubbling again, while +Lyddy mixed batter cakes. A little bed of live +coals was raked together in front of the main +fire and on this a well greased griddle was set, +where the cakes baked to a tender brown and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span> +were skillfully lifted off by ’Phemie and buttered +and sugared.</p> + +<p>What if a black coal or two <i>did</i> snap over the +cakes? And what if ’Phemie’s hair <i>did</i> get +smoked and “smelly?” Both girls declared +cooking before an open fire to be great fun. They +had yet, however, to learn a lot about “how our +foremothers cooked.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t for the life of me see how they ever +used that brick oven,” said Lyddy, pointing to +the door in the side of the chimney. “Surely, +that hole in the bricks would never heat from +<i>this</i> fire.”</p> + +<p>“Ask Lucas,” advised ’Phemie, and as though +in answer to that word, Lucas himself appeared, +bearing offerings of milk, eggs, and new bread.</p> + +<p>“Huh!” he said, in a gratified tone, sniffing +in the doorway. “I told maw you two +gals wouldn’t go hungry. Ye air a sight too +clever.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Lucas,” said Lyddy, demurely. +“Will you have a cup of tea!”</p> + +<p>“No’m. I’ve had my breakfast. It’s seven +now and I’ll go right t’ work cutting wood for +ye. That’s what ye’ll want most, I reckon. And +I want to git ye a pile ready, for it won’t be many +days before we start plowin’, an’ then dad won’t +hear to me workin’ away from home.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span>Lyddy went out of doors for a moment and +spoke to him from the porch.</p> + +<p>“Don’t do too much trimming in the orchard, +Lucas, till I have a look at the trees. I have a +book about the care of an old orchard, and perhaps +I can make something out of this one.”</p> + +<p>“Plenty of other wood handy, Miss Lyddy,” +declared the lanky young fellow. “And it’ll +be easier to split than apple and peach wood, +too.”</p> + +<p>’Phemie, meanwhile, had said she would run in +and find the candle she had dropped in her fright +the night before; but in truth it was more for the +purpose of seeing the east wing of the old house +by daylight–and that skeleton.</p> + +<p>“No need for Lyddy to come in here and have +a conniption fit, too,” thought the younger sister, +“through coming unexpectedly upon that Thing +in the case.</p> + +<p>“And, my gracious! he might just as well have +been the author of that mysterious speech I heard. +I should think he <i>would</i> be tired of staying shut +up in that box,” pursued the girl, giggling nervously, +as she stood before the open case in which +the horrid thing dangled.</p> + +<p>Light enough came through the cracks in the +closed shutters to reveal to her the rooms that the +old doctor had so long occupied.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span>’Phemie closed the skeleton case and picked up +her candle. Then she continued her investigation +of the suite to the third room. Here were +shelves and work-benches littered with a heterogeneous +collection of bottles, tubes, retorts, filters, +and other things of which ’Phemie did not even +know the names or uses.</p> + +<p>There was a door, too, that opened directly +into the back yard. But this door was locked +and double-bolted. She was sure that the person, +or persons, whom she had heard talking the +night before had not been in this room. When +she withdrew from the east wing she locked +the green-painted door as she had found it; but +in addition, she removed the key and hid it where +she was sure nobody but herself would be likely +to find it.</p> + +<p>Later she tackled Lucas.</p> + +<p>“I don’t suppose you–or any of your folks–were +up here last night, Lucas?” she asked the +young farmer, out of her sister’s hearing.</p> + +<p>“Me, Miss? I should say not!” replied the +surprised Lucas.</p> + +<p>“But I heard voices around the house.”</p> + +<p>“Do tell!” exclaimed he.</p> + +<p>“Who would be likely to come here at night?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I never heard the beat o’ that,” declared +Lucas. “No, ma’am!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span>“Sh! don’t let my sister hear,” whispered +’Phemie. “She heard nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Air you sure―” began Lucas, but at that +the young girl snapped him up quick enough:</p> + +<p>“I am confident I even heard some things they +said. They were men. It sounded as though +they spoke over there by the east wing–<i>or in the +cellar</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Ye don’t mean it!” exclaimed the wondering +Lucas, leading the way slowly to the cellar-hatch +just under the windows of the old doctor’s +workshop.</p> + +<p>This hatch was fastened by a big brass padlock.</p> + +<p>“Dad’s got the key to that,” said Lucas. “Jest +like I told you, we have stored vinegar in it, some. +Ain’t many barrels left at this time o’ year. Dad +sells off as he can during the winter.”</p> + +<p>“And, of course, your father didn’t come up +here last night?”</p> + +<p>“Shucks! O’ course not,” replied the young +farmer. “Ain’t no vinegar buyer around in this +neighborhood now–an’ ’specially not at night. +Dad ain’t much for goin’ out in the evenin’, nohow. +He does sit up an’ read arter we’re all +gone to bed sometimes. But it couldn’t be dad +you heard up here–no, Miss.”</p> + +<p>So the puzzle remained a puzzle. However, +the Bray girls had so much to do, and so much to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +think of that, after all, the mystery of the night +occupied a very small part of ’Phemie’s thought.</p> + +<p>Lyddy had something–and a very important +something, she thought–on her mind. It had +risen naturally out of the talk the girls had had +when they first went to bed the evening before. +’Phemie had wished for a houseful of company +to make Hillcrest less lonely; the older sister had +seized upon the idea as a practical suggestion.</p> + +<p>Why not fill the big house–if they could? +Why not enter the lists in the land-wide struggle +for summer boarders?</p> + +<p>Of course, if Aunt Jane would approve.</p> + +<p>First of all, however, Lyddy wanted to see the +house–the chambers upstairs especially; and she +proposed to her sister, when their morning’s work +was done, that they make a tour of discovery.</p> + +<p>“Lead on,” ’Phemie replied, eagerly. “I hope +we find a softer bed than that straw mattress–and +one that won’t tickle so! Aunt Jane said +we could do just as we pleased with things here; +didn’t she?”</p> + +<p>“Within reason,” agreed Lyddy. “And that’s +all very well up to a certain point, I fancy. But +I guess Aunt Jane doesn’t expect us to make use +of the whole house. We will probably find this +west wing roomy enough for our needs, even when +father comes.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span>They ventured first up the stairs leading to the +rooms in this wing. There were two nice ones +here and a wide hall with windows overlooking +the slope of the mountainside toward Bridleburg. +They could see for miles the winding road up +which they had climbed the day before.</p> + +<p>“Yes, this wing will do very nicely for <i>us</i>,” +Lyddy said, thinking aloud. “We can make that +room downstairs where we’re sleeping, our sitting-room +when it comes warm weather; and that will +give us all the rest of the house―”</p> + +<p>“All but the old doctor’s offices,” suggested +’Phemie, doubtfully. “There are three of +them.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” returned Lyddy, “three and four are +seven; and seven from twenty-two leaves fifteen. +Some of the first-floor rooms we’ll have to use +as dining and sitting-rooms for the boarders―”</p> + +<p>“My goodness me!” exclaimed her sister, +again breaking in upon her ruminations. “You’ve +got the house full of boarders already; have you? +What will Aunt Jane say?”</p> + +<p>“That we’ll find out. But there ought to be +at least twelve rooms to let. If there’s as much +furniture and stuff in all as there is in these―”</p> + +<p>“But how’ll we ever get the boarders? And +how’d we cook for ’em over that open fire? It’s +ridiculous!” declared ’Phemie.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span>“<i>That</i> is yet to be proved,” returned her sister, +unruffled.</p> + +<p>They pursued their investigation through the +second-floor rooms. There were eight of them +in the main part of the house and two in the east +wing over the old doctor’s offices. The last two +were only partially furnished and had been used +in their grandfather’s day more for “lumber +rooms” than aught else. It was evident that Dr. +Phelps had demanded quiet and freedom in his +own particular wing of Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>But the eight rooms in the main part of the +house on this second floor were all of good size, +well lighted, and completely furnished. Some +of them had probably not been slept in for fifty +years, for when the girls’ mother, and even Aunt +Jane, were young, Dr. Apollo Phelps’s immediate +family was not a large one.</p> + +<p>“The furniture is all old-fashioned, it is true,” +Lyddy said, reflectively. “There isn’t a metal +bed in the whole house―”</p> + +<p>“And I had just as lief sleep in a coffin as in +some of these high-headed carved walnut bedsteads,” +declared ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“You don’t have to sleep in them,” responded +her sister, quietly. “But some people would +think it a privilege to do so.”</p> + +<p>“They can have <i>my</i> share, and no charge,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +sniffed the younger girl. “That bed downstairs +is bad enough. And what would we do for mattresses? +That’s <i>one</i> antique they wouldn’t stand +for–believe me! Straw beds, indeed!”</p> + +<p>“We’ll see about that. We might get some +cheap elastic-felt mattresses, one at a time, as we +needed them.”</p> + +<p>“And springs?”</p> + +<p>“Some of the bedsteads are roped like the one +we sleep on. Others have old-fashioned spiral +springs–and there are no better made to-day. +The rust can be cleaned off and they can be +painted.”</p> + +<p>“I see plainly you’re laying out a lot of work +for us,” sighed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ve got to work to live,” responded +her sister, briskly.</p> + +<p>“Ya-as,” drawled ’Phemie, in imitation of +Lucas Pritchett. “But I don’t want to feel as +though I was just living to work!”</p> + +<p>“Lazybones!” laughed Lyddy. “You know, +if we really got started in this game―”</p> + +<p>“A game; is it? Keeping boarders!”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“I fancy it’s downright hard work,” quoth +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“But if it makes us independent? If it will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +keep poor father out of the shop? If it can be +made to support us?” cried Lyddy.</p> + +<p>’Phemie flushed suddenly and her eyes sparkled. +She seized her more sedate sister and danced her +about the room.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t care how hard I work if it’ll do +all that!” she agreed. “Come on, Lyd! Let’s +write to Aunt Jane right away.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span><a id='link_10'></a>CHAPTER X<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE VENTURE</span></h2> + +<p>But Lyddy Bray never made up her mind in +a hurry. Perhaps she was inclined to err on the +side of caution.</p> + +<p>Whereas ’Phemie eagerly accepted a new thing, +was enthusiastic about it for a time, and then tired +of it unless she got “her second wind,” as she +herself laughingly admitted, Lyddy would talk +over a project a long time before she really decided +to act upon it.</p> + +<p>It was so in this case. Once having seen the +vista of possibilities that Lyddy’s plan revealed, +the younger girl was eager to plunge into the +summer-boarder project at once. But Lyddy +was determined to know just what they had to +work with, and just what they would need, before +broaching the plan to Aunt Jane.</p> + +<p>So she insisted upon giving a more than cursory +examination to each of the eight chambers on this +second floor. Some of the pieces of old furniture +needed mending; but most of the mending could +be done with a pot of glue and a little ingenuity. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +Furthermore, a can of prepared varnish and some +linseed oil and alcohol would give most of the +well-made and age-darkened furniture the gloss it +needed.</p> + +<p>There were old-style stone-china toilet sets in +profusion, and plenty of mirrors, while there was +closet room galore. The main lack, as ’Phemie +had pointed out, was in the mattress line.</p> + +<p>But when the girls climbed to the garret floor +they found one finished room there–a very good +sleeping-room indeed–and on the bedstead in this +room were stacked, one on top of another, at least +a dozen feather beds.</p> + +<p>Each bed was wrapped in sheets of tarred paper–hermetically +sealed from moths or other insect life.</p> + +<p>“Oh, for goodness sake, Lyd!” cried ’Phemie, +“let’s take one of these to sleep on. There are +pillows, too; but we’ve got <i>them</i>. Say! we can +put one of these beds on top of the straw tick +and be in comfort at last.”</p> + +<p>“All right. But the feather bed would be +pretty warm for summer use,” sighed Lyddy, as +she helped her sister lift down one of the +beds–priceless treasures of the old-time housewife.</p> + +<p>“Country folk–some of them–sleep on +feathers the year ’round,” proclaimed ’Phemie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +“Perhaps your summer boarders can be educated +up to it–or <i>down</i> to it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll try the ‘down’ and see how it +works,” agreed Lyddy. “My! these feathers +are pressed as flat as a pancake. The bed must +go out into the sun and air and be tossed once +in a while, so that the air will get through it, +before there’ll be any ‘life’ in these feathers. +Now, don’t try to do it all, ’Phemie. I’ll help +you downstairs with it in a minute. I just want +to look into the big garret while we’re up here. +Dear me! isn’t it dusty?”</p> + +<p>Such an attractive-looking assortment of chests, +trunks, old presses, boxes, chests of drawers, decrepit +furniture, and the like as was set about that +garret! There was no end of old clothing hanging +from the rafters, too–a forest of garments +that would have delighted an old clo’ man; +but―</p> + +<p>“Oo! Oo! Ooo!” hooted ’Phemie. “Look +at the spider webs. Why, I wouldn’t touch those +things for the whole farm. I bet there are fat +old spiders up there as big as silver dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we can keep away from that corner,” +said Lyddy, with a shudder. “I don’t want old +coats and hats. But I wonder what <i>is</i> in those +drawers. We shall want bed linen if we go +into the business of keeping boarders.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span>She tried to open some of the nearest presses +and bureaus, but all were locked. So, rather +dusty and disheveled, they retired to the floor +below, between them managing to carry the +feather bed out upon the porch where the sun +could shine upon it.</p> + +<p>At noon Lyddy “buzzed” Lucas, as ’Phemie +called it, about the way folk in the neighborhood +cooked with an open fire, and especially about +the use of the brick oven that was built into the +side of the chimney.</p> + +<p>“That air contraption,” confessed the young +farmer, “ain’t much more real use than a fifth +leg on a caow–for a fac’. But old folks used +’em. My grandmaw did.</p> + +<p>“She useter shovel live coals inter the oven +an’ build a reg’lar fire on the oven bottom. Arter +it was het right up she’d sweep aout the brands +and ashes with long-handled brushes, an’ then set +the bread, an’ pies, an’ Injun puddin’ an’ the like–sometimes +the beanpot, too–on the oven floor. +Ye see, them bricks will hold heat a long time.</p> + +<p>“But lemme tell ye,” continued Lucas, shaking +his head, “it took the <i>know how</i>, I reckon, ter +bake stuff right by sech means. My maw never +could do it. She says either her bread would be +all crust, or ’twas raw in the middle.</p> + +<p>“But now,” pursued Lucas, “these ’ere what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +they call ‘Dutch ovens’ ain’t so bad. I kin remember +before dad bought maw the stove, she +used a Dutch oven–an’ she’s got it yet. I know +she’d lend it to you gals.”</p> + +<p>“That’s real nice of you, Lucas,” said ’Phemie, +briskly. “But what is it?”</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s a big sheet-iron pan with a tight +cover. You set it right in the coals and shovel +coals on top of it and all around it. Things bake +purty good in a Dutch oven–ya-as’m! Beans +never taste so good to my notion as they useter +when maw baked ’em in the old Dutch oven. An’ +dad says they was ’nough sight better when <i>he</i> +was a boy an’ grandmaw baked ’em in an oven +like that one there,” and Lucas nodded at the +closet in the chimney that ’Phemie had opened to +peer into.</p> + +<p>“Ye see, it’s the slow, steady heat that don’t +die down till mornin’–that’s what bakes beans +nice,” declared this Yankee epicure.</p> + +<p>Lucas had a “knack” with the axe, and he cut +and piled enough wood to last the girls at least +a fortnight. Lyddy felt as though she could not +afford to hire him more than that one day at +present; but he was going to town next day +and he promised to bring back a pump leather +and some few other necessities that the girls +needed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span>Before he went home Lucas got ’Phemie off to +one side and managed to stammer:</p> + +<p>“If you gals air scart–or the like o’ that–you +jest say so an’ I’ll keep watch around here +for a night or two, an’ see if I kin ketch the +fellers you heard talkin’ last night.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lucas! I wouldn’t trouble you for the +world,” returned ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>Lucas’s countenance was a wonderful lobster-like +red, and he was so bashful that his eyes fairly +watered.</p> + +<p>“’Twouldn’t be no trouble, Miss ’Phemie,” he +told her. “’Twould be a pleasure–it re’lly +would.”</p> + +<p>“But what would folks say?” gasped ’Phemie, +her eyes dancing. “What would your sister and +mother say?”</p> + +<p>“They needn’t know a thing about it,” declared +Lucas, eagerly. “I–I could slip out o’ +my winder an’ down the shed ruff, an’ sneak up +here with my shot-gun.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Mr. Pritchett! I believe you are in +the habit of doing such things. I am afraid you +get out that way often, and the family knows +nothing about it.”</p> + +<p>“Naw, I don’t–only circus days, an’ w’en the +Wild West show comes, an’–an’ Fourth of July +mornin’s. But don’t you tell; will yer?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span>“Cross my heart!” promised ’Phemie, giggling. +“But suppose you should shoot somebody around +here with that gun?”</p> + +<p>“Sarve ’em aout jest right!” declared the +young farmer, boldly. “B’sides, I’d only load +it with rock-salt. ’Twould pepper ’em some.”</p> + +<p>“Salt and pepper ’em, Lucas,” giggled the +girl. “And season ’em right, I expect, for breaking +our rest.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it!” declared Lucas.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you dare!” threatened ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Why–why―”</p> + +<p>Lucas was swamped in his own confusion again.</p> + +<p>“Not unless I tell you you may,” said ’Phemie, +smiling on him dazzlingly once more.</p> + +<p>“Wa-al.”</p> + +<p>“Wait and see if we are disturbed again,” +spoke the girl, more kindly. “I really am +obliged to you, Lucas; but I couldn’t hear of your +watching under our windows these cold nights–and, +of course, it wouldn’t be proper for us to +let you stay in the house.”</p> + +<p>“Wa-al,” agreed the disappointed youth. +“But if ye need me, ye’ll let me know?”</p> + +<p>“Sure pop!” she told him, and was only sorry +when he was gone that she could not tell Lyddy +all about it, and give her older sister “an imitation” +of Lucas as a cavalier.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span>The girls wrote the letter to Aunt Jane that +evening and the next morning they watched for +the rural mail-carrier, who came along the highroad, +past the end of their lane, before noon.</p> + +<p>He brought a letter from Aunt Jane for Lyddy, +and he was ready to stop and gossip with the +girls who had so recently come to Hillcrest Farm.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad to see some life about the old doctor’s +house again,” declared the man. “I can +remember Dr. Polly–everybody called him that–right +well. He was a queer customer some +ways–brusk, and sort of rough. But he was a +good deal like a chestnut burr. His outside was +his worst side. He didn’t have no soothing bedside +mannerisms; but if a feller was real <i>sick</i>, it +was a new lease of life to jest have the old doctor +come inter the room!”</p> + +<p>It made the girls happy and proud to have +people speak this way of their grandfather.</p> + +<p>“He warn’t a man who didn’t make enemies,” +ruminated the mail-carrier. “He was too strong +a man not to be well hated in certain quarters. +He warn’t pussy-footed. What he meant he said +out square and straight, an’ when he put his foot +down he put it down emphatic. Yes, sir!</p> + +<p>“But he had a sight more friends than enemies +when he died. And lots o’ folks that thought +they hated Dr. Polly could look back–when he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +was dead and gone–an’ see how he’d done ’em +many a kind turn unbeknownst to ’em at the time.</p> + +<p>“Why,” rambled on the mail-carrier, “I was +talkin’ to Jud Spink in Birch’s store only las’ +night. Jud ain’t been ’round here for some time +before, an’ suthin’ started talk about the old doctor. +Jud, of course, sailed inter him.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked ’Phemie, trying to appear interested, +while Lyddy swiftly read her letter.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I reckon you two gals–bein’ only granddaughters +of the old doctor–never heard much +about Jud Spink–Lemuel Judson Spink he calls +hisself now, an’ puts a ‘professor’ in front of his +name, too.”</p> + +<p>“Is he a professor?” asked ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“I dunno. He’s been a good many things. +Injun doctor–actor–medicine show fakir–patent +medicine pedlar; and now he owns ‘Diamond +Grits’–the greatest food on airth, <i>he</i> +claims, an’ I tell him it’s great all right, for man +<i>an’</i> beast!” and the mail-carrier went off into a +spasm of laughter over his own joke.</p> + +<p>“Diamond Grits is a breakfast food,” chuckled +’Phemie. “Do you s’pose horses would eat it, +too?”</p> + +<p>“Mine will,” said the mail-carrier. “Jud +sent me a case of Grits and I fed most of it to +this critter. Sassige an’ buckwheats satisfy me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +better of a mornin’, an’ I dunno as this hoss has +re’lly been in as good shape since I give it the +Grits.</p> + +<p>“Wa-al, Jud’s as rich as cream naow; but the +old doctor took him as a boy out o’ the poorhouse.”</p> + +<p>“And yet you say he talks against grandfather?” +asked ’Phemie, rather curious.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t it just like folks?” pursued the man, +shaking his head. “Yes, sir! Dr. Polly took +Jud Spink inter his fam’bly and might have made +suthin’ of him; but Jud ran away with a medicine +show―”</p> + +<p>“He’s made a rich man of himself, you say?” +questioned ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Ya-as,” admitted the mail-carrier. “But +everybody respected the old doctor, an’ nobody +respects Jud Spink–they respect his money.</p> + +<p>“Las’ night Jud says the old doctor was as +close as a clam with the lockjaw, an’ never let +go of a dollar till the eagle screamed for marcy. +But he done a sight more good than folks knowed +about–till after he died. An’ d’ye know the +most important clause in his will, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“In grandfather’s will?”</p> + +<p>“Ya-as. It was the instructions to his execketer +to give a receipted bill to ev’ry patient of his that +applied for the same, free gratis for nothin’! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +An’ lemme tell ye,” added the mail-carrier, preparing +to drive on again, “there was some folks +on both sides o’ this ridge that was down on the +old doctor’s books for sums they could never hope +to pay.”</p> + +<p>As he started off ’Phemie called after him, +brightly:</p> + +<p>“I’m obliged to you for telling me what you +have about grandfather.”</p> + +<p>“Beginning to get interested in neighborhood +gossip already; are you?” said her sister, when +’Phemie joined her, and they walked back up the +lane.</p> + +<p>“I believe I am getting interested in everything +folks can tell us about grandfather. In his way, +Lyddy, Dr. Apollo Phelps must have been a great +man.”</p> + +<p>“I–I always had an idea he was a little +<i>queer</i>,” confessed Lyddy. “His name you know, +and all―”</p> + +<p>“But people really <i>loved</i> him. He helped +them. He gave unostentatiously, and he must +have been a very, very good doctor. I–I wonder +what Aunt Jane meant by saying that grandfather +used to say there were curative waters on the +farm?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t the least idea,” replied Lyddy. +“Sulphur spring, perhaps–nasty stuff to drink. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +But listen here to what Aunt Jane says about +father.”</p> + +<p>“He’s better?” cried ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>The older girl’s tone was troubled. “I can’t +make out that he is,” she said, slowly, and then +she began to read Aunt Jane’s disjointed account +of her visit the day before to the hospital:</p> + +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>“I never <i>do</i> like to go to such places, girls; +they smell so of ether, and arniky, and collodion, +and a whole lot of other unpleasant things. I +wonder what makes drugs so nasty to smell of?</p> + +<p>“But, anyhow, I seen your father. John Bray +is a sick man. Maybe he don’t know it himself, +but the doctors know it, and you girls ought +to know it. I’m plain-spoken, and there isn’t +any use in making you believe he is on the +road to recovery when he’s going just the other +way.</p> + +<p>“This head-doctor here, says he has no chance +at all in the city. Of course, for me, if I was +sick with anything, from housemaid’s knee to +spinal mengetus, going into the country would +be my complete finish! But the doctors say it’s +different with your father.</p> + +<p>“And just as soon as John Bray can ride in a +railroad car, I am going to see that he joins you +at Hillcrest.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span>“Bully!” cried ’Phemie, the optimistic. “Oh, +Lyddy! he’s bound to get well up here.” For +this chanced to be a very beautiful spring day +and the girls were more than ever enamored of +the situation.</p> + +<p>“I am not so sure,” said Lyddy, slowly.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be a grump!” commanded her sister. +“He’s just <i>got</i> to get well up here.” But Lyddy +wondered afterward if ’Phemie believed what she +said herself!</p> + +<p>They finished cleaning thoroughly the two +rooms they were at present occupying and began on +the chambers above. Dust and the hateful spiderwebs +certainly had collected in the years the house +had been unoccupied; but the Bray girls were not +afraid of hard work. Indeed, they enjoyed it.</p> + +<p>Toward evening Lucas and his sister appeared, +and the former set to work to repair the old pump +on the porch, while Sairy sat down to “visit” +with the girls of Hillcrest Farm.</p> + +<p>“It’s goin’ to be nice havin’ you here, I declare,” +said Miss Pritchett, who had arranged two +curls on either side of her forehead, which shook +in a very kittenish manner when she laughed and +bridled.</p> + +<p>“I guess, as maw says, I’m too much with old +folks. Fust I know they’ll be puttin’ me away +in the Home for Indignant Old Maids over there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +to Adams–though why ‘indignant’ I can’t for +the life of me guess, ’nless it’s because they’re +indignant over the men’s passin’ of ’em by!” and +Miss Pritchett giggled and shook her curls, to +’Phemie’s vast amusement.</p> + +<p>Indeed, the younger Bray girl confessed to her +sister, after the visitors had gone, that Sairy was +more fun than Lucas.</p> + +<p>“But I’m afraid she’s far on the way to the +Home for Indigent Spinsters, and doesn’t know +it,” chuckled ’Phemie. “What a freak she is!”</p> + +<p>“That’s what you called Lucas–at first,” admonished +Lyddy. “And they’re both real kind. +Lucas wouldn’t take a cent for mending the pump, +and Sairy came especially to invite us to the Temperance +Club meeting, at the schoolhouse Saturday +night, and to go to church in their carriage +with her and her mother on Sunday.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I suppose they <i>are</i> kind,” admitted ’Phemie. +“And they can’t help being funny.”</p> + +<p>“Besides,” said the wise Lyddy, “if we <i>do</i> try +to take boarders we’ll need Lucas’s help. We’ll +have to hire him to go back and forth to town +for us, and depend on him for the outside +chores. Why! we’d be like two marooned sailors +on a desert island, up here on Hillcrest, if it +wasn’t for Lucas Pritchett!”</p> + +<p>The girls spent a few anxious days waiting for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +Aunt Jane’s answer. And meantime they discussed +the project of taking boarders from all +its various angles.</p> + +<p>“Of course, we can’t get boarders yet awhile,” +sighed ’Phemie. “It’s much too early in the +season.”</p> + +<p>“Why is it? Aren’t <i>we</i> glad to be here at +Hillcrest?” demanded Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“But see what sort of a place we lived in,” +said her sister.</p> + +<p>“And lots of other people live hived up in +the cities just as close, only in better houses. +There isn’t much difference between apartment-houses +and tenement-houses except the front entrance!”</p> + +<p>“That may be epigrammatical,” chuckled ’Phemie, +“but you couldn’t make many folks admit +it.”</p> + +<p>“Just the same, there are people who need just +this climate we’ve got here at this time of year. +It will do them as much good as it will father.”</p> + +<p>“You’d make a regular sanitarium of Hillcrest,” +cried ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Well, why not?” retorted Lyddy. “I guess +the neighbors wouldn’t object.”</p> + +<p>’Phemie giggled. “Advertise to take folks +back to old-fashioned times and old-fashioned +cooking.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“Sleeping on feather beds; cooking in a brick +oven like our great-great-grandmothers used to +do! Open fireplaces. Great!”</p> + +<p>“Plain, wholesome food. They won’t have +to eat out of cans. No extras or luxuries. We +could afford to take them cheap,” concluded +Lyddy, earnestly. “And we’ll get a big garden +planted and feed ’em on vegetables through the +summer.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lyddy, it <i>sounds</i> good,” sighed ’Phemie. +“But do you suppose Aunt Jane will consent to +it?”</p> + +<p>They received Aunt Jane’s letter in reply to +their own, on Saturday.</p> + +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>“You two girls go ahead and do what you +please inside or outside Hillcrest,” she wrote, +“only don’t disturb the old doctor’s stuff in the +lower rooms of the east ell. As long as you +don’t burn the house down I don’t see that you +can do any harm. And if you really think you +can find folks foolish enough to want to live up +there on the ridge, six miles from a lemon, why +go ahead and do it. But I tell you frankly, +girls, I’d want to be paid for doing it, and paid +high!”</p> + +<p>Then the kind, if brusk, old lady went on to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +tell them where to find many things packed away +that they would need if they <i>did</i> succeed in getting +boarders, including stores of linen, and +blankets, and the like, as well as some good china +and old silver, buried in one of the great chests +in the attic.</p> + +<p>However, nothing Aunt Jane could write could +quench the girls’ enthusiasm. Already Lyddy +and ’Phemie had written an advertisement for the +city papers, and five dollars of Lyddy’s fast shrinking +capital was to be set aside for putting their +desires before the newspaper-reading public.</p> + +<p>They could feel then that their new venture was +really launched.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span><a id='link_11'></a>CHAPTER XI<br /><span class='h2fs'>AT THE SCHOOLHOUSE</span></h2> + +<p>It was scarcely dusk on Saturday when Lucas +drove into the side yard at Hillcrest with the +ponies hitched to a double-seated buckboard. Entertainments +begin early in the rural districts.</p> + +<p>The ponies had been clipped and looked less like +animated cowhide trunks than they had when the +Bray girls had first seen them and their young +master in Bridleburg.</p> + +<p>“School teacher came along an’ maw made +Sairy go with him in his buggy,” exclaimed Lucas, +with a broad grin. “If Sairy don’t ketch a feller +’fore long, an’ clamp to him, ’twon’t be maw’s +fault.”</p> + +<p>Lucas was evidently much impressed by the appearance +of Lyddy and ’Phemie when they locked +the side door and climbed into the buckboard. +Because of their mother’s recent death the girls +had dressed very quietly; but their black frocks +were now very shabby, it was coming warmer +weather, and the only dresses they owned which +were fit to wear to an evening function of any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +kind were those that they had worn “for best” +the year previous.</p> + +<p>But the two girls from the city had no idea +they would create such a sensation as they did +when Lucas pulled in the ponies with a flourish +and stopped directly before the door of the schoolhouse.</p> + +<p>The building was already lighted up and there +was quite an assemblage of young men and boys +about the two front entrances. On the girls’ +porch, too, a number of the feminine members +of the Temperance Club were grouped, and with +them Sairy Pritchett.</p> + +<p>Her own arrival with the schoolmaster had +been an effective one and she had waited with the +other girls to welcome the newcomers from Hillcrest +Farm, and introduce them to her more particular +friends.</p> + +<p>But the Bray girls looked as though they were +from another sphere. Not that their frocks were +so fanciful in either design or material; but there +was a style about them that made the finery of +the other girls look both cheap and tawdry.</p> + +<p>“So <i>them</i> stuck-up things air goin’ to live +’round here; be they?” whispered one rosy-cheeked, +buxom farmer’s daughter to Sairy +Pritchett–and her whisper carried far. “Well, +I tell you right now I don’t like their looks. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +See that Joe Badger; will you? He’s got to help +’em down out o’ Lucas’s waggin’; has he? Well, +I declare!”</p> + +<p>“An’ Hen Jackson, too!” cried another girl, +shrilly. “They’d let airy one of us girls fall out +on our heads.”</p> + +<p>“Huh!” said Sairy, airily, “if you can’t keep +Joe an’ Hen from shinin’ around every new gal +that comes to the club, I guess you ain’t caught +’em very fast.”</p> + +<p>“He, he!” giggled another. “Sairy thinks +she’s hooked the school teacher all right, and that +he won’t get away from her.”</p> + +<p>“Cat!” snapped Miss Pritchett, descending +the steps in her most stately manner to meet her +new friends.</p> + +<p>“Cat yourself!” returned the other. “I +guess you’ll show your claws, Miss, if you have a +chance.”</p> + +<p>Perhaps Sairy did not hear all of this; and +surely the Bray girls did not. Sairy Pritchett was +rather proud of counting these city girls as her +particular friends. She welcomed Lydia and +Euphemia warmly.</p> + +<p>“I hope Lucas didn’t try to tip you into the +brook again, Miss Bray,” Sairy giggled to ’Phemie. +“Oh, yes! Miss Lydia Bray, Mr. +Badger; Mr. Jackson, Miss Bray. And this is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +Miss Euphemia, Mr. Badger–<i>and</i> Mr. Jackson.</p> + +<p>“Now, that’ll do very well, Joe–and Hen. +You go ’tend to your own girls; we can git on +without you.”</p> + +<p>Sairy deliberately led the newcomers into the +schoolhouse by the boys’ entrance, thus ignoring +the girls who had roused her ire. She introduced +Lyddy and ’Phemie right and left to such of the +young fellows as were not too bashful.</p> + +<p>Sairy suddenly arrived at the conclusion that to +pilot the sisters from Hillcrest about would be +“good business.” The newcomers attracted the +better class of young bachelors at the club meeting +and Sairy–heretofore something of a “wall +flower” on such occasions–found herself the very +centre of the group.</p> + +<p>Lyddy and ’Phemie were naturally a little disturbed +by the prominent position in which they +were placed by Sairy’s manœuvring; but, of +course, the sisters had been used to going into +society, and Lyddy’s experience at college and her +natural sedateness of character enabled her to appear +to advantage. As for the younger girl, +she was so much amused by Sairy, and the others, +that she quite forgot to feel confused.</p> + +<p>Indeed, she found that just by looking at most +of these young men, and smiling, she could throw +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span> +them into spasms of self-consciousness. They +were almost as bad as Lucas Pritchett, and Lucas +was getting to be such a good friend now that +’Phemie couldn’t really enjoy making him feel unhappy.</p> + +<p>She was, indeed, particularly nice to him when +young Pritchett struggled to her side after the +girls were settled in adjoining seats, half-way up +the aisle on the “girls’ side” of the schoolroom.</p> + +<p>These young girls and fellows had–most of +them–attended the district school, or were now +attending it; therefore, they were used to being +divided according to the sexes, and those boys +who actually had not accompanied their girlfriends +to the club meeting, sat by themselves on +the boys’ side, while the girls grouped together +on the other side of the house.</p> + +<p>There were a few young married couples present, +and these matrons made their husbands sit +beside them during the exercises; but for a young +man and young girl to sit together was almost a +formal announcement in that community that they +“had intentions!”</p> + +<p>All this was quite unsuspected by Lyddy and +’Phemie Bray, and the latter had no idea of the +joy that possessed Lucas Pritchett’s soul when she +allowed him to take the seat beside her.</p> + +<p>Her sister sat at her other hand, and Sairy was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +beyond Lyddy. No other young fellow could +get within touch of the city girls, therefore, although +there was doubtless many a swain who +would have been glad to do so.</p> + +<p>This club, the fundamental idea of which was +“temperance,” had gradually developed into +something much broader. While it still demanded +a pledge from its members regarding +abstinence from alcoholic beverages, including the +bane of the countryside–hard cider–its semimonthly +meetings were mainly of a literary and +musical nature.</p> + +<p>The reigning school teacher for the current term +was supposed to take the lead in governing the +club and pushing forward the local talent. Mr. +Somers was the name of the young man with +the bald brow and the eyeglasses, who was presiding +over the welfare of Pounder’s District +School. The Bray girls thought he seemed to be +an intelligent and well-mannered young man, if +a trifle self-conscious.</p> + +<p>And he evidently had an element that was difficult +to handle.</p> + +<p>Soon after the meeting was called to order it +became plain that a group of boys down in the +corner by the desk were much more noisy than +was necessary.</p> + +<p>The huge stove, by which the room was overheated, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span> +was down there, its smoke-pipe crossing, +in a L-shaped figure, the entire room to the chimney +at one side, and it did seem as though none +of those boys could move without kicking their +boots against this stove.</p> + +<p>These uncouth noises interfered with the opening +address of the teacher and punctuated the +“roll call” by the secretary, who was a small, +almost dwarf-like young man, out of whose mouth +rolled the names of the members in a voice that +fairly shook the casements. Such a thunderous +tone from so puny a source was in itself amazing, +and convulsed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t he got a great voice?” asked Lucas, +in a whisper. “He sings bass in the church choir +and sometimes, begum! ye can’t hear nawthin’ but +Elbert Hooker holler.”</p> + +<p>“Is <i>that</i> his name?” gasped ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Yep. Elbert Hooker. ‘Yell-bert’ the boys +call him. He kin sure holler like a bull!”</p> + +<p>And at that very moment, as the bombastic Elbert +was subsiding and the window panes ceased +from rattling with the reverberations of his voice, +one of the boys in the corner fell more heavily +than before against the stove–or, it might have +been Elbert Hooker’s tones had shaken loose the +joints of stovepipe that crossed the schoolroom; +however, there was a yell from those down front, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +the girls scrambled out of the way, the smoke +began to spurt from between the joints, and it +was seen that only the wires fastened to the ceiling +kept the soot-laden lengths of pipe from falling +to the floor.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span><a id='link_12'></a>CHAPTER XII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER</span></h2> + +<p>The soot began sifting down in little clouds; +but the sections of pipe had come apart so gently +that no great damage was done immediately. The +girls sitting under the pipe, however, were thrown +into a panic, and fairly climbed over the desks +and seats to get out of the way.</p> + +<p>Besides, considerable smoke began to issue from +the stove. One of the young scamps to whose +mischievousness was due this incident, had thrown +into the fire, just as the pipe broke loose, some +woolen garment, or the like, and it now began +to smoulder with a stench and an amount of smoke +that frightened some of the audience.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you be skeert none,” exclaimed Lucas, +to ’Phemie and her sister, and jumping up from +his seat himself. “’Taint nothin’ but them Buckley +boys and Ike Hewlett. Little scamps―”</p> + +<p>“But we don’t want to get soot all over us, +Lucas!” cried his sister.</p> + +<p>“Or be choked by smoke,” coughed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>There was indeed a great hullabaloo for a time; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span> +but the windows were opened, the teacher rescued +the burning woolen rag from the fire with the +tongs and threw it out of the window, and several +of the bigger fellows swooped down upon the +malicious youngsters and bundled them out of the +schoolhouse in a hurry–and in no gentle manner–while +others, including Lucas, stripped off +their coats and set to work to repair the stovepipe.</p> + +<p>An hour was lost in repairs and airing the +schoolhouse, and then everybody trooped back. +Meanwhile, the Bray girls had made many acquaintances +among the young folk.</p> + +<p>Mr. Somers, the teacher, was plainly delighted +to meet Lyddy–a girl who had actually spent two +years at Littleburg. He was seminary-bred himself, +with an idea of going back to take the divinity +course after he had taught a couple of years.</p> + +<p>But it suddenly became apparent to ’Phemie–who +was observant–that Sairy looked upon this +interest of the school teacher in Lyddy with “a +green eye.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Somers, who allowed the boys and young +men to repair the damage created by his pupils +while he rested from his labors, sat by Lyddy all +the time until the meeting was called to order +once more.</p> + +<p>Sairy, who had begun by bridling and looking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +askance at the two who talked so easily about +things with which she was not conversant, soon +tossed her head and began to talk with others who +gathered around. And when Mr. Somers went +to the desk to preside again Sairy was not sitting +in the same row with the Bray girls and left them +to their own devices for the rest of the evening.</p> + +<p>Lucas, the faithful, came back to ’Phemie’s +side, however. Some of the other girls were +laughing at Sairy Pritchett and their taunts fed her +ire with fresh fuel.</p> + +<p>She talked very loud and laughed very much +between the numbers of the program, and indeed +was not always quiet while the entertainment itself +was in progress. This she did as though to show +the company in general that she neither cared for +the schoolmaster’s attentions nor that she considered +her friendship with the Bray girls of any +importance.</p> + +<p>Of course, the girls with whom she had wrangled +on the schoolhouse steps were delighted with +what they considered Sairy’s “let-down.” If a +girl really came to an evening party with a young +man, he was supposed to “stick” and to show +interest in no other girl during the evening.</p> + +<p>When the intermission came Mr. Somers deliberately +took a seat again beside Lyddy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span>“Well, I never!” shrilled Sairy. “Some +folks are as bold as brass. Humph!”</p> + +<p>Now, as it happened, both Lyddy and the +school teacher were quite ignorant of the stir they +were creating. The green-eyed monster roared +right in their ears without either of them being +the wiser. Lyddy was only sorry that Sairy +Pritchett proved to be such a loud-talking and +rather unladylike person.</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie, who was younger, and observant, +soon saw what was the matter. She wished to +warn Lyddy, but did not know how to do so. +And, of course, she knew her sister and the +school teacher were talking of quite impersonal +things.</p> + +<p>These girls expected everybody to be of their +own calibre. ’Phemie had seen the same class of +girls in her experience in the millinery shop. But +it was quite impossible for Lyddy to understand +such people, her experience with young girls at +school and college not having prepared her for +the outlook on life which these country girls +had.</p> + +<p>’Phemie turned to Lucas–who stuck to her like +a limpet to a rock–for help.</p> + +<p>“Lucas,” she said, “you have been very kind +to bring us here; but I want to ask you to take +us home early; will you?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span>“What’s the matter–ye ain’t sick; be you?” +demanded the anxious young farmer.</p> + +<p>“No. But your sister is,” said ’Phemie, unable +to treat the matter with entire seriousness.</p> + +<p>“Sairy?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with <i>her</i>?” grunted Lucas.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you <i>see</i>?” exclaimed ’Phemie, in an +undertone.</p> + +<p>“By cracky!” laughed Lucas. “Ye mean +because teacher’s forgot she’s on airth?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” snapped ’Phemie. “You know Lyddy +doesn’t care anything about that Mr. Somers. +But she has to be polite.”</p> + +<p>“Why–why―”</p> + +<p>“Will you take us home ahead of them all?” +demanded the girl. “Then your sister can have +the schoolmaster.”</p> + +<p>“By cracky! is that it?” queried Lucas. +“Why–if you say so. I’ll do just like you want +me to, Miss ’Phemie.”</p> + +<p>“You are a good boy, Lucas–and I hope you +won’t be silly,” said ’Phemie. “We like you, +but we have been brought up to have boy friends +who don’t play at being grown up,” added ’Phemie, +as earnestly as she had ever spoken in her +life. “We like to have <i>friends</i>, not <i>beaux</i>. +Won’t you be our friend, Lucas?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span>She said this so low that nobody else could +hear it but young Pritchett; but so emphatically +that the tears came to her eyes. Lucas gaped +at her for a moment; then he seemed to understand.</p> + +<p>“I get yer, ’Phemie,” he declared, with emphasis, +“an’ you kin bank on me. Sairy’s foolish–maw’s +made her so, I s’pose. But I ain’t as +big a fool as I look.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t look like a fool, Lucas,” said +’Phemie, faintly.</p> + +<p>“You’ve been brought up different from us +folks,” pursued the young farmer. “And I can +see that we look mighty silly to you gals from the +city. But I’ll play fair. You let me be your +friend, ’Phemie.”</p> + +<p>The young girl had to wink hard to keep back +the tears. There was “good stuff” in this young +farmer, and she was sorry she had ever–even in +secret–made fun of him.</p> + +<p>“Lucas, you are a good boy,” she repeated, +“and we both like you. You’ll get us away from +here and let Sairy have her chance at the schoolmaster?”</p> + +<p>“You bet!” he said. “Though I don’t care +about Sairy. She’s old enough to know better,” +he added, with the usual brother’s callousness regarding +his sister.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span>“She feels neglected and will naturally be mad +at Lyddy,” ’Phemie said. “But if we slip out +during some recitation or song, it won’t be noticed +much.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” agreed Lucas. “I’ll go out ahead +and unhitch the ponies and get their blankets off. +You gals can come along in about five minutes. +Now! Mayme Lowry is going to read the ‘Club +Chronicles’–that’s a sort of history of neighborhood +doin’s since the last meetin’. She hits on +most ev’rybody, and they will all wanter hear. +We’ll git aout quiet like.”</p> + +<p>So, when Miss Lowry arose to read her manuscript, +Lucas left his seat and ’Phemie whispered +to Lyddy:</p> + +<p>“Get your coat, dear. I want to go home. +Lucas has gone out to get the team.”</p> + +<p>“Why–what’s the matter, child?” demanded +the older sister, anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Nothing. Only I want to go.”</p> + +<p>“We-ell–if you must―”</p> + +<p>“Don’t say anything more, but come on,” commanded +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>They arose together and tiptoed out. If Sairy +saw them she made no sign, nor did anybody bar +their escape.</p> + +<p>Lucas had got his team into the road. “Here +ye be!” he said, cheerfully.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span>“But–but how about Sairy?” cried the puzzled +Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, she’ll ride home with the school teacher,” +declared Lucas, chuckling.</p> + +<p>“But I really am surprised at you, ’Phemie,” +said the older sister. “It seems rather discourteous +to leave before the entertainment was +over–unless you are ill?”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry,” said the younger girl, demurely. +“But I got <i>so</i> nervous.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” whispered Lyddy. “Some of those +awful recitations <i>were</i> trying.”</p> + +<p>And ’Phemie had to giggle at that; but she +made no further explanation.</p> + +<p>The ponies drew them swiftly over the mountain +road and under the white light of a misty +moon they quickly turned into the lane +leading to Hillcrest. As the team dropped to a +walk, ’Phemie suddenly leaned forward and +clutched the driver’s arm.</p> + +<p>“Look yonder, Lucas!” she whispered. +“There, by the corner of the house.”</p> + +<p>“Whoa!” muttered Lucas, and brought the +horses to a halt.</p> + +<p>The girls and Lucas all saw the two figures. +They wavered for a moment and then one hurried +behind the high stone wall between the yard and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span> +the old orchard. The other crossed the front +yard boldly toward the highroad.</p> + +<p>“They came from the direction of the east +wing,” whispered ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Who do you suppose they are?” asked Lyddy, +more placidly. “Somebody who tried to call on +us?”</p> + +<p>“That there feller,” said Lucas, slowly, his +voice shaking oddly, as he pointed with his whip +after the man who just then gained the highroad, +“that there feller is Lem Judson Spink–I know +his long hair and broad-brimmed hat.”</p> + +<p>“What?” cried ’Phemie. “The man who +lived here at Hillcrest when he was a boy?”</p> + +<p>“So they say,” admitted Lucas. “Dad knew +him. They went to school together. He’s a +rich man now.”</p> + +<p>“But what could he possibly want up here?” +queried Lyddy, as the ponies went on. “And +who was the other man?”</p> + +<p>“I–I dunno who he was,” blurted out Lucas, +still much disturbed in voice and appearance.</p> + +<p>But after the girls had disembarked, and bidden +Lucas good night, and the young farmer had +driven away, ’Phemie said to her sister, as the +latter was unlocking the door of the farmhouse:</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> know who that other man was.”</p> + +<p>“What other man?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span>“The one who ran behind the stone wall.”</p> + +<p>“Why, who was it, ’Phemie?” queried her +sister, with revived interest.</p> + +<p>“Cyrus Pritchett,” stated ’Phemie, with conviction, +and nothing her sister could say would +shake her belief in that fact.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span><a id='link_13'></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>LYDDY DOESN’T WANT IT</span></h2> + +<p>“Who is this Mr. Spink?” asked Lydia Bray +the following morning, as they prepared for +church.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful spring morning. There +had been a pattering shower at sunrise and the +eaves were still dripping, while every blade of the +freshly springing grass in the side yard–which +was directly beneath the girls’ window–sparkled +as though diamond-decked over night.</p> + +<p>The old trees in the orchard were pushing both +leaf and blossom–especially the plum and peach +trees. In the distance other orchards were blowing, +too, and that spattered the mountainside with +patches of what looked to be pale pink mist.</p> + +<p>The faint tinkling of the sheep-bells came +across the hills to the ears of Lyddy and ’Phemie. +The girls were continually going to the window +or door to watch the vast panorama of the mountainside +and valley, spread below them.</p> + +<p>“Who <i>is</i> this Mr. Spink?” repeated Lyddy.</p> + +<p>Her sister explained what she knew of the man +who–once a poorhouse boy–was now counted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +a rich man and the proprietor of Diamond Grits, +the popular breakfast food.</p> + +<p>“He lived here at Hillcrest as a boy, with +grandfather,” ’Phemie said.</p> + +<p>“But what’s <i>that</i> got to do with his coming up +here now–and at night?”</p> + +<p>“And with Mr. Pritchett?” finished ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I am going to ask Mr. Pritchett about +it. They surely weren’t after vinegar so late at +night,” Lyddy observed.</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie did not prolong the discussion. +In her secret thoughts the younger Bray girl believed +that it was Cyrus Pritchett and Mr. Spink +whom she had heard about the old house the +night she and Lyddy had first slept at Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>There was no use worrying Lyddy about it, +she told herself.</p> + +<p>A little later the roan ponies appeared with +the Pritchett buckboard. Instead of Mrs. Pritchett +and her daughter, however, the good lady’s +companion on the front seat was Lucas, who +drove.</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me!” cried Lyddy. “I hope we +haven’t turned Miss Pritchett out of her seat. +Surely we three girls could have squeezed in here +on the back seat.”</p> + +<p>“Nope,” said Mrs. Pritchett. “That ain’t it, +at all. Sairy ain’t goin’ to church this mornin’.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span>“She’s not ill?” asked Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“I dunno. She ain’t got no misery as I can +find out; but she sartainly has a grouch! A bear +with a sore head in fly time would be a smilin’ +work of Grace ’side of Sairy Pritchett ever since +she come home from the Temperance Club las’ +night.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” came from ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Why―She surely isn’t angry because we +went home early?” cried Lyddy. “My sister, +you see, got nervous―”</p> + +<p>“I reckon ’taint that,” Lucas hastened to say. +“More likely she’s sore on me.”</p> + +<p>“’Tain’t nawthin’ of the kind, an’ you know +it, Lucas,” declared his mother. “Though ye +might have driven ’round by the schoolhouse ag’in +and brought her home.”</p> + +<p>“Wal, I thought she’d ride back with school +teacher. She went with him,” returned Lucas, +on the defensive.</p> + +<p>“She walked home,” said Mrs. Pritchett, +shortly. “I dunno why. She won’t tell <i>me</i>.”</p> + +<p>“I hope she isn’t ill,” remarked the unconscious +Lyddy.</p> + +<p>But Lucas cast a knowing look over his +shoulder at ’Phemie and the latter had hard work +to keep her own countenance straight.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Mrs. Pritchett, more briskly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span> +“ye can’t always sometimes tell what the matter +is with these young gals. They gits crotchets in +their heads.”</p> + +<p>She kept up the fiction that Sairy was a young +and flighty miss; but even ’Phemie could no longer +laugh at her for it. It was the mother’s pitiful +attempt to aid her daughter’s chances for that +greatly-to-be-desired condition–matrimony.</p> + +<p>The roads were still muddy; nevertheless the +drive over the ridge to Cornell Chapel was lovely. +For some time the girls had been noting the +procession of carriages and wagons winding over +the mountain roads, all verging upon this main +trail over the ridge which passed so close to Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>Lucas, driving the ponies at a good clip, joined +the procession. Lyddy and ’Phemie recognized +several of the young people they had met the +night before at the Temperance Club–notably +the young men.</p> + +<p>Joe Badger flashed by in a red-wheeled buggy +and beside him sat the buxom, red-faced girl who +had voiced her distaste for the city-bred newcomers +right at the start. Badger bowed with a flourish; +but his companion’s nose was in the air.</p> + +<p>“I never did think that Nettie Meyers had +very good manners,” announced Mrs. Pritchett.</p> + +<p>They overtook the schoolmaster jogging along +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span> +behind his old gray mare. He, likewise, bowed +profoundly to the Bray girls.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid you did not enjoy yourself last +night at the club, Miss Bray,” he said to Lyddy, +who was on his side of the buckboard, as Lucas +pulled out to pass him. “You went home so +early. I was looking for you after it was all +over.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but you are mistaken,” declared Lyddy, +pleasantly. “I had a very nice time.”</p> + +<p>As they drove on Mrs. Pritchett’s fat face +became a study.</p> + +<p>“And he never even asked arter Sairy!” she +gasped. “And he let her come home alone last +night. Humph! he must ha’ been busy huntin’ +for <i>you</i>, Miss Bray.”</p> + +<p>Lucas cast oil on the troubled waters by saying:</p> + +<p>“An’ I carried Miss Lyddy and Miss ’Phemie +away from all of ’em. I guess <i>all</i> the Pritchetts +ain’t so slow, Maw.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! Wa-al,” admitted the good lady, +somewhat mollified, “you <i>hev</i> seemed to ’woke +up lately, Lucas.”</p> + +<p>The chapel was built of graystone and its north +wall was entirely covered with ivy. It nestled +in a grove of evergreens, with the tidy fenced +graveyard behind it. The visitors thought it a +very beautiful place.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span>Everybody was rustling into church when they +arrived, so there were no introductions then. The +pastor was a stooped, gray old man, who had been +the incumbent for many years, and to the Bray +girls his discourse seemed as helpful as any they +had ever heard.</p> + +<p>After service the girls of Hillcrest Farm were +introduced to many of the congregation by Mrs. +Pritchett. Naturally these were the middle-aged, +or older, members of the flock–mostly ladies +who knew, or remembered, the girls’ mother and +Aunt Jane. Indeed, it was rather noticeable that +the young women and girls did not come forward +to meet Lyddy and ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>Not that either of the sisters cared. They +liked the matrons who attended Cornell Chapel +much better than they had most of the youthful +members of the Temperance Club.</p> + +<p>Some of the young men waited their chance in +the vestibule to get a bow and a smile of recognition +from the newcomers; but only the schoolmaster +dared attach himself for any length of +time to the Pritchett party.</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Pritchett could not fail to take note +of this at length. The teacher was deep in some +unimportant discussion with Lyddy, who was +sweetly unconscious that she was fanning the fire +of suspicion in Mrs. Pritchett’s breast.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span>That lady finally broke in with a loud “Ahem!” +following it with: “I re’lly don’t know what’s +happened to my Sairy. She’s right poorly to-day, +Mr. Somers.”</p> + +<p>“Why–I–I’m sorry to hear it,” said the +startled, yet quite unsuspicious teacher. “She +seemed to be in good health and spirits when we +were on our way to the club meeting last +evening.”</p> + +<p>“Ya-as,” agreed Mrs. Pritchett, simpering and +looking at him sideways. “She seems to have +changed since then. She ain’t been herself since +she walked home from the meeting.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps she has a cold?” suggested the +teacher, blandly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Sairy is not subject to colds,” declared +Mrs. Pritchett. “But she is easily chilled in +other ways–yes, indeed! I don’t suppose there +is a more sensitive young girl on the ridge than +my Sairy.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Somers began to wake up to the fact that +the farmer’s wife was not shooting idly at him; +there was “something behind it!”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry if Miss Sairy is offended, or has +been hurt in any way,” he said, gravely. “It +was a pity she had to walk home from the club. +If I had known―”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span>“Wa-al,” drawled Mrs. Pritchett, “<i>you</i> took +her there yourself in your buggy.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” he exclaimed, flushing a little. “I +had no idea that bound me to the necessity of +taking her home again. Her brother was there +with your carriage. I am sure I do not understand +your meaning, Mrs. Pritchett.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t mean anything!” exclaimed the +lady, but very red in the face now, and her bonnet +shaking. “Come, gals! we must be going.”</p> + +<p>Both Lyddy and ’Phemie had begun to feel +rather unhappy by this time. Mrs. Pritchett +swept them up the aisle ahead of her as though +she were shooing a flock of chickens with her +ample skirts.</p> + +<p>They went through the vestibule with a rush. +Lucas was ready with the ponies. Mrs. Pritchett +was evidently very angry over her encounter with +the teacher; and she could not fail to hold the +Bray girls somewhat accountable for her daughter’s +failure to keep the interest of Mr. Somers.</p> + +<p>She said but little on the drive homeward. +There had been something said earlier about the +girls going down to the Pritchett farm for dinner; +but the angry lady said nothing more about it, +and Lyddy and ’Phemie were rather glad when +Hillcrest came into view.</p> + +<p>“Ye better stop in an’ go along down to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +house with us,” said the good-natured Lucas, hesitating +about turning the ponies’ heads in at the +lane.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we could not possibly,” Lyddy replied, +gracefully. “We are a thousand times obliged +for your making it possible for us to attend church. +You are all so kind, Mrs. Pritchett. But this afternoon +I must plead the wicked intention of writing +letters. I haven’t written a line to one of my +college friends since I came to Hillcrest.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pritchett merely grunted. Lucas covered +his mother’s grumpiness by inconsequential chatter +with ’Phemie while he drove in and turned the +ponies so that the girls could get out.</p> + +<p>“A thousand thanks!” cried ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Good-day!” exclaimed Lyddy, brightly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pritchett’s bonnet only shook the harder, +and she did not turn to look at the girls. Lucas +cast a very rueful glance in their direction as he +drove hastily away.</p> + +<p>“Now we’ve done it!” gasped ’Phemie, half +laughing, half in disgust.</p> + +<p>“Why! whatever is the matter, do you suppose?” +demanded her sister.</p> + +<p>“Well, if you can’t see <i>that</i>―”</p> + +<p>“I see she’s angry over Sairy and the school +teacher–poor man! But what have we to do +with that?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span>“It’s your fatal attractiveness,” sighed ’Phemie. +Then she began to laugh. “You’re a very +innocent baby, Lyd. Don’t you see that Maw +Pritchett thought–or hoped–that she had Mr. +Somers nicely entangled with Sairy? And he +neglected her for you. Bing! it’s all off, and +we’re at outs with the Pritchett family.”</p> + +<p>“What awful language!” sighed Lyddy, unlocking +the door. “I am sorry you ever went to +work in that millinery shop, ’Phemie. It has +made your mind–er–almost common!”</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie only laughed.</p> + +<p>If the Pritchett females were “at outs” with +them, the men of the family did not appear to be. +At least, Cyrus and his son were at Hillcrest +bright and early on Monday morning, with two +teams ready for plowing. Lyddy had a serious +talk with Mr. Pritchett first.</p> + +<p>“Ya-as. That’s good ’tater and truckin’ land +behind the barn. It’s laid out a good many +years now, for it’s only an acre, or so, and we +never tilled it for corn. It’s out o’ the way, +kinder,” said the elder Pritchett.</p> + +<p>“Then I want that for a garden,” Lyddy declared.</p> + +<p>“It don’t pay me to work none of this ‘off’ +land for garden trucks,” said Cyrus, shortly. +“Not ’nless ye want a few rows o’ stuff in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span> +cornfield jest where I can cultivate with the +hosses.”</p> + +<p>“But if you plant corn here, you must plant +my garden, too,” insisted Lyddy, who was quite as +obstinate as the old farmer. “And I’d like to have +a big garden, and plenty of potatoes, too. I am +going to keep boarders this summer, and I want to +raise enough to feed them–or partly feed them, +at least.”</p> + +<p>“Huh! Boarders, eh? A gal like you!”</p> + +<p>“We’re not rich enough to sit with idle hands, +and I mean to try and earn something,” Lyddy +declared. “And we’ll want vegetables to carry +us over winter, too.”</p> + +<p>Lucas had been listening with flushed and +anxious face. Now he broke in eagerly:</p> + +<p>“You said I could till a piece for myself this +year, Dad. Lemme do it up here. There’s a +better chance to sell trucks in Bridleburg than +there has been. I’ll plow and take care of two +acres up here, if Miss Lyddy says so, for half the +crops, she to supply seed and fertilizer.”</p> + +<p>“Will–will it cost much, Lucas?” asked +Lyddy, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“That land’s rich, but it may be sour. Ain’t +that so, Dad? It won’t take so very much phosphate; +will it?”</p> + +<p>Cyrus was slower mentally than these eager +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span> +young folk. He had to think it over and discuss +it from different angles. But finally he gave his +consent to the plan and advised his son and Lyddy +how to manage the matter.</p> + +<p>“You kin git your fertilizer on time–six or +nine months–right here in Bridleburg. That +gives you a chance to raise your crop and market +it before paying for the fertilizer,” he said. +“You’ll have to get corn fertilizer, too, in the +same way. But ’most ev’rybody else on the ridge +does the same. We ain’t a very fore-handed community, +and that’s a fac’.”</p> + +<p>At noon Lyddy and ’Phemie talked over the +garden project more fully with Lucas. They +planned what early seeds should be planted, and +Lucas began plowing that particular piece behind +the barn right after dinner.</p> + +<p>Lyddy had very little money to work with, +but she believed in “nothing ventured, nothing +gained.” She told Lucas to purchase a bag +of potatoes for planting the next day when he +went to town, and he was to buy a few papers of +early garden seeds, too.</p> + +<p>And when Lucas came back with the potatoes +he brought a surprise for the Bray girls. He +drove into the yard with a flourish. ’Phemie +looked out of the window, uttered a scream of +joy and surprise, and rushed out to receive her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +father in her strong young arms as he got down +from the seat.</p> + +<p>How feeble and tired he looked! ’Phemie +began to cry; but Lyddy “braced up” and declared +he looked a whole lot better already +and that Hillcrest would cure him in just no +time.</p> + +<p>“And that foolish ’Phemie is only crying for +joy at seeing you so unexpectedly, Father,” said +Lyddy, scowling frightfully at her sister over +their father’s bowed head as they helped him into +the house.</p> + +<p>Lucas hovered in the background; but he could +not help them. ’Phemie saw, however, that the +young farmer fully appreciated the situation and +was truly sympathetic.</p> + +<p>The change in Mr. Bray’s appearance was a +great shock to both girls. Of course, the doctor +at the hospital had promised Lyddy no great improvement +in the patient until he could be got +up here on the hills, where the air was pure and +healing.</p> + +<p>Aunt Jane had come as far as the junction with +him; but he had come on alone to Bridleburg +from there, and the agent at the station had +telephoned uptown to tell Lucas that the invalid +wished to get to Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>“I’m all right; I’m all right!” he kept repeating. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +But the girls almost carried him between +them into the house.</p> + +<p>“The doctors said you could do more for me +up here than they could do for me there,” panted +Mr. Bray, smiling faintly at his daughters, who +hovered about him as he sat before the crackling +wood fire in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>“And Aunt Jane never told us you were +coming!” gasped Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“What’s the odds, as long as he’s here?” demanded +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Why, I shall soon be my old self again up +here,” Mr. Bray declared, hopefully. “Now, +don’t fuss over me, girls. You’ve got other +things to do. That young fellow who brought +me up here seems to be your chief cook and bottle-washer, +and he wants to speak to you, I +reckon,” for Lucas was waiting to learn where he +should put the potatoes and other things.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bray knew all about the boarding house +project and approved of it. “Why, I can soon +help around myself. And I must do something,” +he told them, that evening, “or I shall go crazy. +I couldn’t endure the rest cure.” But it was complete +rest that he had to endure for several days +after his unexpected arrival.</p> + +<p>The girls gave up their room to their father, +and went upstairs to sleep. ’Phemie had to admit +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span> +that even <i>she</i> was glad there was at last somebody +else in the house. Especially a man!</p> + +<p>“But I never have thought to ask Mr. Pritchett +about his being up here with that Spink man +last Saturday night,” Lyddy said, sleepily.</p> + +<p>“You’d better let it drop,” advised ’Phemie. +“We don’t want to get the whole Pritchett family +down on us.”</p> + +<p>“What nonsense! Of course I shall ask him,” +declared her sister.</p> + +<p>But as it happened something occurred the following +day to quite put this small matter out +of Lyddy’s mind. The postman brought the first +letter in answer to their advertisement. Lyddy +was about to tear open the envelope when she +halted in amazement. The card printed in the +corner included the number of Trimble Avenue +right next to the big tenement house in which the +Brays had lived before coming here to Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t that strange?” she murmured, and read +the card again:</p> + +<div class='center'> +<p><i>Commonwealth Chemical Company</i><br /> +<i>407 Trimble Avenue</i><br /> +<i>Easthampton</i></p> +</div> <!-- centered --> + +<p>“Right from the very next door!” sparkled +’Phemie. “Don’t that beat all!–as Lucas says.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span>But Lyddy had now opened the letter and read +as follows:</p> + +<p class='mb00 mt15'>“L. Bray, Hillcrest Farm, Bridleburg P. O.</p> +<p class='mt00 ml20'>“Dear Madam:</p> + +<p>“I have read your advertisement and believe +that you offer exactly what my father and I have +been looking for–a quiet, home-like boarding +house in the hills, and not too far away for me +to get easily back and forth. If agreeable, we +shall come to Bridleburg Saturday and would be +glad to have you meet the 10:14 train on its arrival. +If both parties are suited we can then +discuss terms.</p> + +<p class='tar mb00 mr80'>“Respectfully,</p> +<p class='tar mt00 mr20 mb15'>“<span class='sc'>Harris Colesworth.</span>”</p> + +<p>“Why, what’s the matter, Lyd?” demanded +her sister, in amazement.</p> + +<p>But Lyddy Bray did not explain. In her own +mind she was much disturbed. She was confident +that the writer of this note was the “fresh” +young fellow who had always been at work in the +chemical laboratory right across the air-shaft from +her kitchen window!</p> + +<p>Of course, it was quite by chance–in all probability–that +he had answered her advertisement. +Yet Lyddy Bray had an intuition that if she answered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +the letter, and the Colesworths came here +to Hillcrest, trouble would ensue.</p> + +<p>She had hoped very much to obtain boarders, +and to get even one thus early in the season seemed +too good to be true. Yet, now that she had got +what she wanted, Lyddy was doubtful if she +wanted it after all.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span><a id='link_14'></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE COLESWORTHS</span></h2> + +<p>Mr. Bray fell in with the boarder project, as +we have seen, with enthusiasm. Although he +could do nothing as yet, his mind was active +enough and he gaily planned with ’Phemie what +they should do and how they should arrange the +rooms for the horde of visitors who were, they +were sure, already on their way to Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>“Though Lyd won’t show the very first letter +she’s received in answer to our ad.,” complained +the younger sister. “What’s the matter with +those folks, Lyddy? Do they actually live right +there near where we did on Trimble Avenue?”</p> + +<p>“That was a loft building next to us,” said +their father, curiously. “Who are the people, +daughter?”</p> + +<p>“Somebody by the name of Colesworth. The +Commonwealth Chemical Company office. It’s +about an old man to stay here.”</p> + +<p>“One man only!” exclaimed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“With a young man–the one who writes–to +come up over Sundays, I suppose,” acknowledged +Lyddy, doubtfully.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span>“Goody!” cried her sister. “<i>That</i> sounds +better.”</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, ’Phemie!” +chided Lyddy, with some asperity.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Bray only laughed. “I guess I can +play ‘he-chaperon’ for all the young men who +come here,” he said. “Your sister is only making +fun, Lydia.”</p> + +<p>But Lyddy was more worried in secret about +the Colesworth proposition than she was ready +to acknowledge. She “just felt” that Harris +Colesworth was the young man who had +helped them the evening of the fire in the Trimble +Avenue tenement.</p> + +<p>“He found out our name, of course, and when +he saw my advertisement he knew who it was. +He may even have found out where we were going +when we left for the country. In some way +he could have done so,” thought Lyddy, putting +the young man’s character before her mind in the +very worst possible light.</p> + +<p>“He is altogether too persistent. I hope he +is as energetic in a better way–I hope he attends +to his business as faithfully as he seems to attend +to <i>our</i> affairs,” continued Lyddy, bitterly.</p> + +<p>“I don’t suppose this idea of his father coming +up here into the hills is entirely an excuse for him +to become familiar with–with <i>us</i>. But it looks +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +very much like it. I–I wonder what kind of a +man old Mr. Colesworth can be?”</p> + +<p>Lyddy ruminated upon the letter she had received +all that day and refused to answer it right +away. Indeed, as far as she could see, the letter +did not really need an answer. This Harris +Colesworth spoke just as though he expected they +would be only too glad to meet him on Saturday +with a rig.</p> + +<p>“And, if it were anybody else, I suppose I +would be glad to do so,” Lyddy finally had to +admit. “I suppose that ‘beggars mustn’t be +choosers’; and if this Harris Colesworth isn’t +a perfectly proper young man to have about, +father will very quickly attend to <i>his</i> case.”</p> + +<p>Really, Lyddy Bray thought much more about +the Colesworths than her sister and father thought +she did. After being urged by ’Phemie several +times she finally allowed her sister to reply to +the letter, promising to have a carriage at the +station for the train mentioned in Harris Colesworth’s +letter.</p> + +<p>Of course, this meant hiring Lucas Pritchett +and the buckboard. Lucas was at Hillcrest a +good deal of the time that week. He got the +garden plowed and the early potatoes planted, as +well as some few other seeds which would not be +hurt by the late frosts.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span>Mr. Bray got around very slowly; at first he +could only walk up and down in the sun, or sit +on the porch, well wrapped up.</p> + +<p>Like most men born in the country and forced +to be city dwellers for many years, John Bray +had longed more deeply than he could easily express +for country living. He appreciated the +sights and sounds about him–the mellow, refreshing +air that blew over the hills–the sunshine and +the pattering rain which, on these early spring +days, drifted alternately across the fields and +woods.</p> + +<p>With the girls he planned for the future. +Some day they would have a cow. There was +pasture on the farm for a dozen. And already +Lyddy was studying poultry catalogs and trying +to figure out a little spare money to purchase some +eggs for hatching.</p> + +<p>Of course they had no hens and at this time +of the year the neighbors were likely to want +their own setting hens for incubating purposes. +Lyddy sounded Silas Trent, the mail-carrier, +about this and Mr. Trent had an offer to make.</p> + +<p>“I tell ye what it is,” said the garrulous Silas, +“the chicken business is a good business–if ye +kin ’tend to it right. I tried it–went in deep for +incubator, brooders, and the like; and it would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +have been all right if I didn’t hafter be away +from home so much durin’ the day.</p> + +<p>“My wife’s got rheumatiz, and she can’t git +out to ’tend to little chicks, and for a few weeks +they need a sight of attention–that’s right. +They’d oughter be fed every two hours, or so, +and watched pretty close.</p> + +<p>“So I had ter give it up last year, an’ this +year I ain’t put an egg in my incubator.</p> + +<p>“But if I could git ’em growed to scratchin’ +state–say, when they’re broiler-size–I sartainly +would like it. Tell ye what I’ll do, Miss. I’ll +let ye have my incubator. It’s 200-egg size. In +course, ye don’t hafter fill it first time if ye don’t +wanter. Put in a hundred eggs and see how ye +come out.”</p> + +<p>“But how could I pay you?” asked Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“I’ll sell ye the incubator outright, if ye want +to buy. And I’ll take my pay in chickens when +they’re broiler-size–say three months old.”</p> + +<p>“What do you want for your incubator?” +queried Lyddy, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“Ten dollars. It’s a good one. And I’ll take +a flock of twenty three-months-old chicks in pay +for it–fifteen pullets and five cockerels. What +kind of hens do you favor, Miss Bray?”</p> + +<p>Lyddy told him the breed she had thought of +purchasing–and the strain.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span>“Them’s fine birds,” declared Mr. Trent. +“For heavy fowl they are good layers–and +when ye butcher one of ’em for the table, ye got +suthin’ to eat. Now, you think my offer over. +I’ll stick to it. And I’ll set the incubator up and +show ye how to run it.”</p> + +<p>Lyddy was very anxious to venture into the +chicken business–and here was a chance to do it +cheaply. It was the five dollars for a hundred +hatching eggs that made her hesitate.</p> + +<p>But Aunt Jane had shown herself to be more +than a little interested in the girls’ venture at +Hillcrest Farm, and when she expressed the keys +of the garret chests and bureaus to Lyddy–so +that the girl could get at the stores of linen left +from the old doctor’s day–she sent, too, twenty-five +dollars.</p> + +<p>“Keep it against emergencies. Pay it back +when you can. And don’t let’s have no talk about +it,” was the old lady’s characteristic note.</p> + +<p>Lyddy was only doubtful as to whether this +desire of hers to raise chickens was really “an +emergency.” But finally she decided to venture, +and she wrote off for the eggs, sending the money +by a post-office order, and Lucas brought up Silas +Trent’s incubator.</p> + +<p>Friday night Trent drove up to Hillcrest and +spent the evening with the Brays. He set the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +incubator up in the little washhouse, which opened +directly off the back porch. It was a small, tight +room, with only one window, and was easily +heated by an oil-lamp. The lamp of the incubator +itself would do the trick, Trent said.</p> + +<p>He leveled the machine with great care, showed +Lyddy all about the trays, the water, the regulation +of heat, and gave her a lot of advice on +various matters connected with the raising of +chicks with the “wooden hen.”</p> + +<p>They were all vastly interested in the new vocation +and the evening passed pleasantly enough. +Just before Trent went, he asked:</p> + +<p>“By the way, what’s Jud Spink doing up this +way so much? I seen him again to-day when I +came over the ridge. He was crossin’ the back +of your farm. He didn’t have no gun; and, at +any rate, there ain’t nothin’ in season jest now–’nless +it’s crows,” and the mail-carrier laughed.</p> + +<p>“Spink?” asked Mr. Bray, who had not yet +gone to bed. “Who is he?”</p> + +<p>“Lemuel Judson Spink,” explained ’Phemie. +“He’s a man who used to live here with grandfather +when he was a boy–when <i>Spink</i> was a +boy; not grandfather.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a rich man now,” said Lyddy. “He +owns a breakfast food.”</p> + +<p>“Diamond Grits,” added ’Phemie.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span>“He’s rich enough,” grunted Trent. “Rich +enough so’t he can loaf around Bridleburg for +months at a time. Been here now for some time.”</p> + +<p>“Why, could that be the Spink your Aunt Jane +told me once made her an offer for the farm?” +asked Mr. Bray, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“For Hillcrest?” cried ’Phemie. “Oh, I hope +not.”</p> + +<p>“Well, child, if she could sell the place it would +be a good thing for Jane. She has none too much +money.”</p> + +<p>“But why didn’t she sell to him?” asked +Lyddy, quite as anxious as her sister.</p> + +<p>“He didn’t offer her much, if anything, for it.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t that like Jud?” cackled Trent. “He +is allus grouching about the old doctor for being +as tight as the bark to a tree; but when it comes +to a bargain, Jud Spink will wring yer nose +ev’ry time–if he can. Glad Mis’ Hammon’ didn’t +sell to him.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he didn’t want Hillcrest very much,” +said Mr. Bray, quietly.</p> + +<p>“He don’t want nothin’ ’nless it’s cheap,” declared +Trent. “He’s picked up some mortgage +notes, and the like, on property he thinks he can +foreclose on. Got a jedgment against the Widder +Harrison’s little place over the ridge, I understand. +But Jud Spink wouldn’t pay more’n ha’f +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +price for a gold eagle. He’d claim ’twas second-hand, +if it warn’t fresh from the mint,” and the +mail-carrier went off, chuckling over his own joke.</p> + +<p>Both Lyddy and ’Phemie forgot, however, +about the curious actions of Mr. Spink, or his +desire to buy Hillcrest, in their interest in the +coming of the only people who had, thus far, answered +their advertisement for boarders.</p> + +<p>Lucas met the 10:14 train on Saturday morning, +and before noon he drove into the side yard +with an old gentleman and a young man on the +rear seat of the buckboard.</p> + +<p>Before this the two girls, working hard, had +swept and garnished the whole lower floor of the +big farmhouse, save the east wing, which was +locked. Indeed, Lyddy had never ventured into +the old doctor’s suite of offices, for she couldn’t +find the key.</p> + +<p>A fire had been laid and was burning cheerfully +in the dining-room–that apartment being just +across the square side entrance hall from the +kitchen. Lyddy was busy over the cooking arrangements +when the visitors arrived, and ’Phemie +was giving the finishing touches to the table +in the dining-room.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Bray, leaning on his cane, met the +Colesworths as they alighted from the buckboard. +Lucas drove away at once, promising to return +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +again with the team in time to catch the four-fifty +train back to town.</p> + +<p>Lyddy found time to peep out of the kitchen +window. Yes! there was that very bold young +man who had troubled her so much–at times–while +they lived in Trimble Avenue.</p> + +<p>He met Mr. Bray with a warm handshake, and +he helped his father up the wide stone steps with +a delicacy that would have pleased Lyddy in anybody +else.</p> + +<p>But she had made up her mind that Harris +Colesworth was going to be a very objectionable +person to have about, and so she would not accept +his friendly attitude or thoughtfulness as +real virtues. He might attract the rest of the +family–already ’Phemie was standing in the door, +smiling and with her hand held out; but Lyddy +Bray proposed to watch this young man very +closely!</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span><a id='link_15'></a>CHAPTER XV<br /><span class='h2fs'>ANOTHER BOARDER</span></h2> + +<p>Lyddy heard her sister and Harris Colesworth +in the hall, and then in the dining-room. The +girls had not made a fire in any other room in the +house. It took too much wood, and the dining-room +was large enough to be used as a sitting-room +“for company,” too.</p> + +<p>And with the fresh maple branches and arbutus +decorating the space over the mantel, and the +great dish of violets on the table, and the odorous +plum branches everywhere, that dining-room was +certainly an attractive apartment.</p> + +<p>The old-fashioned blue-and-white china and +the few pieces of heavy silverware “dressed” the +table very nicely. The linen was yellow with +age, but every glass and spoon shone.</p> + +<p>The sun streamed warmly in at the windows, +the view from which was lovely. Lyddy heard +the appreciative remarks of the young man as +’Phemie ushered him in.</p> + +<p>But she ran out to greet the old gentleman. +The elder Colesworth was sixty or more–a frail, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span> +scholarly-looking man, with a winning smile. He, +like Mr. Bray, leaned on a cane; but Mr. Bray +was at least fifteen years Mr. Colesworth’s junior.</p> + +<p>“So <i>you</i> are ‘L. Bray’; are you?” asked the +old gentleman, shaking hands with her. “You +are the elder daughter and head of the household, +your father tells me.”</p> + +<p>“I am older than ’Phemie–yes,” admitted +Lyddy, blushing. “But we have no ‘head’ here. +I do my part of the work, and she does hers.”</p> + +<p>“And, please God,” said Mr. Bray, earnestly, +“I shall soon be able to do mine.”</p> + +<p>“Work is the word, then!” cried the old gentleman. +“I tell Harris that’s all that is the matter +with me. I knocked off work too early. +‘Retired,’ they call it. But it doesn’t pay–it +doesn’t pay.”</p> + +<p>“There will be plenty for you to do up here, +Mr. Colesworth,” suggested Lyddy, laughing. +“We’ll let you chop your own wood, if you like. +But perhaps picking flowers for the table will be +more to your taste–at first.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know–I don’t know,” returned the +old gentleman. “I was brought up on a farm. +I used to know how to swing an axe. And I can +remember yet how I hated a buck-saw.”</p> + +<p>They went into the house; but Lyddy slipped +back to the kitchen and allowed her father to follow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span> +Harris Colesworth and ’Phemie, with the old +gentleman, into the dining-room.</p> + +<p>’Phemie soon came out to help, leaving their +father to entertain the visitors while dinner was +being served. Lyddy had prepared a simple +meal, of which the staple was the New England +standby–baked beans.</p> + +<p>She had been up before light, had built a huge +fire in the brick oven, had heated it to a high temperature, +and had then baked her pies, a huge +pan of gingerbread, her white bread, and potatoes +for dinner. She had steamed her “brown loaf” +in a kettle hanging from the crane, and the sealed +beanpot had been all night in the ashes on the +hearth, the right “finish” being given in the brick +oven as it gradually cooled off.</p> + +<p>The girl had had wonderfully good luck with +her baking. The bread was neither “all crust” +nor was it dough in the middle. The pies were +flaky as to crust and the apples which filled them +were tender.</p> + +<p>When Lyddy brought in the beanpot, wrapped +in a blue and white towel to retain the heat, she +met Harris Colesworth for the first time. To +her surprise he did not attempt to appear amazed +to see her.</p> + +<p>“Miss Bray!” he cried, coming forward to +shake hands with her. “I have been telling your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +father that we are already acquainted. But I +never <i>did</i> expect to see you again when you sold +out and went away from Trimble Avenue that +morning.”</p> + +<p>“Shows how small the world is,” said Mr. +Bray, smiling. “We lived right beside the building +in which Mr. Colesworth works, and he saw +our advertisement in the paper―”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I was sure it was Miss Bray,” interrupted +young Colesworth, openly acknowledging his uncalled-for +interest (so Lyddy expressed it to herself) +in their affairs.</p> + +<p>“You see,” said this very frank young man, “I +knew your name was Bray. And I knew you +were going into the country for Mr. Bray’s health. +I–I even asked at the hospital about you several +times,” he added, flushing a little.</p> + +<p>“How very kind!” murmured Lyddy, but without +looking at him, as ’Phemie brought in some +of the other dishes.</p> + +<p>“Not at all; I was interested,” said the young +man, laughing. “You always were afraid of getting +acquainted with me when I used to watch +you working about your kitchen. But now, Miss +Bray, if father decides to come out here to board +with you, you’ll just <i>have</i> to be acquainted with +me.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bray laughed at this, and ’Phemie giggled. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span> +Lyddy’s face was a study. It did seem impossible +to keep this very presuming young man at a +proper distance.</p> + +<p>But they gathered around the table then, and +Lyddy had another reason for blushing. The +visitors praised her cooking highly, and when they +learned of the old-fashioned means by which the +cooking was done, their wonder grew.</p> + +<p>And Lyddy deserved some praise, that was sure. +The potatoes came out of their crisp skins as light +as feathers. The thickened pork gravy that went +with them was something Mr. Colesworth the +elder declared he had not tasted since he was a +boy.</p> + +<p>And when the beans were ladled from the pot–brown, +moist, every bean firm in its individual +jacket, but seasoned through and through–the +Colesworths fairly reveled in them. The fresh +bread and good butter, and the flaky wedges of +apple pie, each flanked by its pilot of cheese, were +likewise enjoyed.</p> + +<p>“If you can put us up only half comfortably,” +declared the elder Colesworth, bowing to Lyddy, +“I can tell you right now, young lady, that we +will stay. Let us see your rooms, we will come +to terms, and then I’ll take a nap, if you will allow +me. I need it after this heavy dinner. Why, +Harris! I haven’t eaten so heartily for months.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span>“Never saw you sail into the menu with any +more enjoyment, Dad,” declared his son, in delight.</p> + +<p>But Lyddy made her sister show them over the +house. They were some time in making up their +minds regarding the choice of apartments; but +finally they decided upon one of the large rooms +the girls proposed making over into bed-chambers +on the ground floor. This room was nearest the +east wing, had long windows opening upon the +side porch, and with the two small beds removed +from the half-furnished rooms on the second floor +of the east wing, and brought downstairs, together +with one or two other pieces of furniture, the +Colesworths declared themselves satisfied with the +accommodations.</p> + +<p>Young Colesworth would come out on Saturdays +and return Monday mornings. He would +arrange with Lucas to drive him back and forth. +And the old gentleman would come out, bag and +baggage, on the coming Monday to take possession +of the room.</p> + +<p>To bind the bargain Harris handed Lyddy fifteen +dollars, and asked for a receipt. Fifteen +dollars a week! Lyddy had scarcely dared ask +for it–had done so with fear and trembling, in +fact. But the Colesworths seemed to consider it +quite within reason.</p> + +<p>“Oh, ’Phemie!” gasped Lyddy, hugging her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +sister tight out in the kitchen. “Just think of +<i>fifteen dollars</i> coming in every week. Why! we +can all <i>live</i> on that!”</p> + +<p>“M–m; yes,” said ’Phemie, ruminatively. +“But hasn’t he a handsome nose?”</p> + +<p>“Who–what― ’Phemie Bray! haven’t you +anything else in your head but young men’s +noses?” cried her sister, in sudden wrath.</p> + +<p>But it was a beginning. They had really “got +into business,” as their father said that night at +the supper table.</p> + +<p>“I only fear that the work will be too much +for us,” he observed.</p> + +<p>“For ’Phemie and me, you mean, Father,” +said Lyddy, firmly. “You are not to work. +You’re to get well. <i>That</i> is your business–and +your only business.”</p> + +<p>“You girls will baby me to death!” cried Mr. +Bray, wiping his eyes. “I refuse to be laid on +the shelf. I hope I am not useless―”</p> + +<p>“My goodness me! Far from it,” cried ’Phemie. +“But you’ll be lots more help to us when +you are perfectly well and strong again.”</p> + +<p>“There’ll be plenty you can do without taxing +your strength–and without keeping you indoors,” +Lyddy added. “Just think if we get the chicken +business started. You can do all of that–after +the biddies are hatched.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span>“I feel so much better already, girls,” declared +their father, gravely, “that I am sure I +shall have a giant’s strength before fall.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Jane had written them, however, certain +advice which the doctor at the hospital had given +to her regarding Mr. Bray. He was to be discouraged +from performing any heavy tasks of +whatsoever nature, and his diet was to consist +mainly of milk and eggs–tissue-building fuel for +the system.</p> + +<p>He had worked so long in the hat shop that his +lungs were in a weakened state, if not actually affected. +For months they would have to watch +him carefully. And to return to his work in the +city would be suicidal.</p> + +<p>Therefore were Lyddy and ’Phemie more than +ever anxious to make the boarders’ project pay. +And with the Colesworths’ fifteen dollars a week +it seemed as though a famous start had been made +in that direction.</p> + +<p>By serving simple food, plainly cooked, Lyddy +was confident that she could keep the table for all +five from the board paid by Mr. Colesworth and +his son. If they got other boarders, a goodly share +of <i>their</i> weekly stipends could be added on the +profit side of the ledger.</p> + +<p>Lucas helped them for a couple of hours Monday +morning, and the girls managed to put the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span> +room the newcomers had chosen into readiness +for the old gentleman. Lucas drove to town to +meet Mr. Colesworth. Lucas was beginning to +make something out of the Bray girls’ project, +too, and he grinned broadly as he said to ’Phemie:</p> + +<p>“I’m goin’ to be able to put up for a brand new +buggy nex’ fall, Miss ’Phemie–a better one +than Joe Badger’s got. What ’twixt this cartin’ +boarders over the roads, and makin’ Miss Lyddy’s +garden, I’m going to be well fixed.”</p> + +<p>“On the road to be a millionaire; are you, +Lucas?” suggested ’Phemie, laughing.</p> + +<p>“Nope. Jest got one object in view,” grinned +Lucas.</p> + +<p>“What’s that?”</p> + +<p>“I wanter drive you to church in my new +buggy, and make Joe Badger an’ that Nettie +Meyers look like thirty cents. That’s what <i>I</i> +want.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lucas! <i>That</i> isn’t a very high ambition,” +she cried.</p> + +<p>“But it’s goin’ to give me an almighty lot of +satisfaction,” declared the young farmer. “You +won’t go back on me; will yer, Miss ’Phemie?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll ride with you–of course,” replied ’Phemie. +“But I’d just as lief go in the buckboard.”</p> + +<p>“Now <i>that</i>,” said the somewhat puzzled Lucas, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +“is another thing that makes you gals diff’rent +from the gals around here.”</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Colesworth came and made himself +at home very quickly. He played cribbage with +Mr. Bray in the evening while the girls did up the +work and sewed; and during the early days of his +stay with them he proved to be a very pleasant +old gentleman, with few crotchets, and no special +demands upon the girls for attention.</p> + +<p>He walked a good deal, proved to be something +of a geologist, and pottered about the rocky section +of the farm with a little hammer and bag for +hours together.</p> + +<p>As Mr. Bray could walk only a little way, Mr. +Colesworth did most of his rambling about Hillcrest +alone. And he grew fonder and fonder of +the place as the first week advanced.</p> + +<p>As far as his entertainment went, he could +have no complaint as to that, for he was getting +all that Lyddy had promised him–a comfortable +bed, a fire on his hearth when he wanted it, and +the same plain food that the family ate.</p> + +<p>The girls of Hillcrest Farm had received no +further answer to their advertisement, but the +news that they were keeping boarders had gone +broadcast over the ridge, of course. Silas Trent +would have spread this bit of news, if nobody +else.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span>But on Saturday morning, soon after breakfast, +Mr. Somers’s old gray mare turned up their lane, +and Lyddy put on a clean apron and rolled down +her sleeves to go out and speak to the school +teacher.</p> + +<p>“That’s a very good thing about that lane,” +’Phemie remarked, aside. “It is just long enough +so that, if we see anybody turn in, we can primp +a little before they get to the house.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Bray,” said the teacher, hopping out +of his buggy and shaking hands, “you see me +here, a veritable beggar.”</p> + +<p>“A beggar?” queried Lyddy, in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have come to beg a favor. And a +very great one, too.”</p> + +<p>“Why–I―”</p> + +<p>He laughed and went on to explain–yet his +explanation at first puzzled her.</p> + +<p>“Where do you suppose I slept last night, Miss +Bray?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“In your bed,” she returned.</p> + +<p>“Wrong!”</p> + +<p>“Is it a joke–or a puzzle?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I had to sleep in the barn. You see, +thus far this term I have boarded with Sam +Larribee. But yesterday his boy came down with +the measles. He had been out of school for several +days–had been visiting the other side of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +ridge. They think he caught it there–at his +cousin’s.</p> + +<p>“However,” continued Mr. Somers, “that +does not help me. When I came home from +school and heard the doctor’s report, I refused +to enter the house. We don’t want an epidemic +of measles at Pounder’s School.</p> + +<p>“So I slept in the barn with Old Molly, here. +And now I must find another boarding place. +They–er–tell me, Miss Bray, that you intend +to take boarders?”</p> + +<p>“Why–er–yes,” admitted Lyddy, faintly.</p> + +<p>“You have some already?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Colesworth and his son. They have +just come.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t you put me–and Molly–up for +the rest of the term?” asked the school teacher, +laughing.</p> + +<p>“Why, I don’t know but I could,” said Lyddy, +her business sense coming to her aid. “I–why, +yes! I am quite sure about <i>you</i>; but about the +horse, I do not know.”</p> + +<p>“You surely have a stall to spare?”</p> + +<p>“Plenty; but no feed.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I will bring my own grain; and I’ll let +her pasture in your orchard. She doesn’t work +hard and doesn’t need much forage except what +she can glean at this time of year for herself.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span>“Well, then, perhaps it can be arranged,” said +Lyddy. “Will you come in and see what our +accommodations are?”</p> + +<p>And so that is how another boarder came to +Hillcrest Farm. Mr. Somers chose one of the +smaller rooms upstairs, and agreed to pay for his +own entertainment and pasturage for his horse–six +dollars and a half a week. It was a little +more than he had been paying at Larribee’s, he +said–but then, Mr. Somers wanted to come to +Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>He drove away to get his trunk out of the +window of his bedroom at the measles-stricken +farmhouse down the hill; he would not risk entering +by the door for the sake of his other pupils.</p> + +<p>A little later Lucas drove up from town with +Harris Colesworth and his bag.</p> + +<p>“Say!” whispered the lanky farmer, leaning +from his seat to whisper to ’Phemie. “I hear +tell you’ve got school teacher for a boarder, too? +Is that so?”</p> + +<p>“What of it?” demanded ’Phemie, somewhat +vexed.</p> + +<p>“Oh, nawthin’. Only ye oughter seen Sairy’s +face when maw told her!”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span><a id='link_16'></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE BALL KEEPS ROLLING</span></h2> + +<p>The school teacher pressingly invited the Bray +girls to accompany him to the temperance meeting +that evening; his buggy would hold the three, +he declared. But both Lyddy and ’Phemie had +good reason for being excused. There was now +work for them–and plenty of it.</p> + +<p>They had to disappoint Lucas in this matter, +too; but Harris Colesworth laughingly accepted +the teacher’s later proposal that <i>he</i> attend, and +the two young men drove off together, leaving +the girls in the kitchen and old Mr. Colesworth +and Mr. Bray playing cribbage in the dining-room.</p> + +<p>It was while ’Phemie was clearing the supper +table that her attention was caught by something +that Mr. Colesworth said.</p> + +<p>“Who is your neighbor that I see so much +up yonder among the rocks, at the back of this +farm, Mr. Bray?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Pritchett?” suggested Mr. Bray. +“Cyrus Pritchett. The long-legged boy’s father. +He farms a part of these acres―”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span>“No. It is not Cyrus Pritchett I mean. And +he is no farmer.”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t tell you,” said Mr. Bray.</p> + +<p>“A rather peculiar-looking man–long hair, +black coat, broad-brimmed hat. I have frequently +come upon him during the last few days. +He always walks off as though in haste. I never +have got near enough to speak to him.”</p> + +<p>“Why,” responded Mr. Bray, thoughtfully +scanning his hand, and evidently giving little attention +to Mr. Colesworth’s mystery, “why, I’m +sure I don’t know what would attract anybody +up in that part of the farm.”</p> + +<p>“Saving a man interested in breaking open +rocks to see what’s in them,” chuckled Mr. Colesworth. +“But this fellow is no geologist.”</p> + +<p>’Phemie, however, decided that she knew who +it was. Silas Trent had mentioned seeing the +man, Spink, up that way; and, on more than one +occasion, ’Phemie was sure the owner of the +Diamond Grits breakfast food had been lurking +about Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>“Lyddy has never asked Cyrus Pritchett about +that evening he and Spink were up here–two +weeks ago this very night. I almost wish she’d +do so. This mystery is getting on my nerves!”</p> + +<p>And yet ’Phemie was not at all sure that there +was any mystery about it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span>Lyddy, on the strength of getting her first +boarders, renewed her advertisement in the Easthampton +papers. At once she received half a +dozen inquiries. It was yet too early in the season +to expect many people to wish to come to the +country to board; yet Lyddy painstakingly answered +each letter, and in full.</p> + +<p>But she really did not see how she would be +able to get on over the summer with the open fire +and the brick oven. It would be dreadfully hot +in that kitchen. And she would have been glad +to use Mrs. Pritchett’s Dutch oven that Lucas +had told her about.</p> + +<p>But since the first Sunday neither Mrs. Pritchett +or Sairy had been near Hillcrest. Now that Mr. +Somers had established himself here, the Bray +girls did not expect to ever be forgiven by +“Maw” Pritchett and her daughter.</p> + +<p>“It’s too bad people are so foolish,” said +Lyddy, wearily. “I haven’t done anything to +Sairy.”</p> + +<p>“But she and her mother think you have. By +your wiles you have inveigled Mr. Somers away +from Sairy,” giggled ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“’Phemie!” gasped her sister. “If you say +such a thing again, I’ll send Mr. Somers packing!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, shucks! Can’t you see the fun of it!?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span>“There is no fun in it,” declared the very +proper Lyddy. “It is only disgraceful.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to tell that young Mr. Colesworth +about it,” laughed ’Phemie. “He’d just be +tickled to death.”</p> + +<p>Lyddy looked at her haughtily. “You <i>dare</i> +include me in any gossip of such a character, and +I–”</p> + +<p>“Well? You’ll what?” demanded the +younger girl, saucily.</p> + +<p>“I shall feel very much like spanking you!” +declared Lyddy. “And that is just what you +would deserve.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, now–don’t get mad, Lyd,” urged +’Phemie. “You take things altogether too +seriously.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” responded the older girl, going back +to the main subject, “the problem of how we +are to cook when it comes warm weather is a very, +very serious matter.”</p> + +<p>“We’ve just got to have a range–ought to +have one with a tank, on the end in which to heat +water. I’ve seen ’em advertised.”</p> + +<p>“But how can we? I’ve gone into debt now +for more than thirty dollars’ worth of commercial +fertilizer. I don’t dare get deeper into the mire.”</p> + +<p>“But,” cried the sanguine ’Phemie, “the crops +will more than pay for <i>that</i> outlay.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span>“Perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a born grump, Lyddy Bray!”</p> + +<p>“Somebody has to look ahead,” sighed Lyddy. +“The crops may fail. Such things happen. Or +we may get no more boarders. Or father may +get worse.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Don’t</i> say such things, Lyddy!” cried her +sister, stamping her foot. “Especially about +father.”</p> + +<p>The older girl put her arms about ’Phemie and +the latter began to weep on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Don’t let us hide our true beliefs from each +other,” whispered Lyddy, brokenly. “Father is +<i>not</i> mending–not as we hoped he would, at least. +And yet the hospital doctor told Aunt Jane that +there was absolutely nothing medicine could do +for him.”</p> + +<p>“I know! I know!” sobbed ’Phemie. “But +don’t let’s talk about it. He is so brave himself. +He talks just as though he was gaining every day; +but his step is so feeble―”</p> + +<p>“And he has no color,” groaned Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“But, anyhow,” ’Phemie pursued, wiping her +eyes, her flurry of tears quickly over, as was her +nature, “there is one good thing.”</p> + +<p>“What is that?”</p> + +<p>“He doesn’t lose hope himself. And <i>we</i> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span> +mustn’t lose it, either. Of course things will +come out right–even the boarders will come.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t know that,” said Lyddy, shaking +her head again.</p> + +<p>“How about the woman who wrote you a +second time?” queried ’Phemie. “Mrs. Castle. +I bet <i>she</i> comes next week.”</p> + +<p>And ’Phemie was right in <i>that</i> prophecy. They +had Lucas meet the train for Mrs. Castle on Saturday, +and ’Phemie went with him. There were +supplies to buy for the house and the young girl +made her purchases before train time.</p> + +<p>A little old lady in a Paisley shawl and black, +close bonnet, got out of the train. The porter +lifted down an ancient carpet-bag–something +’Phemie had never in her life seen before. Even +Lucas was amazed by the little old woman’s outfit.</p> + +<p>“By cracky!” he whispered to ’Phemie. +“You reckon <i>that’s</i> the party? Why, she’s +dressed more behind the times than my grandmother +useter be. Guess there must be places on +this airth more countrified than Bridleburg.”</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie knew that Mrs. Castle’s letter had +come from an address in Easthampton which the +Brays knew to be in a very good neighborhood. +Nobody but wealthy people lived on that street. +Yet Mrs. Castle–aside from the valuable but old-fashioned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +shawl–did not look to be worth any +great fortune.</p> + +<p>“Are you the girl who wrote to me?” asked +the old lady, briskly, when ’Phemie came forward +to take the carpet-bag.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Castle’s voice was very resonant; she had +sharp blue eyes behind her gold-bowed spectacles; +and she clipped her words and sentences in a +manner that belied her age and appearance.</p> + +<p>“No, ma’am,” said ’Phemie, doubtfully. “It +was my sister who wrote. <i>I</i> am Euphemia Bray.”</p> + +<p>“Ha! And what is your sister’s name? +What does the ‘L’ stand for?”</p> + +<p>“Lydia.”</p> + +<p>“Good!” ejaculated this strange old lady. +“Then I’ll ride out to the farm with you. Such +good, old-fashioned names promise just what your +sister said: An old-fashioned house and old-time +ways. If ‘L!’ had meant ‘Lillie,’ or ‘Luella,’ +or ‘Lilas’–and if <i>you</i>, young lady, had been +called ‘Marie’–I’d have taken the very next +train back to town.”</p> + +<p>’Phemie could only stare and nod. In her +secret thoughts she told herself that this queer +old woman was doubtless a harmless lunatic. She +did not know whether it was quite best to have +Lucas drive them to Hillcrest or not.</p> + +<p>“You got a trunk, ma’am?” asked the long-legged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +youth, as the old lady hopped youthfully +into the buckboard, and ’Phemie lifted in the +heavy carpet-bag.</p> + +<p>“No, I haven’t. This is no fashionable boarding +house I’m going to, I s’pose?” she added, eyeing +’Phemie sternly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, ma’am!” returned the girl.</p> + +<p>“Then I’ve got enough with me in this bag, +and on my back, to last me a fortnight. If I +like, I’ll send for something more, then.”</p> + +<p>She certainly knew her own mind, this old lady. +’Phemie had first thought her to be near the three-score-and-ten +mark; but every moment she seemed +to get younger. Her face was wrinkled, but they +were fine wrinkles, and her coloring made her +look like a withered russet apple. Out of this +golden-brown countenance the blue eyes sparkled +in a really wonderful way.</p> + +<p>“But I don’t care,” thought ’Phemie, as they +clattered out of town. “Crazy or not, if she can +pay her board she’s so much help. Let the ball +keep on rolling. It’s getting bigger and bigger. +Perhaps we <i>shall</i> have a houseful at Hillcrest, +after all.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span><a id='link_17'></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE RUNAWAY GRANDMOTHER</span></h2> + +<p>But ’Phemie was immensely curious about this +strange little old lady who was dressed so oddly, +yet who apparently came from the wealthiest section +of the city of Easthampton. The young girl +could not bring herself to ask questions of their +visitor–let Lyddy do that, if she thought it necessary. +But, as it chanced, up to a certain point +Mrs. Castle was quite open of speech and free +to communicate information about herself.</p> + +<p>As soon as they had got out of town she turned +to ’Phemie and said:</p> + +<p>“I expect you think I’m as queer as Dick’s +hat-band, Euphemia? I am quite sure you never +saw a person like me before?”</p> + +<p>“Why–Mrs. Castle–not <i>just</i> like you,” admitted +the embarrassed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“I expect not! Well, I presume there are +other old women, who are grandmothers, and +have got all tangled up in these new-fangled notions +that women have–Laws’ sake! I might +as well tell you right off that I’ve run away!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span>“Run away?” gasped ’Phemie, with a vision of +keepers from an asylum coming to Hillcrest to +take away their new boarder.</p> + +<p>“That’s exactly what I have done! None of +my folks know where I have gone. I just wrote +a note, telling them not to look for me, and that +I was going back to old-fashioned times, if I could +find ’em. Then I got this bag out of the cupboard–I’d +kept it all these years–packed it with my +very oldest duds, and–well, here I am!” and +the old lady’s laugh rang out as shrill and clear +as a blackbird’s call.</p> + +<p>“I have astonished you; have I?” she pursued. +“And I suppose I have astonished my folks. But +they know I’m perfectly capable of taking care of +myself. I ought to be. Why, I’m a grandmother +three times!”</p> + +<p>“‘Three times?’” repeated the amazed +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss Euphemia Bray. Three grandchildren–two +girls and a boy. And they are +always telling folks how up-to-date grandma is! +I’m sick of being up-to-date. I’m sick of dressing +so that folks behind me on the street can’t tell +whether I’m a grandmother or my own youngest +grandchild!</p> + +<p>“We just live in a perfect whirl of excitement. +‘Pleasure,’ they call it. But it’s gotten to be a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +nuisance. My daughter-in-law has her head full +of society matters and club work. The girls and +Tom spend all but the little time they are obliged +to give to books in the private schools they attend, +in dancing and theatre parties, and the like.</p> + +<p>“And here a week ago I found my son–their +father–a man forty-five years old, and bald, and +getting fat, being taught the tango by a French +dancing professor in the back drawing-room!” +exclaimed Mrs. Castle, in a tone of disgust that +almost convulsed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“That was enough. That was the last straw +on the camel’s back. I made up my mind when +I read your sister’s advertisement that I would +like to live simply and with simple people again. +I’d like really to <i>feel</i> like a grandmother, and +<i>dress</i> like one, and <i>be</i> one.</p> + +<p>“And if I like it up here at your place I shall +stay through the summer. No hunting-lodge in +the Adirondacks for me this spring, or Newport, +or the Pier later, or anything of that kind. I’m +going to sit on your porch and knit socks. My +mother did when <i>she</i> was a grandmother. This +is her shawl, and mother and father took this old +carpet-bag with them when they went on their +honeymoon.</p> + +<p>“Mother enjoyed her old age. She spent it +quietly, and it was <i>lovely</i>,” declared Mrs. Castle, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +with a note in her voice that made ’Phemie sober +at once. “I am going to have quiet, and repose, +and a simple life, too, before I have to die.</p> + +<p>“It’s just killing me keeping up with the times. +I don’t want to keep up with ’em. I want them +to drift by me, and leave me stranded in some +pleasant, sunny place, where I only have to look +on. And that’s what I am going to get at Hillcrest–just +that kind of a place–if you’ve got it +to sell,” completed this strange old lady, with +emphasis.</p> + +<p>’Phemie Bray scarcely knew what to say. She +was not sure that Mrs. Castle was quite right in +her mind; yet what she said, though so surprising, +sounded like sense.</p> + +<p>“I’ll leave it to Lyddy; she’ll know what to say +and do,” thought the younger sister, with faith +in the ability of Lyddy to handle any emergency.</p> + +<p>And Lyddy handled the old lady as simply as +she did everything. She refused to see anything +particularly odd in Mrs. Castle’s dress, manner, +or outlook on life.</p> + +<p>The old lady chose one of the larger rooms on +the second floor, considered the terms moderate, +and approved of everything she saw about the +house.</p> + +<p>“Make no excuses for giving me a feather bed +to sleep on. I believe it will add half a dozen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +years to my life,” she declared. “Feather beds! +My! I never expected to see such a joy again–let +alone experience it.”</p> + +<p>“Our circle is broadening,” said old Mr. Colesworth, +at supper that evening. “Come! I +have a three-handed counter for cribbage. Shall +we take Mrs. Castle into our game, Mr. Bray?”</p> + +<p>“If she will so honor us,” agreed the girls’ +father, bowing to the little old lady.</p> + +<p>“Well! that’s hearty of you,” said the brisk +Mrs. Castle. “I’ll postpone beginning knitting +my son a pair of socks that he’d never wear, until +to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>For she had actually brought along with her +knitting needles and a hank of grey yarn. It +grew into a nightly occurrence, this three-handed +cribbage game. When Mr. Somers had no +lessons to “get up,” or no examination papers +to mark, he spent the evening with Lyddy and +’Phemie. He even helped with the dish-wiping +and helped to bring in the wood for the morning +fires.</p> + +<p>Fire was laid in the three chambers, as well +as the dining-room, to light on cold mornings, or +on damp days; Lucas had spent a couple more +days in chopping wood. But as the season advanced +there was less and less need of these in +the sleeping rooms.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span>There were, of course, wet and gloomy days, +when the old folks were glad to sit over the +dining-room fire, the elements forbidding outdoors +to them. But they kept cheerful. And not a +little of this cheerfulness was spread by Lyddy +and ’Phemie. The older girl’s thoughtfulness +for others made her much beloved, while ’Phemie’s +high spirits were contagious.</p> + +<p>On Saturday, when Harris Colesworth arrived +from town to remain over Sunday, Hillcrest was +indeed a lively place. This very self-possessed +young man took a pleasant interest in everything +that went on about the house and farm. Lyddy +was still inclined to snub him–only, he wouldn’t +be snubbed. He did not force his attentions upon +her; but while he was at Hillcrest it seemed to +Lyddy as though he was right at her elbow all +the time.</p> + +<p>“He pervades the whole place,” she complained +to ’Phemie. “Why–he’s under foot, +like a kitten!”</p> + +<p>“Huh!” exclaimed the younger sister. “He’s +hanging about you no more than the school +teacher–and Mr. Somers has the best chance, +too.”</p> + +<p>“’Phemie!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t be a grump! Mr. Colesworth is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +ever so nice. He’s worth any <i>two</i> of your +Somerses, too!”</p> + +<p>And at that Lyddy became so indignant that she +would not speak to her sister for the rest of the day. +But <i>that</i> did not solve the problem. There was +Harris Colesworth, always doing something for +her, ready to do her bidding at any time, his +words cheerful, his looks smiling, and, as Lyddy +declared in her own mind, “utterly unable to keep +his place.”</p> + +<p>There never <i>was</i> so bold a young man, she +verily believed!</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span><a id='link_18'></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE QUEER BOARDER</span></h2> + +<p>Spring marched on apace those days. The +garden at Hillcrest began to take form, and the +green things sprouted beautifully. Lucas Pritchett +was working very hard, for his father did not +allow him to neglect any of his regular work to +keep the contract the young man had made with +Lyddy Bray.</p> + +<p>In another line the prospect for a crop was +anxiously canvassed, too. The eggs Lyddy had +sent for had arrived and, after running the incubator +for a couple of days to make sure that +they understood it, the girls put the hundred eggs +into the trays.</p> + +<p>The eggs were guaranteed sixty per cent. fertile +and after eight days they tested them as Trent +had advised. They left eighty-seven eggs in the +incubator after the test.</p> + +<p>But the incubator took an enormous amount of +attention–at least, the girls thought it did.</p> + +<p>This was not so bad by day; but they went to +bed tired enough at night, and Lyddy was sure +the lamp should be looked to at midnight.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span>It was three o’clock the first night before ’Phemie +awoke with a start, and lay with throbbing +pulse and with some sound ringing in her ears +which she could not explain immediately. But +almost at once she recalled another night–their +first one at Hillcrest–when she had gone rambling +about the lower floor of the old house.</p> + +<p>But she thought of the incubator and leaped +out of bed. The lamp might have flared up and +cooked all those eggs. Or it might have expired +and left them to freeze out there in the washhouse.</p> + +<p>She did not arouse Lyddy, but slipped into her +wrapper and slippers and crept downstairs with +her candle. There <i>had</i> been a sound that aroused +her. She heard somebody moving about the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>“Surely father hasn’t got up–he promised he +wouldn’t,” thought ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>She was not afraid of outside marauders now. +Both Mr. Somers and young Mr. Colesworth +were in the house. ’Phemie went boldly into +the kitchen from the hall.</p> + +<p>The porch door opened and a wavering light +appeared–another candle. There was Harris +Colesworth, in <i>his</i> robe and slippers, coming from +the direction of the washhouse.</p> + +<p>’Phemie shrank back and hid by the foot of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span> +the stairs. But she was not quick enough in +putting her light out–or else he heard her +giggle.</p> + +<p>“Halt! who goes there?” demanded Colesworth, +in a sepulchral voice.</p> + +<p>“A–a fr-r-riend,” chattered ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Advance, friend, and give the countersign,” +commanded the young man.</p> + +<p>“Chickens!” gasped ’Phemie, convulsed with +laughter.</p> + +<p>“You’d have had fried eggs, maybe, for all +your interest in the incubator,” said Harris, with +a chuckle. “So ‘Chickens’ is no longer the +password.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, they didn’t get too hot?” pleaded the +girl, in despair.</p> + +<p>“Nope. This is the second time I’ve been out. +To tell you the truth,” said Harris, laughing, +“I think the incubator is all right and will work +like a charm; but I understand they’re a good +deal like ships–likely to develop some crotchet +at almost any time.”</p> + +<p>“But it’s good of you to take the trouble to +look at it for us.”</p> + +<p>“Sure it is!” he laughed. “But that’s what +I’m on earth for–to do good–didn’t you know +that, Miss ’Phemie?”</p> + +<p>She told her sister about Harris Colesworth’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +kindness in the morning. But Lyddy took it the +other way about.</p> + +<p>“I declare! he can’t keep his fingers out of +our pie at any stage of the game; can he?” she +snapped.</p> + +<p>“Why, Lyd!”</p> + +<p>“Oh–don’t talk to me!” returned her older +sister, who seemed to be rather snappish this +morning. “That young man is getting on my +nerves.”</p> + +<p>It was Sunday and the Colesworths had engaged +a two-seated carriage in town to take Mrs. +Castle and Mr. Bray with them to church. There +was a seat beside Mr. Somers, behind Old Molly, +for one of the girls. The teacher plainly wanted +to take Lyddy, but that young lady had not recovered +from her ill-temper of the early morning.</p> + +<p>“Lyd got out of bed on the wrong side this +morning,” said ’Phemie. However, she went +with Mr. Somers in her sister’s stead.</p> + +<p>And Lyddy Bray was glad to be left alone. +No one could honestly call Hillcrest Farm a lonesome +place these days!</p> + +<p>“I’m not sure that I wouldn’t be glad to be +alone here again, with just ’Phemie and father,” +the young girl told herself. “There is one drawback +to keeping a boarding house–one has no +privacy. In trying to make it homelike for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +boarders, we lose all our own home life. Ah, +dear, well! at least we are earning our support.”</p> + +<p>For Lyddy Bray kept her books carefully, and +she had been engaged in this new business long +enough to enable her to strike a balance. From +her present boarders she was receiving thirty-one +and a half dollars weekly. At least ten of it +represented her profit.</p> + +<p>But the two young girls were working very +hard. The cooking was becoming a greater burden +because of the makeshifts necessary at the +open fire. And the washing of bed and table +linen was a task that was becoming too heavy for +them.</p> + +<p>“If we had a couple of other good paying +boarders,” mused Lyddy, as she sat resting on +the side porch, “we might afford to take somebody +into the kitchen to help us. It would have +to be somebody who would work cheap, of course; +we could pay no fancy wages. But we need help.”</p> + +<p>As she thus ruminated she was startled by seeing +a figure cross the field from behind the barn. +It was not Cyrus Pritchett, although the farmer +spent most of his Sabbaths wandering about the +fields examining the crops. Corn had not yet +been planted, anyway–not here on the Hillcrest +Farm.</p> + +<p>But this was a man fully as large as Cyrus +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span> +Pritchett. As he drew nearer, Lyddy thought +that he was a man she had never seen before.</p> + +<p>He wore a broad-brimmed felt hat–of the +kind affected by Western statesmen. His black +hair–rather oily-looking it was, like an Indian’s–flowed +to the collar of his coat.</p> + +<p>That coat was a frock, but it was unbuttoned, +displaying a pearl gray vest and trousers of the +same shade. He even wore gray spats over his +shoes and was altogether more elaborately dressed +than any native Lyddy had heretofore seen.</p> + +<p>He came across the yard at a swinging stride, +and took off his hat with a flourish. She saw +then that his countenance was deeply tanned, that +he had a large nose, thick, smoothly-shaven lips, +and heavy-lidded eyes.</p> + +<p>“Miss Bray, I have no doubt?” he began, recovering +from his bow.</p> + +<p>Lyddy had risen rather quickly, and only +nodded. She scarcely knew what to make of this +stranger–and she was alone.</p> + +<p>“Pray sit down again,” he urged, with a wave +of his hand. “And allow me to sit here at your +feet. It is a lovely day–but warm.”</p> + +<p>“It is, indeed,” admitted Lyddy, faintly.</p> + +<p>“You have a beautiful view of the valley here.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“I am told below,” said the man, with a free +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +gesture taking in Bridleburg and several square +miles of surrounding country, “that you take +boarders here at Hillcrest?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Lyddy again.</p> + +<p>“Good! Your rooms are not yet all engaged, +my dear young lady?” said the man, who seemed +unable to discuss the simplest subject without using +what later she learned to call “his platform manner.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no; we haven’t many guests as yet.”</p> + +<p>“Good!” he exclaimed again. Then, after a +moment’s pursing of his lips, he added: “This +is not strictly speaking a legal day for making +bargains. But we may <i>talk</i> of an arrangement; +mayn’t we?”</p> + +<p>“I do not understand you, sir,” said Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Ah! No! I am referring to the possibility +of my taking board with you, Miss Bray.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” responded the girl, with sudden interest. +“Do you think you would be suited with +the accommodations we have to offer?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, my dear miss!” he exclaimed, with a +broad smile. “I am an old campaigner. I have +slept gypsy-fashion under the stars many and +many a night. A straw pallet has often been +my lot. Indeed, I am naturally simple of taste +and habit.”</p> + +<p>He said all this with an air as though entirely +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span> +different demands might reasonably be expected +of such as he. He evidently had a very good +opinion of himself.</p> + +<p>Lyddy did not much care for his appearance; +but he was respectably–if strikingly–dressed, +and he was perfectly respectful.</p> + +<p>“I will show you what we have,” said Lyddy, +and rose and accompanied him through the house.</p> + +<p>“You do not let any of the rooms in the east +wing?” he asked, finally.</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Neither upstairs nor down. We +probably shall not disturb those rooms at all.”</p> + +<p>Finally they talked terms. The stranger +seemed to forget all his scruples about doing +business on Sunday, for he was a hard bargainer. +As a result he obtained from Lyddy quite as good +accommodations as Mrs. Castle had–and for two +dollars less per week.</p> + +<p>Not until they had come downstairs did Lyddy +think to ask him his name.</p> + +<p>“And one not unknown to fame, my dear +young lady,” he said, drawing out his cardcase. +“Famous in more than one field of effort, too–as +you may see.</p> + +<p>“Your terms are quite satisfactory, I will have +my trunk brought up in the morning, and I will +do myself the honor to sup with you to-morrow +evening. Good-day, Miss Bray,” and he lifted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +his hat and went away whistling, leaving Lyddy +staring in surprise at the card in her hand:</p> + +<div class='center'> +<p><span class='sc'>Prof. Lemuel Judson Spink, M.D.</span><br /> +Proprietor: Stonehedge Bitters<br /> +Likewise of the World Famous<br /> +DIAMOND GRITS<br /> +“<i>The Breakfast of the Million</i>”</p> +</div> <!-- centered --> + +<p>“Why! it’s the Spink man we’ve heard so much +about–the boy who was taken out of the poorhouse +by grandfather. I–I wonder if I have done +right to take him as a boarder?” murmured +Lyddy at last.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span><a id='link_19'></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE WIDOW HARRISON’S TROUBLES</span></h2> + +<p>Later Lyddy Bray had more than “two +minds” about taking Professor Lemuel Judson +Spink to board. And ’Phemie’s “You never +took him!” when she first heard the news on her +return from church, was not the least of the +reasons for Lyddy’s doubts.</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie denied flatly–the next minute–that +she had any real and sensible reason for opposing +Mr. Spink’s coming to Hillcrest to board. +Indeed, she said emphatically that she had never +yet expressed any dislike for the proprietor of +Diamond Grits–the breakfast of the million.</p> + +<p>“My goodness me! why <i>not</i> take him?” +she said. “As long as we don’t have to eat his +breakfast food, I see no reason for objecting.”</p> + +<p>But in her secret heart ’Phemie was puzzled by +what “Jud Spink,” as he was called by his old +associates, was up to!</p> + +<p>She believed Cyrus Pritchett knew; but ’Phemie +stood rather in fear of the stern farmer, as did +his whole household.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span>Only Lyddy had faced the bullying old man +and seemed perfectly fearless of him; but ’Phemie +shrank from adding to the burden on Lyddy’s +mind by explaining to her all the suspicions <i>she</i> +held of this Spink.</p> + +<p>The man had tried to purchase Hillcrest of +Aunt Jane for a nominal sum. He had been +lurking about the old house–especially about the +old doctor’s offices in the east wing–more than +once, to ’Phemie’s actual knowledge.</p> + +<p>And Spink was interested in something at the +back of Hillcrest Farm. He had been hunting +among the rocks there until old Mr. Colesworth’s +presence had driven him away.</p> + +<p>What was he after on the old farm where he +had lived for some years as a boy? What was +the secret of the rocks? And had the mystery +finally brought Professor Lemuel Judson Spink to +the house itself as a boarder?</p> + +<p>These questions puzzled ’Phemie greatly. But +she wouldn’t put them before her sister. If Lyddy +was not suspicious, let her remain so.</p> + +<p>It was their duty to take all the boarders they +could get. Mr. Spink added his quota to their +profits. ’Phemie was just as eager as Lyddy to +keep father on the farm and out of the shop that +had so nearly proved fatal to him.</p> + +<p>“So there’s no use in refusing to swallow the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span> +breakfast food magnate,” decided ’Phemie. +“We’ll down him, and if we have to make a face +at the bitter dose, all right!”</p> + +<p>Professor Spink came the very next evening. +He was a distinct addition to the party at supper. +Indeed, his booming voice, his well rounded +periods, his unctuous manner, his frock coat, and +his entire physical and mental make-up seemed to +dominate the dining-room.</p> + +<p>Mr. Colesworth listened to his supposedly +scientific jargon with a quiet smile; the geologist +plainly sized up Professor Spink for the quack +he was. Mr. Bray tried to be a polite listener +to all the big man said.</p> + +<p>The girls were utterly silenced by the ever-flowing +voice of the ex-medicine show lecturer; +but Mr. Somers was inclined to argue on a point +or two with Professor Spink. This, however, +only made the man “boom” the louder.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Castle seemed willing to listen to the +Professor’s verbosity and agreed with all he said. +She was willing after supper to withdraw from +the usual cribbage game and play “enthralled +audience” for the ex-lecturer’s harangues.</p> + +<p>He boomed away at her upon a number of +subjects, while she placidly nodded acquiescence +and made her knitting needles flash–and he +talked, and talked, and talked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span>When the little old lady retired to bed Lyddy +went to her room, as she usually did, to see if she +was comfortable for the night.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid our new guest rather bored you, +Mrs. Castle?” Lyddy ventured.</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, Lydia,” replied the old lady, +promptly, “his talk is very soothing; and I can +knit with perfect assurance that I shall not miss +count while he is talking–for I don’t really listen +to a word he says!”</p> + +<p>Professor Spink did not, however, make himself +offensive. He only seemed likely to become +a dreadful bore.</p> + +<p>During the day he wandered about the farm–a +good deal like Mr. Colesworth. Only he did +not carry with him a little hammer and bag.</p> + +<p>’Phemie wondered if the professor had not +come here to board for the express purpose of +continuing his mysterious search at the back of +the farm without arousing either objection or comment.</p> + +<p>He watched Mr. Colesworth, too. There +could be no doubt of that. When the old geologist +started out with his hammer and bag, the +professor trailed him. But the two never went +together.</p> + +<p>Mr. Colesworth often brought in curious specimens +of rock; but he said frankly that he had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span> +come across no mineral of value on the farm in +sufficient quantities to promise the owner returns +for mining the ore.</p> + +<p>Aunt Jane, too, had said that the rocks back +of Hillcrest had been examined by geologists +time and again. There was no mineral treasure +on the farm. <i>That</i> was surely not the secret of +the rocks–and it wasn’t mineral Professor Spink +was after.</p> + +<p>But the week passed without ’Phemie’s having +studied out a single sensible idea about the matter. +Friday was a very hard and busy day for the +girls. It was the big baking day of the week. +They made a fire twice in the big brick oven, and +left two pots of beans in it over night.</p> + +<p>“But there’s enough in the larder to last over +Sunday, thanks be!” sighed ’Phemie, when she +and Lyddy crept to bed.</p> + +<p>“I hope so. What a lot they do eat!” said +Lyddy, sleepily.</p> + +<p>“A double baking of bread. A dozen apple +pies; four squash pies; and an extra lemon-meringue +for Sunday dinner. Oh, dear, Lyd! +I wish you’d let me go and ask Maw Pritchett +for her Dutch oven.”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied the older sister, drowsily. +“We will not risk a refusal. Besides, Mr. +Somers said something about an old lady over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span> +the ridge–beyond the chapel–who is selling out–or +being sold out–Mrs. Harrison. Maybe she +has something of the kind that she will sell +cheap.”</p> + +<p>“Well–that–old–brick–oven–is–kill–ing–me!” +yawned ’Phemie, and then was sound +asleep in half a minute.</p> + +<p>The next morning, however, the girls hustled +about as rapidly as possible and when Lucas drove +up with young Mr. Colesworth they were ready +to take a drive with the young farmer over the +ridge.</p> + +<p>“We want to see what this Mrs. Harrison has +to sell,” explained Lyddy to Lucas. “You see, +we need some things.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” he agreed. “I’ll take ye. But +whether the poor old critter is let to sell anything +private, or not, I dunno. They sold her real +estate last week, and this sale of household goods +is to satisfy the judgment. The farm wasn’t +much, and it went for a song. Poor old critter! +She is certainly getting the worst end of it, and +after putting up with Bob Harrison’s crotchets +so many years.”</p> + +<p>’Phemie was interested in Mrs. Harrison and +wanted to ask Lucas about her; but just as they +started Harris Colesworth darted out of the house +again, having seen his father.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span>“Hold on! don’t be stingy!” he cried. +“There’s a seat empty beside you, Miss Lyddy. +Can’t I go, too?”</p> + +<p>Now, how could you refuse a person as bold +as that? Besides, Harris was a “paying guest” +and she did not want to offend him! So Lyddy +bowed demurely and young Colesworth hopped +in.</p> + +<p>“Let ’em go, Lucas!” he cried. “Now, this +is what <i>I</i> call a mighty nice little family party–I +don’t see Somers in it.”</p> + +<p>At that Lucas laughed so he could scarcely +hold the reins. But Lyddy only looked offended.</p> + +<p>“Stop your silly giggling, Lucas,” commanded +’Phemie, fearful that her sister would become +angry and “speak out in meeting.” “I want to +know all about this Mrs. Harrison.”</p> + +<p>“Is that where you’re bound–to the Widow +Harrison’s?” asked Harris. “I have been told +that our new friend, Professor Spink, has sold +her out–stock, lock, and barrel.”</p> + +<p>“Is <i>that</i> who is making her trouble?” demanded +’Phemie, hotly. “I <i>knew</i> he was a mean +man.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he was a bad man to go to for money, +I reckon,” agreed Harris.</p> + +<p>“Bob Harrison didn’t mortgage his place to +Jud Spink,” explained Lucas. “No sir! He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span> +got the money of Reuben Smiles, years ago. And +he and his widder allus paid the intrust prompt.”</p> + +<p>“Well–how did it come into Spink’s hands?”</p> + +<p>“Why–I dunno. Guess Spink offered Smiles +a bonus. At any rate, the original mortgage had +long since run out, and was bein’ renewed from +year to year. When it come time for renewal, +Jud Spink showed his hand and foreclosed. They +had a sale, and it didn’t begin to pay the face +of the mortgage. You see, the place had all +run down. Bob hadn’t turned a stroke of work +on it for years before he died, and the widder’d +only made shift to make a garden.</p> + +<p>“Wal, there was a clause covering all personal +property–and the widder had subscribed to it. +So now the sheriff is going to have a vendue an’ +see if he kin satisfy Jud Spink’s claim in full. +Dunno what <i>will</i> become of Mis’ Harrison,” +added Lucas, shaking his head. “She’s quite +spry, if she is old; but she ain’t got a soul beholden +to her, an’ I reckon she’ll be took to the +poor farm.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span><a id='link_20'></a>CHAPTER XX<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE TEMPERANCE CLUB AGAIN</span></h2> + +<p>The boys sat in the buckboard and talked +earnestly while Lyddy and ’Phemie Bray +“visited” with the Widow Harrison. She was +a tall, gaunt, sad woman–quite “spry,” as Lucas +had said; but she was evidently troubled about +her future.</p> + +<p>Her poor sticks of furniture could not bring +any great sum at the auction, which was slated +for the next Monday. She admitted to the Bray +girls that she expected the money raised would +all have to go to the mortgagee.</p> + +<p>“I <i>did</i> ’spect I’d be ’lowed to live here in +Bob’s place till I died,” she sighed. “Bob was +hard to git along with. I paid dear for my +home, I did. And now it’s goin’ to be took away +from me.”</p> + +<p>“And you have no relatives, Mrs. Harrison? +Nobody whose home you would be welcome in?” +asked Lyddy, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“Not a soul belongin’ to me,” declared Mrs. +Harrison. “An’ I wouldn’t ask charity of nobody–give +me my way.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span>“You think you could work yet?” ventured +Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Why, bless ye! I’ve gone out washin’ an’ +scrubbin’ when I could. But folks on this ridge +ain’t able to have much help. Still, them I’ve +worked for will give me a good word. No +<i>young</i> woman can ekal me, I’m proud to say. I +was brought up to work, I was, an’ I ain’t never +got rusty.”</p> + +<p>Lyddy looked at ’Phemie with shining eyes. +At first the younger sister didn’t comprehend what +Lyddy was driving at. But suddenly a light +flooded her mind.</p> + +<p>“Goody! that’s just the thing!” cried ’Phemie, +clasping her hands.</p> + +<p>“What might ye be meanin’?” demanded the +puzzled Mrs. Harrison, looking at the girls +alternately.</p> + +<p>“You are just the person we want, Mrs. Harrison,” +Lyddy declared, “and we are just the +persons <i>you</i> want. It is a mutual need, and for +once the two needs have come together.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t make out what ye mean, child,” returned +the old woman.</p> + +<p>“Why, you want work and a home. We +need somebody to help us, and we have plenty of +space so that you can have a nice big room to +yourself at Hillcrest, and I <i>know</i> we shall get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span> +along famously. Do, <i>do</i>, Mrs. Harrison! Let’s +try it!”</p> + +<p>A blush rose slowly into the old woman’s face. +Her eyes shone with sudden unshed tears as she +continued to look at Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know what you’re saying, child!” +she finally declared, hoarsely.</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear Mrs. Harrison! We need you–and +perhaps you need us.”</p> + +<p>“Need ye!” The stern New England nature +of the woman could not break up easily. Her face +worked as she simply repeated the words, in a +tone that brought a choking feeling into ’Phemie’s +throat: “<i>Need ye!</i>”</p> + +<p>But Lyddy went on to explain details, and bye-and-bye +Mrs. Harrison gained control of her +emotions. Lyddy told her what she felt she could +afford to pay.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t great pay, I know; but we’re not +making much money out of the boarders yet; if +we fill the house, you shall have more. And +we will be sure to treat you nicely, Mrs. Harrison.”</p> + +<p>“Stop, child! don’t say another word!” gasped +the old woman. “Of course, I’ll come. Why–you +don’t know what you’re doing for me―”</p> + +<p>“No; we’re doing for ourselves,” laughed +Lyddy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span>“You’re givin’ me a chance to be independent,” +cried Mrs. Harrison. “That’s the greatest thing +in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it?” returned Lyddy, sweetly. “I +think so. That’s what we are trying to do ourselves. +So you’ll come?”</p> + +<p>“Sure as I’m alive, Miss,” declared the old +woman. “Ye need have no fear I won’t. +I’ll be over in time to help ye with supper Monday +night. And wait till Tuesday with your washin’. +I’m a good washer, if I <i>do</i> say it as shouldn’t.”</p> + +<p>The young folks drove back to Hillcrest much +more gaily than they had come. At least, ’Phemie +and Lucas were very gay on the front seat. +Harris Colesworth said to Lyddy:</p> + +<p>“Lucas has been giving me the full history of +the Widow Harrison’s troubles. And her being +sold out of house and home isn’t the worst she’s +been through.”</p> + +<p>“No?”</p> + +<p>“The man she married–late in life–was a +Tartar, I tell you! Just as cranky and mean as +he could be. Everybody thought he was an old +soldier. He was away from here all during the +Civil War–from ’61 to ’65–and folks supposed +he’d get a pension, and that his widow would have +<i>something</i> for her trouble of marrying and living +with the old grouch.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span>“But it seems he never enlisted at all. He was +just a sutler, or camp follower, or something. +He couldn’t get a pension. And he let folks think +that he had brought home a lot of money, and had +hidden it; but when he died two years ago Mrs. +Harrison didn’t find a penny. He’d just mortgaged +the old place, and they’d been living on the +money he got that way.”</p> + +<p>“It seems too bad she should lose everything,” +agreed Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“I am going to stay over Monday and go to +the vendue,” said Harris. “Lucas says she has +a few pieces of furniture that maybe I’d like to +have–a chest of drawers, and a desk―”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes! I saw them,” responded Lyddy, +“And she’s got some kitchen things I’d like to +have, too. I <i>need</i> her Dutch oven.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I say, Miss Lyddy!” he exclaimed, +eagerly, yet bashfully, “you’re not going to try to +cook over that open fire all this summer? It will +kill you.”</p> + +<p>“I <i>do</i> need a stove–a big range,” admitted +the young girl. “But I don’t see how―”</p> + +<p>“Let me lend you the money!” exclaimed +Harris. “See! I’ll pay you ahead for father +and me as many weeks as you like―”</p> + +<p>“I most certainly shall not accept your offer, +Mr. Colesworth!” declared Lyddy, immediately +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +on guard again with this too friendly young man. +“Of course, I am obliged to you; but I could not +think of it.”</p> + +<p>She chilled his ardor on this point so successfully +that Harris scarcely dared suggest that they +four go to the Temperance Club meeting at the +schoolhouse that night. Evidently Lucas and he +had talked it over, and were anxious to have the +girls go. ’Phemie welcomed the suggestion +gladly, too. And feeling that she had too sharply +refused Mr. Colesworth’s kindly suggestion regarding +the kitchen range, Lyddy graciously +agreed to go.</p> + +<p>Mr. Somers, the school teacher, was possibly +somewhat offended because Lyddy had refused to +accompany <i>him</i> to the club meeting; but for once +Lyddy took her own way without so much regard +for the possible “feelings” of other people. The +teacher could not comfortably take both her and +’Phemie in his buggy; and why offend Lucas Pritchett, +who was certainly their loyal friend and +helper?</p> + +<p>So when the ponies and buckboard appeared +after supper the two girls were in some little +flutter of preparation. Old Mr. Colesworth and +Grandma Castle (as she loved to have the girls +call her) were on the porch to see the party off.</p> + +<p>The girls had worked so very hard these past +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span> +few weeks that they were both eager for a little +fun. Even Lyddy admitted that desire now. +Since their first venture to the schoolhouse and +to the chapel, Lyddy had met very few of the +young people. And ’Phemie had not been about +much.</p> + +<p>Since Sairy Pritchett and her mother had put +their social veto on the Bray girls the young people +of the community–the girls, at least–acted very +coldly toward Lyddy and ’Phemie. The latter +saw this more clearly than her sister, for she had +occasion to meet some of them both at chapel and +in Bridleburg, where she had gone with Lucas several +times for provisions.</p> + +<p>Indeed she had heard from Lucas that quite a +number of the neighbors considered ’Phemie and +her sister “rather odd,” to put it mildly. The +Larribees were angry because Mr. Somers, the +school teacher, had left them to board at Hillcrest. +“Measles,” they said, “was only an excuse.”</p> + +<p>And there were other taxpayers in the district +who thought Mr. Somers ought to have boarded +with <i>them</i>, if he had to leave Sam Larribee’s!</p> + +<p>And of course, the way that oldest Bray girl +had taken the school teacher right away from +Sairy Pritchett―</p> + +<p>’Phemie thought all this was funny. Yet she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span> +was glad Lyddy had not heard much of it, for +Lyddy’s idea of fun did not coincide with such +gossip and ill-natured criticisms.</p> + +<p>’Phemie was not, however, surprised by the cold +looks and lack of friendly greeting that met them +when they came to the schoolhouse this evening. +Mr. Somers had got there ahead of them. There +was much whispering when the Bray girls came +in with Harris Colesworth, and ’Phemie overheard +one girl whisper:</p> + +<p>“Guess Mr. Somers got throwed down, too. +I see she’s got a new string to her bow!”</p> + +<p>“Now, if Lyddy hears such talk as that she’ll +be really hurt,” thought ’Phemie. “I really wish +we hadn’t come.”</p> + +<p>But they were in their seats then, with Harris +beside Lyddy and Lucas beside herself. There +didn’t seem to be any easy way of getting out of +the place.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span><a id='link_21'></a>CHAPTER XXI<br /><span class='h2fs'>CAUGHT</span></h2> + +<p>Nettie Meyers was there–Joe Badger’s +buxom friend. She stared hard at ’Phemie and +her sister, and then tossed her head. But Mr. +Badger came over particularly to speak to the +girls.</p> + +<p>Sairy Pritchett was very much in evidence. +She sat with half a dozen other young women +and by their looks and laughter they were evidently +commenting unfavorably upon the Bray +girls’ appearance and character.</p> + +<p>Lyddy bowed pleasantly to Mr. Badger and the +other young men who spoke to her; but she gave +her main attention to Harris. But ’Phemie noted +all the sidelong glances, the secret whispering, the +bold and harsh words. She was very sorry they +had come.</p> + +<p>Alone, ’Phemie could have given these girls “as +good as they sent.” Young as she was, her experience +among common-minded girls like these +had prepared her to hold her own with them. +There had been many unpleasant happenings in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span> +the millinery shop where she had worked, of +which she had told Lyddy nothing.</p> + +<p>Mr. Somers came down from the desk to speak +to the party from Hillcrest before the meeting +opened. But everybody turned around to stare +when he did so, and the teacher grew red to his +very ears and remained but a moment under fire.</p> + +<p>“Hul-<i>lo</i>!” exclaimed Harris Colesworth, under +his breath, and ’Phemie knew that he immediately +realized the situation. The whole membership–at +least, the female portion of it–was +hostile to the party from Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>While the entertainment was proceeding, however, +the Bray girls and their escorts were left +in peace. Sairy Pritchett sat where she could +stare at Lyddy and ’Phemie, and they were conscious +of her antagonistic gaze all the time.</p> + +<p>But Lucas was quite undisturbed by his sister’s +ogling and when there came a break in the +program he leaned over and demanded of her in +a perfectly audible voice:</p> + +<p>“I say, Sairy! You keep on starin’ like that +and you’ll git suthin’ wuss’n a squint–you’ll git +cross-eyed, and it’ll stay fixed! Anything about +<i>me</i> you don’t like the look of? Is my necktie +crooked?”</p> + +<p>Some of the others laughed–and at Sairy. It +made the spinster furious.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span>“You’re a perfect fool, Lucas Pritchett!” she +snapped. “If you ever <i>did</i> have any brains, +you’ve addled ’em now over certain folks that I +might mention.”</p> + +<p>“Go it, old gal!” said the slangy Lucas. +“Ev’ry knock’s a boost–don’t forgit that!”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” commanded ’Phemie, in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“Huh! that cat’s goin’ to do somethin’ mean. +I can see it,” growled Lucas.</p> + +<p>“She is your sister,” admonished ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“That’s how I come to know her so well,” returned +Lucas, calmly. “If she’d only been a boy +I’d licked her aout o’ this afore naow!”</p> + +<p>“About <i>what</i>?” asked the troubled ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Oh, just over her ’tarnal meanness. And +maw’s so foolish, too; <i>she</i> could stop her.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry we came here to-night, Lucas,” +’Phemie whispered.</p> + +<p>And at the same moment Lyddy was saying +exactly the same thing to Harris Colesworth.</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!” said the young chemist, in return, +“don’t give ’em the satisfaction of seeing we’re +disturbed. They know no better. I can’t understand +why they should be so nasty to us.”</p> + +<p>“It’s Lucas’s sister,” sighed Lyddy. “She +thinks she has reason for being offended with me. +But I <i>did</i> hope that feeling had died out by this +time.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span>“You say the word and we’ll get out of here, +Miss Lydia,” urged Harris.</p> + +<p>“Sh! No,” she whispered, for somebody was +painfully playing a march on the tin-panny old +piano, and Mr. Somers was scowling directly +down upon the Hillcrest party to obtain silence.</p> + +<p>“Say! what’s the matter with that Somers chap, +too?” muttered Harris.</p> + +<p>But Lyddy feared that the teacher felt he had +cause for offence, and she certainly <i>was</i> uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>The recess–or intermission–between the two +halves of the literary and musical program, was +announced. This was a time always given to +social intercourse. The company broke up into +groups and chattered and laughed in a friendly–if +somewhat boisterous–way.</p> + +<p>Newcomers and visitors were made welcome at +this time. Nobody now came near the Bray girls–not +even Mr. Somers. Whether this was intentional +neglect on his part or not they did not +know, for the teacher seemed busy at the desk +with first one and then another.</p> + +<p>Sairy Pritchett and the club historian had their +heads together, and the latter, Mayme Lowry, +was evidently adding several items to her “Club +Chronicles,” which amused the two immensely. +And there was a deal of nudging and tittering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span> +over this among the other girls who gathered +about the arch-plotters.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad they’ve got something besides us to +giggle about,” Lyddy confided to her sister.</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie was not sure that the ill-natured +girls were not hatching up some scheme to offend +the Hillcrest party.</p> + +<p>“I believe I’d like to go home,” ventured ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Aw! don’t let ’em chase you away,” exclaimed +the young farmer.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I know: ‘Sticks and stones may break +my bones, but names will never hurt me!’ But +being called names–or, even having names <i>looked</i> +at one–isn’t pleasant.”</p> + +<p>Lyddy heard her and said quickly, her expression +very decided indeed:</p> + +<p>“We’re not going–yet. Let us stay until the +finish.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, by jove!” muttered Harris. “I’d just +like to see what these Rubes would dare do!”</p> + +<p>But girls are not like boys–at least, some girls +are not. They won’t fight fair.</p> + +<p>The Hillcrest party need not have expected an +attack in any way that could be openly answered–no, +indeed. But they did not escape.</p> + +<p>Mr. Somers rang his desk bell at last and called +the company to order. After a song from the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span> +school song-book, in which everybody joined, the +“Club Chronicles” were announced.</p> + +<p>This “history”–being mainly hits on what +had happened in the community since the last +meeting of the Temperance Club–was very popular. +Mayme Lowry was a more than ordinarily +bright girl, and had a gift for composition. It +was whispered that she wrote the “Pounder’s +Brook Items” for the Bridleburg <i>Weekly Clarion</i>.</p> + +<p>Miss Lowry rose and unfolded her manuscript. +It was written in a somewhat irreverent imitation +of the scriptural “Chronicles;” but that seemed +to please the young folks here gathered all the +more. She began:</p> + +<p>“And it came to pass in the reign of King +Westerville Somers, who was likewise a seer and +a prophet, and in the fourth month of the second +year of his reign over the Pounder’s School District, +that a certain youth whose name rhymes with +‘hitch it,’ hitched himself to the apron-strings +of a maid, who was at that time sojourning at +the top of the hill–and was hitched so tight that +you couldn’t have pried the two apart with a crowbar!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, by cracky!” gasped the suddenly ruddy-faced +Lucas. “What a wallop!”</p> + +<p>The paragraph was punctuated with a general +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span> +titter from the girls all over the room, while some +of the boys hooted at Lucas in vast joy.</p> + +<p>Lyddy turned pale; ’Phemie’s countenance for +once rivalled Lucas’s own in hue. But Miss +Lowry went on to the next paragraph, which was +quite as severe a slap at somebody else.</p> + +<p>“Don’t get mad with <i>me</i>, Miss ’Phemie,” +begged Lucas, in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you can’t help it, Lucas,” she said. +“But I’ll never come to this place with you again. +Don’t expect it!”</p> + +<p>The amusing but sometimes merely foolish +paragraphs were reeled off, one after the other. +Sometimes the crowd shouted with laughter; sometimes +there was almost dead silence as Miss Lowry +delivered a particularly hard hit, or one that was +not entirely understood at first.</p> + +<p>“And it came to pass in those days that certain +damsels of the Pounder’s Brook Temperance Club +gathered themselves together in one place, and +saith, the one to the other:</p> + +<p>“Is it not so that the young men of Pounder’s +Brook are no longer attracted by our girls? They +no longer care to listen to our songs, or when +we play upon the harp or psaltery. They pass us +by with unseeing vision. Verily an Easter bonnet +no longer catcheth the eye of the wayward youth, +and holdeth his attention. Selah.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span>“Therefore spake one damsel to the others +gathered together, and sayeth: ‘Surely we are +not wise. The young men of our tribe goeth +after strange gods. Therefore, let us awake, and +go forth, and show the wisdom of serpents and–each +and every one of us–start a boarding +house!’”</p> + +<p>The young men, who had begun to look exceedingly +foolish during this harangue, suddenly broke +into a chorus of laughter. Even Lucas and +Harris Colesworth could not hide a grin, and the +school teacher hid his face from the company.</p> + +<p>The whole room was a-roar. Lyddy and ’Phemie +suffered under the indignity–and yet ’Phemie +could scarcely forbear a grin. It was a coarse +joke, but laughter is contagious–even when the +joke is against oneself.</p> + +<p>Miss Lowry gave them no time to recover +from this <i>bon mot</i>. She went on with:</p> + +<p>“And it was said of a certain young man, as +he rode on the way to Bridleburg, that he was +met by another youth, who halted and asked a +question of the traveler. But the traveler was +strangely smitten at that moment, and all he could +do was to <i>bray</i>.”</p> + +<p>There were no more shots at the Hillcrest folk +after that–at least, if there were, the Bray girls +did not hear them. The “Chronicles” came to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span> +an end at last. Somehow the sisters got away +from the hateful place with their escorts.</p> + +<p>“But don’t ever ask me to go to that schoolhouse +again,” said Lyddy, who was infrequently +angry and so, when she displayed wrath, was +the more impressive. “I think, Lucas, the people +around here are the most ill-mannered and brutal +folk who ever lived. They are in the stone age. +They should be living in caves in the hillside and +be wearing skins of wild animals instead of +civilized clothing.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ma’am,” replied Lucas, gently. “I +reckon it looks so to you. But they have all got +used to Mayme Lowry’s shots–it’s give an’ take +with most of ’em.”</p> + +<p>“There is no excuse–there <i>can</i> be no excuse +for such cruelty,” reiterated Lyddy. “And we +never have done a single thing knowingly to hurt +them.”</p> + +<p>Harris Colesworth was silent, but ’Phemie saw +that his eyes danced. He only said, soothingly:</p> + +<p>“They are a different class from your own, +Miss Lydia. They look on life differently. You +cannot understand them any more than they can +understand you. Forget it!”</p> + +<p>But that was more easily said than done. +Forget it, indeed! Lydia declared when she went +to bed with ’Phemie that she still “burned all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span> +over” at the recollection of the impudence of that +Lowry girl!</p> + +<p>Of course, common sense should have come to +the aid of the Bray sisters and aided them to +scorn the matter. “Overlook it” was the wise +thing to do. But a tiny thorn in the thumb may +irritate more than a much more serious injury.</p> + +<p>Lyddy considered Mr. Somers quite as much +at fault for what had happened at the meeting +as anybody else. He was nominally in charge of +the temperance meeting. On the other hand +’Phemie decided that she would not be seen so +much in Lucas’s company–although Lucas was a +loyal friend.</p> + +<p>The morrow was the first Sunday of the month +of May, and its dawn promised as perfect a day as +the month ever produced. Now the girls’ flower +gardens were made, the vines ’Phemie had planted +were growing, the old lawns about the big farmhouse +were a vernal green and the garden displayed +many promising rows of spring vegetables.</p> + +<p>The girls were up early and swept the great +porch all the way around the house, and set several +comfortable old chairs out where they would +catch the morning sun for the early risers.</p> + +<p>The earliest of the boarders to appear was +Harris Colesworth, wrapped in a long raincoat +and carrying a couple of bath towels over his arm.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span>“I found a fine swimming hole up yonder in the +brook where it comes through the back of the +farm,” he declared to the sisters. “It’s going to +be pretty cold, I know; but nothing like a beginning. +I hope to get a plunge in that brook every +morning that I am up here.”</p> + +<p>And he went away cheerfully whistling. A +moment later ’Phemie saw Professor Spink dart +out of the side door and peer after the departing +Harris, around a corner of the house. The professor +did not know that he was observed. He +shook his head, scowled, stamped his foot, and +finally ran in for his hat and followed upon Harris’s +track.</p> + +<p>“He’s suspicious of everybody who goes up +there to the rocks,” thought ’Phemie. “What +under the sun is it Spink’s got up there?”</p> + +<p>Later in the day–it was an hour or more before +their usual Sunday dinner time–something +else happened which quite chased the professor’s +odd actions out of ’Phemie’s mind–and it gave +the rest of the household plenty to talk about, too.</p> + +<p>The procession of carriages going to Cornell +Chapel had passed some time since when another +vehicle was spied far down the road toward Bridleburg. +A faint throbbing in the air soon assured +the watchers on Hillcrest that this was an automobile.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span>Not many autos climbed this stiff hill to Adams; +there was a longer and better road which did not +touch Bridleburg and the Pounder’s Brook District +at all. But this big touring car came pluckily +up the hill, and it did not slow down until it +reached the bottom of the Hillcrest lane.</p> + +<p>There were several people in the car, and one, +a lithe and active youth, leaped out and ran up +the lane. Plainly he came to ask a question, for +he dashed across the front yard toward where +the family party were sitting on the porch.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I say,” he began, doffing his cap to the +girls, “can you tell a fellow―”</p> + +<p>His gaze had wandered, and now his speech +trailed off into silence and his eyes grew as large +as saucers. He was staring at the placidly-knitting +Mrs. Castle, who sat listening to the Professor’s +booming voice.</p> + +<p>“Grandma! Great–jumping–horse–chestnuts!” +the youth yelled.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Castle dropped her ball of yarn, and it +went rolling down the steps into the grass. She +laid down her knitting, took off the spectacles and +wiped them, and them put them on again the better +to see the amazed youth below her.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she said, at length, “I guess I’m +caught.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span><a id='link_22'></a>CHAPTER XXII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE HIDDEN TREASURE</span></h2> + +<p>“I’m going to call up the governor–and mom–and +Lucy–and Jinny,” gasped the young fellow, +who had so suddenly laid claim to being +Mrs. Castle’s grandson. “I just want them to +<i>see</i> you, Grandma. Why–why, <i>where</i> did you +ever get those duds? And for all the world!–<i>you’re +knitting!</i>”</p> + +<p>“You can call ’em up, Tommy,” said the old +lady, placidly. “I’ve got the bit in my teeth +now, and I’m going to stay.”</p> + +<p>“Can we drive in here?” asked Master Tom, +quickly, of the girls, whom he instinctively knew +were in charge.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Lyddy. “Of course any friends +of Mrs. Castle’s will be welcome.”</p> + +<p>Tom sang out for the chauffeur to turn into the +lane, and in a minute or two the motor party +stopped in the grass-grown driveway within plain +view of the people on the porch.</p> + +<p>“Will you look at who’s here?” demanded +Master Tom, standing with his legs wide apart +and waving his arms excitedly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span>The rather stout, ruddy-faced man reading the +Sunday paper dropped the sheet and gazed across +at the bridling old lady.</p> + +<p>“Why, Mother!” he cried.</p> + +<p>“Grandma–if it isn’t!” exclaimed one young +lady, who was about nineteen.</p> + +<p>“Mother Castle!” gasped the lady who sat +beside Mr. Castle on the rear seat.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Grandma!” shouted the other girl, +who was younger than Tom.</p> + +<p>“I hope you all know me,” said Grandmother +Castle, rising and leaving her knitting in her chair, +as she approached the automobile. “I thought +some of sending for some more clothing to-morrow; +but you can take my order in to-day.”</p> + +<p>“Mother Castle! what <i>is</i> the meaning of this +masquerade?” demanded her daughter-in-law, +raising a gold-handled lorgnette through which +to stare at the old lady.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Daughter Sarah,” returned Mrs. +Castle, tartly. “I consider that from <i>you</i> a compliment. +I expect that a gown, fitted to my age +and position in life, <i>does</i> look like a fancy dress +to you.”</p> + +<p>“Ho, ho!” roared her son, suddenly doubled +up with laughter. “She’s got you there, Sadie, +I swear! Mother, you look just as your own +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span> +mother used to look. I remember grandma well +enough.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Rufus,” said the old lady, and +there were tears in her eyes. “Your grandmother +was a fine woman.”</p> + +<p>“’Deed she was,” admitted Mr. Castle, who +was getting out of the car heavily. He now came +forward and kissed his mother warmly. “Well, +if you like this, I don’t see why you shouldn’t have +it,” he added, standing off and looking at her +plain dress, and her cap, and the little shawl over +her shoulders.</p> + +<p>The girls and Master Tom had already kissed +her; now Mrs. Castle the younger got down and +pecked at her mother-in-law’s cheek.</p> + +<p>“I’m sure,” she said, “I’ve always done everything +to make you feel at home with us, Mother +Castle. I’ve tried to make you one of the family +right along. And you belong to the same clubs +I do. Surely―”</p> + +<p>“That’s just exactly it!” cried the little old +lady, shaking her head. “I don’t belong in the +same clubs with you. I don’t want to belong to +any club–unless it’s a grandmothers’ club. And +I want simple living–and country air―”</p> + +<p>“And all these Rubes?” chuckled Mr. Castle, +waving his hand to take in the surrounding country.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span>“Quite so, Rufus. But you would better postpone +your criticisms until― Ah, let me introduce +my son, Mr. Colesworth,” she added, as the +old gentleman and Harris appeared from the side +yard. “And young Mr. Harris Colesworth, of +the Commonwealth Chemical Company. Perhaps +you’ve heard of the Colesworths, Rufus?”</p> + +<p>“Bless us and save us!” murmured Mr. Castle. +“You’re from Easthampton, too?”</p> + +<p>The old lady continued to introduce her family +to the Brays, to Mr. Somers, and even to Professor +Spink. The latter came forward with a +flourish.</p> + +<p>“Spink–Lemuel Judson Spink, M.D., proprietor +of Stonehedge Bitters, and Diamond Grits, +the breakfast of the million,” the professor explained, +bowing low before Mrs. Rufus Castle.</p> + +<p>“And these two smart girls I have adopted as +grandchildren, too,” declared the older Mrs. +Castle, drawing Lyddy and ’Phemie forward. +“These are the hard-working, cheerful, kind-hearted +girls who make this delightful home at +Hillcrest for us all.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mrs. Castle makes too much of what +we do,” said Lyddy, softly. “You see, ’Phemie +and I are only too glad to have a grandmother; +we do not remember ours.”</p> + +<p>“And, God forgive me! I’d almost forgotten +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span> +what mine was like,” said Mr. Castle, softly, eyeing +his old mother with misty vision.</p> + +<p>“Well, now!” spoke the old lady, briskly, “do +you suppose you could find enough in that pantry +of yours to feed this hungry mob of people in +addition to your regular guests, Lyddy?”</p> + +<p>“Why–if they’ll take ‘pot luck,’” laughed +Lyddy. “Literally ‘pot luck,’ I mean, for the +piece de resistance will be two huge pots of baked +beans.”</p> + +<p>“And such beans!” exclaimed Grandmother +Castle.</p> + +<p>“And such ‘brown loaf’ to go with them,” +suggested Harris Colesworth.</p> + +<p>“And old-fashioned ‘Injun pudding’ baked in +a brick oven,” added Mr. Bray, smiling. “There +is a huge one, I know.”</p> + +<p>“I am not sure that there wasn’t method in +your madness, Mother,” declared Mr. Castle. +“All this sounds mighty tempting.”</p> + +<p>“And it will taste even more tempting,” declared +the elder Mrs. Castle.</p> + +<p>“Let the hamper stay where it is,” commanded +her son, to the chauffeur. “We’ll partake of the +Misses Bray’s hospitality.”</p> + +<p>The younger Castles, and the gentleman’s wife, +might have been in some doubt at first; but when +they were set down to the long dining table, with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span> +Lyddy’s hot viands steaming on the cloth–with +the flowers, and beautiful old damask, and blue-and-white +china of a by-gone day, and the heavy +silver, and the brightness and cheerfulness of it +all, they, too, became enthusiastic.</p> + +<p>“It’s the most delightful place to visit we’ve +ever found,” declared Miss Virginia Castle.</p> + +<p>“It’s too sweet for anything,” agreed Miss +Lucy. “I hope you’ll come this way in the car +again, Dad.”</p> + +<p>“I reckon we will if Grandma is going to make +this her headquarters–and she declares she’s going +to stay,” said Master Tom.</p> + +<p>“Do you blame her?” returned his father, with +a sigh of plenitude, as he pushed back from the +table.</p> + +<p>“Well! I can’t convince myself that she ought +to stay here; but you’re all against me, I see,” said +their mother. “And, it really <i>is</i> a delightful +place.”</p> + +<p>The Bray girls were proud of their success in +satisfying such a party; and Lyddy was particularly +pleased when Mr. Castle drew her aside and +put a ten-dollar note in her hand.</p> + +<p>“Don’t say a word! It was worth it. I only +hope you won’t be over-run by auto parties and +your place be spoiled. If you have any others, +however, charge them enough. It is better entertainment +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span> +than we could possibly get at any +road house for the same money.”</p> + +<p>And so Lyddy got ten dollars toward her +kitchen range.</p> + +<p>While the ladies were getting into the tonneau, +however, Miss Bray overheard a few words ’twixt +Harris Colesworth and young Tom Castle that +made her suspicious. She came out upon the side +porch to wave them good-bye with the dish-cloth, +and there were Harris and Tom directly beneath +her.</p> + +<p>And they did not observe Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“All right, old man,” Master Tom was saying, +as he wrung the young chemist’s hand. “The +governor and I <i>were</i> a bit worried about grandma, +and your tip came in the nick of time.</p> + +<p>“But,” he added, with a chuckle, “I had no +end of trouble getting Mom and the girls to let +James come up this way. You see, they’d never +been this way over the hill before.”</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Lyddy to herself, when the boys +had passed out of hearing, “here is another case +where this Harris Colesworth deliberately put his–his +<i>nose</i> into other people’s business!</p> + +<p>“He knew these Castles. At least, he knew +that they belonged to grandma. And he took it +upon himself to be a talebearer. I don’t like him! +I declare I never <i>shall</i> really like him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span>“Of course, perhaps grandma’s son and the +rest of the family might be getting anxious about +her. But suppose they’d been nasty about it and +tried to make her go home with them?</p> + +<p>“No. ’Phemie is always saying Harris Colesworth +has ‘such a nice nose.’ It is nothing of +the kind! It is too much in other people’s business +to suit me,” quoth Lyddy, with decision.</p> + +<p>Her opinion of him, however, did not feaze +Harris in the least. Mr. Somers was inclined to +be stiff and “offish” since the previous evening, +but Harris was jolly, and kept everybody cheered +up–even grandma, who was undoubtedly a little +woe-begone after her family had departed–for a +while, at least.</p> + +<p>It was a little too cool yet to sit out of doors +after sunset, and that evening after supper they +gathered about a clear, brisk fire on the dining-room +hearth, and Harris Colesworth led the conversation.</p> + +<p>And perhaps he had an ulterior design in leading +the talk to the Widow Harrison’s troubles. He +said nothing at which Jud Spink could take offense, +but it seemed that Harris had informed himself +regarding the old woman’s life with her peculiar +husband, and he knew much about Bob Harrison +himself.</p> + +<p>“Say–he was a caution–he was!” cried Harris. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span> +“And he kept folks guessing all about +here for years. The Pritchetts say Bob was a +ne’er-do-well when he was a boy―”</p> + +<p>“And that is quite so,” put in Professor Spink. +“I can remember the way the old folks talked +about him when I was a boy about here.”</p> + +<p>“Just so,” agreed Harris. “He made out he +was entitled to a pension from the government, +for years. And he always told folks he had +brought a fortune home from the war with him. +Let on that he had hidden it about the house, too.”</p> + +<p>Professor Spink’s eyes snapped, and he leaned +forward.</p> + +<p>“You don’t reckon there is anything in that +story; do you, Mr. Colesworth?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Why–I don’t–know,” said Harris, slowly, +but with a perfectly grave face. “As I make it +out, when the old fellow died the widow made +search for this hidden treasure he had hinted +at so often; but when the lawyers found out that +he was entitled to no pension–that he’d lied +about <i>that</i>–and that about all he had left her was +a mortgage on the place, Mrs. Harrison gave up +the search for money in disgust. She said as he’d +lied about the pension, and about other things, +why, of course he’d lied about the hidden treasure.”</p> + +<p>“And don’t you think he did?” asked Spink, +with so much interest that the others were amused.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span>“Humph!” responded Harris, gravely. “I +don’t know. He <i>might</i> have hidden bonds–or +deeds–or even bank notes.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!” exclaimed Mr. Bray, laughing. +“That’s imagination.”</p> + +<p>“You need not mind, Professor,” said old Mr. +Colesworth, sharply. “If there is money, or +treasure, hidden there in the house, or on the +place, and you have bid the place in, as I understand +you have, it will be ‘treasure trove’–it will +belong to you–if you find it.”</p> + +<p>“Ha!” ejaculated Professor Spink, darting the +old gentleman rather an angry glance.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know whether it is altogether talk and +imagination, or not,” said Harris, ruminatively. +“Cyrus Pritchett was with Bob Harrison when +he died. And he says the old man talked of this +hidden money–or treasure–or what-not–up +to the very time be became unconscious. He had +a shock, you know, and it stopped his speech like +<i>that</i>,” and Harris snapped his finger and thumb.</p> + +<p>“It sounds like a story-book,” said Grandma +Castle, complacently.</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t sound sensible,” observed Lyddy, +drily.</p> + +<p>“I’m giving it to you for what it’s worth,” +remarked Harris, good-naturedly. “Mr. Pritchett +was sitting up with Harrison when the old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span> +man had his final shock. Harrison had been +mumbling along to Cyrus about what he wanted +done with certain of his possessions. And he +says:</p> + +<p>“‘There’s that hid away that will be wuth +money–five thousand in hard cash–some day, +Cy.’</p> + +<p>“Those are the words he used,” said Harris, +earnestly, and watching Professor Spink from one +corner of his eye. “He was sitting up, Cy said, +and as he spoke he pointed at― Well,” broke +off Harris, abruptly, “never mind what he pointed +at. He died before he could finish what he was +saying.”</p> + +<p>“Is that the truth, Harris Colesworth?” demanded +’Phemie, regarding him seriously.</p> + +<p>“I got it from Lucas. Then I asked his father. +That is just the way the story was told to me,” +declared the young fellow, warmly.</p> + +<p>“And–and they never found anything?” +asked Mr. Bray.</p> + +<p>“No. They searched. They searched the +old pieces of–of furniture, too. But Mrs. Harrison +gave it up when it was found that Bob had +been such a–a prevaricator.”</p> + +<p>“He probably lied about the fortune,” said Mr. +Bray, quietly.</p> + +<p>“Well–maybe,” grunted Harris.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span>But Lyddy remembered that Harris had +already told her that he proposed to go to the +vendue and buy in several pieces of the widow’s +furniture. Did that mean that Harris really +thought he had a clue to the hidden treasure?</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span><a id='link_23'></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE VENDUE</span></h2> + +<p>Lucas Pritchett drove into the yard with +the two-seated buckboard about nine o’clock the +next forenoon. And, wonders of wonders! his +mother sat on the front seat beside him.</p> + +<p>’Phemie ran out in a hurry. Lyddy was getting +ready to go to the vendue. She wanted +to bid in that Dutch oven–and some other +things.</p> + +<p>“Why, Mrs. Pritchett!” exclaimed the younger +Bray girl, “you are welcome! You haven’t been +here for an age.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pritchett looked pretty grim; but ’Phemie +found it was tears that made her eyes wink so +fast.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t never been here but onct since you +gals came. And I’m ashamed of myself,” said +“Maw” Pritchett. “I hope you’ll overlook +it.”</p> + +<p>“For goodness’ sake! how you talk!” gasped +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Is it true you gals have saved that poor old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +critter from the farm?” demanded Mrs. Pritchett, +earnestly, and letting the tears run unchecked +down her fat cheeks.</p> + +<p>“Why–why―”</p> + +<p>“Widder Harrison, she means,” grunted Lucas. +“It all come out yesterday at church. The +widder told about it herself. The parson got +hold of it, and he put it into his sermon. And +by cracky! some of those folks that treated ye +so mean at the schoolhouse, Saturday night, feel +pretty cheap after what the parson said.”</p> + +<p>“And if my Sairy ever says a mean word to one +o’ you gals–or as much as <i>looks</i> one,” cried +Mother Pritchett, “big as she is an’,–an’, yes–<i>old</i> +as she is, I’ll spank her!”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Pritchett! Lucas!” gasped ’Phemie. +“It isn’t so. You’re making it up out of whole +cloth. We haven’t really done a thing for Mrs. +Harrison―”</p> + +<p>“You’ve thought to take her in and give her a +home―”</p> + +<p>“No, no! I am sure she will earn her living +here.”</p> + +<p>“But none of us–folks that had knowed her +for years–thought to give the poor old critter +a chanst,” burst out the lady. “Oh, I know +Cyrus wouldn’t ’a’ heard to our taking her; and I +dunno as we could have exactly afforded it, for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span> +me an’ Sairy is amply able to do the work; but +our Ladies’ Aid never thought to do a thing for +her–nor nobody else,” declared Mrs. Pritchett.</p> + +<p>“You two gals was ministerin’ angels. I don’t +suppose we none of us really knowed how Mis’ +Harrison felt about going to the poorhouse. But +we didn’t inquire none, either.</p> + +<p>“And here’s Lyddy! My dear, I’m too fat +to get down easy. I hope you’ll come and shake +hands with me.”</p> + +<p>“Why–certainly,” responded Lyddy. “And +I am really glad to see you, dear Mrs. Pritchett.”</p> + +<p>She had evidently overheard some, if not all, +of the good lady’s earnest speech. Harris Colesworth +appeared, too, and Professor Spink was +right behind him.</p> + +<p>“You stopped for me, as I asked you to, +Lucas?” asked the young chemist.</p> + +<p>“Sure, Mr. Colesworth.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Lydia is going, too,” said the young +man.</p> + +<p>“That’ll fill the bill, then, sir,” said Lucas, +grinning.</p> + +<p>“But I say!” exclaimed the professor, suddenly. +“Can’t you squeeze <i>me</i> in? I’m going +over the hill, too.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t see how it kin be done, Professor,” said +Lucas.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span>“But you said you thought that there’d be an +extra seat―”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t know maw was going, then,” replied +the unabashed Lucas.</p> + +<p>“And Somers has driven off to school with +his old mare,” exclaimed Spink.</p> + +<p>“I believe he has,” observed Harris.</p> + +<p>“This is a pretty pass!” and Mr. Spink was +evidently angry. “I’ve just <i>got</i> to get to that +vendue.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid you’ll have to walk–and it’s advertised +to begin in ha’f an hour,” quoth Lucas.</p> + +<p>“Say! where’s your other rig?” demanded the +professor. “I’ll hire it.”</p> + +<p>“Dad’s plowin’ with the big team,” said Lucas, +flicking the backs of the ponies with his whip, as +they started, “and our old mare is lame. Gid-up!</p> + +<p>“That Jud Spink is gittin’ jest as pop’lar ’round +here as a pedlar sellin’ mustard plasters in the +lower regions!” observed young Pritchett, as they +whirled out of the yard.</p> + +<p>“Why, Lucas Pritchett! how you talk!” +gasped his mother.</p> + +<p>The widow’s auction sale–or “vendue”–brought +together, as such affairs usually do in the +country, more people, and aroused a deal more interest, +than does a funeral.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span>There was a goodly crowd before the little +house, or moving idly through the half-dismantled +lower rooms when Lucas halted the ponies to let +Harris and the ladies out.</p> + +<p>To Lyddy’s surprise, the women present–or +most of them–welcomed her with more warmth +than she had experienced in a greeting since she +and her sister had first come to Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>But the auctioneer began to put up the household +articles for sale very soon and that relieved +Lyddy of some embarrassment in meeting these +folk who so suddenly had veered toward her.</p> + +<p>There were only a few things the girl could +afford to buy. The Dutch oven was the most important; +and fortunately most of the farmers’ +wives had stoves in their kitchens, so there was +not much bidding. Lyddy had it nocked down +to her for sixty cents.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harrison seemed very sad to see some of +her things go, and Lyddy believed that every +article that the widow seemed particularly anxious +about, young Harris Colesworth bid in.</p> + +<p>At least, he bought a bureau, a worktable, an +old rocking chair with stuffed back and cushion, +and last of all an old, age-darkened, birdseye +maple desk, which seemed shaky and half-ready +to fall to pieces.</p> + +<p>“That article ought to bring ye in a forchune, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span> +Mr. Colesworth,” declared the auctioneer, cheerfully. +“That’s where they say Bob hid his +forchune–yessir!”</p> + +<p>“And it looks–from the back of it–that +worms had got inter the forchune,” chuckled one +of the farmers, as the wood-worm dust rattled out +of the old contraption when Harris and Lucas carried +it out and set it down with the other articles +Harris had bought.</p> + +<p>“So you got it; did you, young man?” snarled +a voice behind the two youths, and there stood +Professor Spink.</p> + +<p>He was much heated, his boots and trousers +were muddy, and his frock coat had a bad, three-cornered +tear in it. Evidently he had come across +lots–and he had hurried.</p> + +<p>“Why–were you interested in that old desk I +bought in?” asked Harris with a grin.</p> + +<p>“I’ll give ye a dollar for your bargain,” blurted +out the professor.</p> + +<p>“I tell you honest, I didn’t pay but two dollars +for it,” replied Harris.</p> + +<p>“I’ll double it–give you four.”</p> + +<p>“No. I guess I’ll keep it.”</p> + +<p>“Five,” snapped the breakfast food magnate.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” responded Harris, turning away.</p> + +<p>“Good work! keep it up!” Lyddy heard Lucas +whisper to the other youth. “I bet I kin tell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +jest what dad told him. Dad’s jest close-mouthed +enough to make the professor fidgetty. He begins +to believe it all now.”</p> + +<p>“Shut up!” warned Harris.</p> + +<p>The next moment the anxious professor was at +him again.</p> + +<p>“I want that desk, Colesworth. I’ll give you +ten dollars for it–fifteen!”</p> + +<p>“Say,” said Harris, in apparent disgust, “I’ll +tell you the truth; I bought that desk–and these +other things–to give back to old Mrs. Harrison. +She seemed to set store by them.”</p> + +<p>“Ha!”</p> + +<p>“Now, the desk is hers. If she wants to sell +it for twenty-five dollars―”</p> + +<p>“You hush up! I’ll make my own bargain +with her,” growled the professor.</p> + +<p>“No you won’t, by jove!” exclaimed the city +youth. “If you want the desk you’ll pay all its +worth. Hey! Mrs. Harrison!”</p> + +<p>The widow approached, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“I made up my mind,” said Harris, hurriedly, +“that I’d give you these things here. You +might like to have them in your room at Hillcrest.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, young man!” returned the +widow, flushing. “I don’t know what makes you +young folks so kind to me―”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span>“Hold on! there’s something else,” interrupted +Harris. “Now, Professor Spink here wants to +buy that desk.”</p> + +<p>“And I’ll give ye a good price for it, Widder,” +said Spink. “I want it to remember Bob by. +I’ll give you―”</p> + +<p>“He’s already offered me twenty-five dollars +for it―”</p> + +<p>“No, I ain’t!” exclaimed Spink.</p> + +<p>“Oh, then, you don’t want it, after all,” returned +Harris, coolly. “I thought you did.”</p> + +<p>“Well! suppose I do offer you twenty-five for +it, Mis’ Harrison?” exclaimed Spink, evidently +greatly spurred by desire, yet curbed by his own +natural penuriousness.</p> + +<p>“Take my advice and bid him up, Mrs. Harrison,” +said Harris, with a wink. “He knows +more about this old desk than he ought to, it +seems to me.”</p> + +<p>“For the land’s sake―” began the widow; +but Spink burst forth in a rage:</p> + +<p>“I’ll make ye a last offer for it–you can +take it or leave it.” He drew forth a wad +of bills and peeled off several into the widow’s +hand.</p> + +<p>“There’s fifty dollars. Is the desk mine?” he +fairly yelled.</p> + +<p>The vociferous speech of the professor drew +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span> +people from the auction. They gathered around. +Harris nodded to the old lady, and her hand +clamped upon the bills.</p> + +<p>“Remember, this is Mrs. Harrison’s own +money,” said young Colesworth, evenly. “The +desk was bought at auction for two dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Well, is it mine?” demanded Spink.</p> + +<p>“It is yours, Jud Spink,” replied the old lady, +stuffing the money into her handbag.</p> + +<p>“Gimme that hatchet!” cried the professor, +seizing the implement from a man who stood by. +He attacked the old desk in a fury.</p> + +<p>“Oh! that’s too bad!” gasped Mrs. Harrison. +“I <i>did</i> want the old thing.”</p> + +<p>Spink grinned at them. “I’ll make you both +sicker than you be!” he snarled. “Out o’ the +way!”</p> + +<p>He banged the desk two or three more clips–and +out fell a secret panel in the back of it.</p> + +<p>“By cracky! money–real money!” yelled +Lucas Pritchett. “Oh, Mr. Harris! we done it +now!”</p> + +<p>For from the shallow opening behind the panel +there were scattered upon the ground several +packets of apparently brand-new, if somewhat discolored +banknotes.</p> + +<p>Professor Spink dropped the axe and picked up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span> +the packages eagerly. Others crowded around. +They ran them over quickly.</p> + +<p>“Five thousand dollars–if there’s a cent!” +gasped somebody, in an awed whisper.</p> + +<p>“An’ she sold it for fifty dollars,” said Lucas, +almost in tears.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span><a id='link_24'></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br /><span class='h2fs'>PROFESSOR SPINK’S BOTTLES</span></h2> + +<p>But Professor Lemuel Judson Spink did not +look happy–not at all!</p> + +<p>While the neighbors were crowding around, +emitting “ohs” and “ahs” over his find in the +broken old desk, the proprietor of “the breakfast +for the million” began to look pretty sick.</p> + +<p>“Five thousand dollars! My mercy!” gasped +the Widow Harrison. “Then Bob <i>didn’t</i> lie +about bringing home that fortune when he came +from the army.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a shame, Widder!” cried one man. +“That five thousand ought to belong to you.”</p> + +<p>“Dad got it right; didn’t he?” said Lucas, +shaking his head sadly. “He allus said Harrison +was trying to tell him where it was hid when +he had his last stroke.”</p> + +<p>Harris Colesworth spoke for the first time since +the packages of notes were discovered:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harrison told Cyrus Pritchett that he +had hid away ‘that that would be wuth five thousand.’ +It’s plain what he had in his mind–and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span> +a whole lot of other foolish people had it in their +minds just after the Civil War.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Mr. Colesworth?” cried +Lyddy, who was clinging to the widow’s hand +and patting it soothingly.</p> + +<p>“Why,” chuckled Harris, “there were folks +who believed–and they believed it for years after +the Civil War–that some day the Federal Government +was going to redeem all the paper money +printed by the Confederate States―”</p> + +<p>“<i>What?</i>” bawled Lucas, fairly springing off +the ground.</p> + +<p>“Confederate money?” repeated the crowd in +chorus.</p> + +<p>No wonder Professor Spink looked sick. He +broke through the group, flinging the neat packages +of bills behind him as he strode away.</p> + +<p>“How about the desk, Professor?” shouted +Harris; “don’t you want it?”</p> + +<p>“Give it to the old woman–you swindler!” +snarled Spink.</p> + +<p>And then the crowd roared! The humor of +the thing struck them and it was half an hour +before the auctioneer could go on with the sale.</p> + +<p>“No; I did not know the bills were there,” +Harris avowed. “But I thought the professor +was so avaricious that he could be made to bid +up the old desk. Had he bid on it when it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span> +put up by the auctioneer, however, Mrs. Harrison +would not have benefited. You see, the best +the auctioneer can do, what he gets from the sale +will not entirely satisfy Spink’s claim. But the +money-grabber can’t touch that fifty dollars in +good money he paid over to Mrs. Harrison with +his own hands.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was splendid, Harris!” gasped Lyddy, +seizing both his hands. Then she retired suddenly +to Mrs. Harrison’s side and never said another +word to the young man.</p> + +<p>“Gee, cracky!” said Lucas, with a sigh. “I +was scairt stiff when I seen them bills fall out of +the old desk. I thought sure they were good.”</p> + +<p>“I confess I knew what they were immediately–and +so did Spink,” replied Harris.</p> + +<p>The young folks had got enough of the vendue +now, and so had Mrs. Pritchett. Lucas agreed +to come up with the farm wagon for the pieces +of furniture with which Harris had presented +the Widow Harrison–including the broken desk–and +transport them and the widow herself to +Hillcrest before night.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pritchett was enthusiastic over the girls +taking Mrs. Harrison to the farm, and she could +not say enough in praise of it. So Lyddy was +glad to get out of the buckboard with Harris +Colesworth at the bottom of the lane.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span>“You all talk too much about it, Mrs. Pritchett!” +she cried, when bidding the farmer’s wife +good-bye. “But I’d be glad to have you come +up here as often as you can–and talk on any +other subject!” and she ran laughing into the +house.</p> + +<p>Lyddy feared that Professor Spink would make +trouble. At least, he and Harris Colesworth must +be at swords’ point. And she was sorry now +that she had so impulsively given the young +chemist her commendation for what he had done +for the Widow Harrison.</p> + +<p>However, Harris went off at noon, walking +to town to take the afternoon train to the city; +and as the professor did not show up again until +nightfall there was no friction that day at Hillcrest–nor +for the rest of the week.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Harrison came and got into the work +“two-fisted,” as she said herself. She was a +strong old woman, and had been brought up to +work. Lyddy and ’Phemie were at once relieved +of many hard jobs–and none too quickly, for the +girls were growing thin under the burden they +had assumed.</p> + +<p>That very week their advertisements brought +them a gentleman and his wife with a little +crippled daughter. It was getting warm enough +now so that people were not afraid to come to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span> +board in a house that had no heating arrangements +but open fireplaces.</p> + +<p>As the numbers of the boarders increased, however, +Lyddy did not find that the profit increased +proportionately. She was now handling fifty-one +dollars and a half each week; but the demands +for vegetables and fresh eggs made a big item; +and as yet there had been no returns from the +garden, although everything was growing splendidly.</p> + +<p>The chickens had hatched–seventy-two of +them. Mr. Bray had taken up the study of the +poultry papers and catalogs, and he declared himself +well enough to take entire charge of the +fluffy little fellows as soon as they came from +the shell. He really did appear to be getting on +a little; but the girls watched him closely and +could scarcely believe that he made any material +gain in health.</p> + +<p>With Harris Colesworth’s help one Saturday, +he had knocked together a couple of home-made +brooders and movable runs, and soon the flock, +divided in half, were chirping gladly in the spring +sunshine on the side lawn.</p> + +<p>They fed them scientifically, and with care. +Mr. Bray was at the pens every two hours all +day–or oftener. At night, two jugs of hot water +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span> +went into the brooders, and the little biddies never +seemed to miss having a real mother.</p> + +<p>Luckily Lyddy had chosen a hardy strain of +fowl and during the first fortnight they lost only +two of the fluffy little fellows. Lyddy saw the +beginning of a profitable chicken business ahead of +her; but, of course, it was only an expense as yet.</p> + +<p>She could not see her way clear to buying the +kitchen range that was so much needed; and the +days were growing warmer. May promised to +be the forerunner of an exceedingly hot summer.</p> + +<p>At Hillcrest there was, however, almost always +a breeze. Seldom did the huge piles of rocks at +the back of the farm shut the house off from the +cooling winds. The people who came to enjoy +the simple comforts of the farmhouse were loud +in their praises of the spot.</p> + +<p>“If we can get along till July–or even the +last of June,” quoth Lyddy to her sister, “I feel +sure that we will get the house well filled, the +garden will help to support us, and we shall be +on the way to making a good living―”</p> + +<p>“If we aren’t dead,” sighed ’Phemie. “I <i>do</i> +get so tired sometimes. It’s a blessing we got +Mother Harrison,” for so they had come to call +the widow.</p> + +<p>“We knew we’d have to work if we took +boarders,” said Lyddy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span>“Goodness me! we didn’t know we had to +work our fingers to the bone–mine are coming +through the flesh–the bones, I mean.”</p> + +<p>“What nonsense!”</p> + +<p>“And I know I have lost ten pounds. I’m +only a skeleton. You could hang me up in that +closet in the old doctor’s office in place of that +skeleton―”</p> + +<p>“What’s <i>that</i>, ’Phemie Bray?” demanded the +older sister, in wonder.</p> + +<p>’Phemie realized that she had almost let <i>that</i> +secret out of the bag, and she jumped up with +a sudden cry:</p> + +<p>“Mercy! do you know the time, Lyd? If +we’re going to pick those wild strawberries for +tea, we’d better be off at once. It’s almost three +o’clock.”</p> + +<p>And so she escaped telling Lyddy all she knew +about what was behind the mysteriously locked +green door at the end of the long corridor of the +farmhouse.</p> + +<p>Harris Colesworth, on his early Sunday morning +jaunts to the swimming-hole in Pounder’s +Brook, had discovered a patch of wild strawberries, +and had told the girls. Up to this time +Lyddy and ’Phemie had found little time in which +to walk over the farm. As for traversing the +rocky part of it, as old Mr. Colesworth and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span> +Professor Spink did, that was out of the question.</p> + +<p>But fruit was high, and the chance to pick a +dish for supper–enough for all the boarders–was +a great temptation to the frugal Lyddy.</p> + +<p>She caught up her sunbonnet and pail and followed +her sister. ’Phemie’s bonnet was blue and +Lyddy’s was pink. As they crossed the cornfield, +their bright tin pails flashing in the afternoon sunlight, +Grandma Castle saw them from the shady +porch.</p> + +<p>“What do you think about those two girls, +Mrs. Chadwick?” she demanded of the little lame +girl’s mother.</p> + +<p>“I have been here so short a time I scarcely +know how to answer that question, Mrs. Castle,” +responded the other lady.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you: They’re wonderful!” declared +Grandma Castle. “If my granddaughters had +half the get-up-and-get to ’em that Lydia and +Euphemia have, I’d be as proud as Mrs. Lucifer! +So I would.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the girls of Hillcrest Farm had +passed through the young corn–acres and acres of +it, running clear down to Mr. Pritchett’s line–and +climbed the stone fence into the upper +pasture.</p> + +<p>Here a path, winding among the huge boulders, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span> +brought them within sound of Pounder’s Brook. +’Phemie laughed now at the remembrance of her +intimate acquaintance with that brook the day +they had first come to Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>It broadened here in a deep brown pool under +an overhanging boulder. A big beech tree, too, +shaded it. It certainly was a most attractive +place.</p> + +<p>“Wish I was a boy!” gasped ’Phemie, in delight. +“I certainly would get a bathing suit and +come up here like Harris Colesworth. And +Lucas comes here and plunges in after his day’s +work–he told me so.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me! I hope nobody will come here for +a bath just now,” observed Lyddy. “It would +be rather awkward.”</p> + +<p>“And I reckon the water’s cold, too,” agreed +her sister, with a giggle. “This stream is fed +by a dozen different springs around among the +rocks here, so Lucas says. And I expect one +spring is just a little colder than another!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, look!” exclaimed Lyddy. “There are +the strawberries.”</p> + +<p>The girls were down upon their knees immediately, +picking into their tins–and their mouths. +They could not resist the luscious berries–“tame” +strawberries never can be as sweet as the +wild kind.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span>And this patch near the swimming hole afforded +a splendid crop. The girls saw that they might +come here again and again to pick berries for their +table–and every free boon of Nature like this +helped in the management of the boarding house!</p> + +<p>But suddenly–when their kettles were near +full–’Phemie jumped up with a shrill whisper:</p> + +<p>“What’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Hush, ’Phemie!” exclaimed her sister. +“How you scared me.”</p> + +<p>“Hush yourself! don’t you hear it?”</p> + +<p>Lyddy did. Surely that was a strange clinking +noise to be heard up here in the woods. It +sounded like a milkman going along the street +carrying a bunch of empty bottles.</p> + +<p>“It’s no wild animal–unless he’s got glass +teeth and is gnashing ’em,” giggled ’Phemie. +“Come on! I want to know what it means.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t, ’Phemie―”</p> + +<p>“Well, <i>I</i> would, Lyddy. Come on! Who’s +afraid of bottles?”</p> + +<p>“But <i>is</i> it bottles we hear?”</p> + +<p>“We’ll find out in a jiff,” declared her younger +sister, leading the way deeper into the woods.</p> + +<p>The sound was from up stream. They followed +the noisy brook for some hundreds of +yards. Then they came suddenly upon a little +hollow, where water dripped over a huge boulder +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span> +into another still pool–but smaller than the swimming +hole.</p> + +<p>Behind the drip of the water was a ledge, and +on this ledge stood a row of variously assorted +bottles. A man was just setting several other +bottles on the same ledge.</p> + +<p>These were the bottles the girls had heard +striking together as the man walked through the +woods. And the man himself was Professor +Spink.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span><a id='link_25'></a>CHAPTER XXV<br /><span class='h2fs'>IN THE OLD DOCTOR’S OFFICE</span></h2> + +<p>The two girls, almost at once, began to shrink +away through the bushes again–and this without +a word or look having passed between them. +Both Lyddy and ’Phemie were unwilling to meet +the professor under these conditions.</p> + +<p>They were back at the strawberry patch before +either of them spoke aloud.</p> + +<p>“What <i>do</i> you suppose he was about?” whispered +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“How do I know? And those bottles!”</p> + +<p>“What do you think was in them?”</p> + +<p>“Looked like water–nothing but water,” said +Lyddy. “It certainly <i>is</i> a puzzle.”</p> + +<p>“I should say so!”</p> + +<p>“And there doesn’t seem to be any sense in it,” +cried Lyddy. “Let’s go home, ’Phemie. We’ve +got enough berries for supper.”</p> + +<p>As they went along the pasture trail, the younger +girl suggested:</p> + +<p>“Do you suppose he could be making up another +of his fake medicines? Like those ‘Stonehedge +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span> +Bitters?’ Lucas says they ought to be +called ’<i>Stonefence</i> Bitters,’ for they are just hard +cider and bad whiskey–and that’s what the folks +hereabout call ‘stonefence.’”</p> + +<p>“It looked like only water in those bottles,” +Lyddy said, slowly.</p> + +<p>“And he’s so afraid old Mr. Colesworth–or +Harris–will come up here and find him at work–or +come across his water-bottles,” continued +’Phemie. “Lucky this new boarder–Mr. Chadwick–isn’t +much for long walks. It would keep +old Spink busier than a hen on a hot griddle, as +Lucas says, to watch all of them.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I wish I knew what it meant. It puzzles +me,” remarked Lyddy. “And I never yet +asked Mr. Pritchett about the evening we saw +him and a man whom I now think must have been +Professor Spink at the farmhouse.”</p> + +<p>“Ask him–do,” urged ’Phemie, at last curious +enough to have Lyddy share all the mystery that +had been troubling her own mind since they first +came to Hillcrest.</p> + +<p>“I’ll do so the very first time I see him,” +declared Lyddy.</p> + +<p>But something else happened first–and something +that brought the mystery regarding Professor +Lemuel Judson Spink to a head for the +time being, at least.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span>’Phemie lost the key to the green door!</p> + +<p>Now, off and on, that missing key had troubled +Lyddy. She had seldom spoken of it, for she +had never even known it had been in the door +when the girls came to Hillcrest. Only ’Phemie, +it will be remembered, had the midnight adventure +in the old doctor’s suite of offices in the east +wing.</p> + +<p>Lyddy only said, occasionally, that it was odd +Aunt Jane had not sent the key to the green door +when she expressed all the other keys to her +nieces when the project of keeping boarders at +Hillcrest was first broached.</p> + +<p>At these times ’Phemie had kept as still as a +mouse. Sometimes the key was worn on a string +around her neck; sometimes it was concealed in +a cunning little pocket she had sewn into her skirt. +But wherever it was, it always seemed–to ’Phemie–to +be burning a hole in her garments and +trying to make its appearance.</p> + +<p>After finding Professor Spink filling the bottles +with water up by Pounder’s Brook, the girl was +more than usually troubled about the east wing +and the mystery.</p> + +<p>She moved the key about from place to place. +One day she wore it; another she hid it in +some corner. And finally, one night when she +came to go to bed, she found that the cord on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span> +which she had worn the key that day was broken +and the key was gone.</p> + +<p>She screamed so loud at this discovery that her +sister was sure she had seen a mouse, and she +bounded into bed, half dressed as she was.</p> + +<p>“Where–where is it, ’Phemie?” she gasped, +for Lyddy was as afraid of mice as she was of +rats.</p> + +<p>“Oh, mercy me!” wailed ’Phemie, “that’s +what I’d like to know.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you see it?” cried her trembling sister.</p> + +<p>“It’s gone!” returned ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>Lyddy got gingerly down from the bed.</p> + +<p>“Then I’d like to know what you yelled so for–if +the mouse has disappeared?” she demanded, +quite sternly.</p> + +<p>And then ’Phemie, understanding her, and realizing +that she had almost given her secret away, +burst into a hysterical giggle, which nothing but +Lyddy’s shaking finally relieved.</p> + +<p>“You’re just as twittery as a sparrow,” declared +Lyddy. “I never <i>did</i> see such a girl. +First you’re squealing as though you were hurt, +and then you laugh in a most idiotic way. Come! +do behave yourself and go to bed!”</p> + +<p>But even after ’Phemie obeyed she could not go +to sleep.</p> + +<p>Suppose somebody picked up that key? She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span> +had no idea, of course, where it had been dropped. +Certainly not on the floor of her bedroom. +Some time during the day, inside, or outside of +the house, the key, with its little brass tag stamped +with the words “East Wing,” had slipped to the +ground.</p> + +<p>Now–suppose it was found?</p> + +<p>’Phemie got out of bed quietly, slipped on her +slippers and shrugged herself into her robe. Somebody +might be down there in old Dr. Phelps’s +offices right now.</p> + +<p>And that somebody, of course, in ’Phemie’s +mind, meant just one person–Professor Lemuel +Judson Spink.</p> + +<p>Why had he come to Hillcrest to board, anyway? +And why hadn’t he gone away when he had +been made the topic of many a joke about old Bob +Harrison’s treasure trove?</p> + +<p>For nearly a fortnight now the professor had +stood grimly the jokes and laughing comments +aimed at him by the other boarders. The +presence of Mrs. Harrison, too, in the house, was +a constant reminder to the breakfast food magnate +of how his own acquisitiveness had made him +over-reach himself.</p> + +<p>’Phemie went downstairs, taking a comforter +with her, and went into the long corridor leading +from the west wing entry to the green door. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span> +The girls had never taken the old davenport out +of this wide hall, and ’Phemie curled up on this–with +its hard, hair-cloth-covered arm for a pillow–spread +the quilt over her, and tried to compose +her nerves here within sight and sound of the +east wing entrance.</p> + +<p>Suppose somebody was already in the offices?</p> + +<p>The thought became so insistent that, after +ten minutes, she was forced to creep along to the +green door and try the latch.</p> + +<p>With her hand on it, she heard a sudden sound +from the room nearby. Was somebody astir in +the Colesworth quarters?</p> + +<p>This was late Saturday night–almost midnight, +in fact; and of course Harris Colesworth +was in the house. Sometimes he read until very +late.</p> + +<p>So ’Phemie turned again, after a moment, and +lifted the latch. Then she pushed tentatively on +the door, and―</p> + +<p><i>It swung open!</i></p> + +<p>’Phemie gasped–an appalling sound it seemed +in the stillness of the corridor and at that hour +of the night.</p> + +<p>Often, while the key had been in her possession, +she had tried the door as she passed it while working +about the house. It had been securely locked.</p> + +<p>Then, she told herself now, on the instant, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span> +key had been found and it had been put to use. +Somebody had already been in the old doctor’s +offices and had ransacked the rooms.</p> + +<p>She crossed the threshold swiftly and groped +her way to the door of the second room–the old +doctor’s consulting room. Here the light of the +moon filtered through the shutters sufficiently to +show her the place.</p> + +<p>There seemed to be nobody there, and she +stepped in, leaving the green door open behind +her, but pulling shut the door between the anteroom +and the office.</p> + +<p>There was the old doctor’s big desk, and the +bookcases all about the room, and the jars with +“specimens” in them and–yes!–the skeleton +case in the corner.</p> + +<p>She had advanced to the middle of the room +when suddenly she saw that the door into the +lumber room, or laboratory, at the back, was open. +A white wand of light shot through this open +door, and played upon the ceiling, then upon the +wall, of the old doctor’s office.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span><a id='link_26'></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br /><span class='h2fs'>A BLOW-UP</span></h2> + +<p>’Phemie’s heart beat quickly; but she was no +more afraid than she had been the moment before, +when she found the green door unlocked. There +was somebody–the person who had found the +lost key–still in the offices of the east wing.</p> + +<p>The wand of white light playing about her +was from an electric torch. She stooped, and +literally crawled on all fours out of the range of +the light from the rear doorway.</p> + +<p>Before she knew it she was right beside the +case containing the skeleton. Indeed, she hid in +its shadow.</p> + +<p>And her interest in that moving light–and the +person behind it–made her forget her original +terror of what was in the box.</p> + +<p>She heard a rustle–then a step on the boards. +It was a heavy person approaching. The door +opened farther between the workshop and the +room in which she was hidden.</p> + +<p>Then she recognized the tall figure entering. +It was as she had expected. It was Professor +Spink.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span>The breakfast food magnate came directly +toward the high, locked desk belonging to the +dead and gone physician, who had been a kind +friend and patron of this quack medicine man +when he was a boy.</p> + +<p>’Phemie had heard all the particulars of Spink’s +connection with Dr. Polly Phelps. The good old +doctor had been called to attend the boy in some +childish disease while he was an inmate of the +county poorhouse. His parents–who were +gypsies, or like wanderers–had deserted the boy +and he had “gone on the town,” as the saying +was.</p> + +<p>Dr. Polly had taken a fancy to the little fellow. +He was then twelve years old–or thereabout–smart +and sharp. The old doctor brought him +home to Hillcrest, sent him to school, made him +useful to him in a dozen ways, and began even +to train him as a doctor.</p> + +<p>For five years Jud Spink had remained with the +old physician. Then he had run away with a +medicine show. It was said, too, that he stole +money from Dr. Polly when he went; but the +physician had never said so, nor taken any means +to punish the wayward boy if he returned.</p> + +<p>And Jud Spink had never re-appeared in +Bridleburg, or the vicinity, while the old doctor +was alive.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span>Then his visits had been few and far between +until, at last, coming back a few months before, +a self-confessed rich man, he had declared his +intention of settling down in the community.</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie Bray believed that the false professor +had come here to Hillcrest for a special +object. He was money-mad–his avariciousness +had been already well displayed.</p> + +<p>She believed that there was something on Hillcrest +that Jud Spink wanted–something he could +make money out of.</p> + +<p>She was not surprised, then, to see a short iron +bar in the professor’s hand. It was flattened and +sharpened at one end.</p> + +<p>By the light of the hand-lamp the man went +to work on the locked desk. It was of heavy +wood–no flimsy thing like that one which he had +burst open so easily the day of the Widow Harrison’s +vendue.</p> + +<p>The man inserted the sharp end of the jimmy +between the lid and the upper shelf of the desk. +’Phemie heard the woodwork crack, and this time +she did <i>not</i> suppress a gasp.</p> + +<p>Why! this fellow was actually breaking open +the old doctor’s desk. Aunt Jane had not even +sent <i>them</i> the keys of the desk and bookcases in +this suite of rooms.</p> + +<p>Then ’Phemie had a sudden thought. She was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span> +really afraid of the big man. She did not know +what he might do to her if he found her here +spying on his actions. And–she didn’t want the +lock of the old desk smashed.</p> + +<p>She reached up softly and turned with shaking +fingers the old-fashioned wooden button that held +shut the door of the case beside which she +crouched.</p> + +<p>She remembered very clearly that it had +snapped open before when she was investigating–and +with a little click. The door of this case +acted almost as though the hinges had springs +coiled in them.</p> + +<p>At once, when she released the door, it swung +open–and in yawning it <i>did</i> make a suspicious +sound.</p> + +<p>Professor Spink started–he had been about to +bear down on the bar again. He flashed a look +back over his shoulder. But the corner was +shrouded in darkness.</p> + +<p>’Phemie sighed–this time with intent. She +remembered how she had been frightened so herself +at her former visit to this office–and she +believed the marauder now before her had been +partially the cause of her fright.</p> + +<p>The jimmy dropped from Spink’s hand and +clattered on the floor. He wheeled and shot the +white spot of his lamp into the corner.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span>By great good fortune the ray of the lantern +missed the girl; but it struck into the yawning +case and intensified the horrid appearance of the +skeleton.</p> + +<p>For half a minute Spink stood as if frozen in +his tracks. If he had known the old doctor had +such a possession as the skeleton, he had forgotten +it. Nor did he see any part of the case +that held it, but just the dangling, grinning Thing +itself, revealed by the brilliance of his spotlight, +but with a mass of deep shadow surrounding +it.</p> + +<p>Professor Spink had perhaps had many perilous +experiences in his varied life; but never anything +just like <i>this</i>.</p> + +<p>He might not have been afraid of a man–or +a dozen men; no emergency–which he could talk +out of–would have feazed him; but a man doesn’t +feel like trying to talk down a skeleton!</p> + +<p>He didn’t even stop to pick up the jimmy. He +shut off the spotlight; and he stumbled over his +own feet in getting to the door.</p> + +<p><i>He was running away!</i></p> + +<p>’Phemie was up immediately and after him. +She did not propose for him to get away with that +key.</p> + +<p>“Stop! stop!” she shouted.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Professor Spink verily believed that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281'></a>281</span> +the skeleton in the box called after him–that +it was, indeed, in actual pursuit.</p> + +<p>He didn’t stop. He didn’t reply. He went +across the small anteroom and out of the open +green door.</p> + +<p>But he had made a lot of noise. A big man +with the fear of the supernatural chilling his +very soul does not tread lightly.</p> + +<p>A frightened ox in the place could have made +no more noise. He tumbled over two chairs and +finally went full length over an old hassock. He +brought up with an awful crash against the big +davenport in the corridor, where ’Phemie had +tried to keep watch.</p> + +<p>And there, when he tried to scramble up, he +got entangled in ’Phemie’s quilt and went to the +floor again just as a great light flashed into the +corridor.</p> + +<p>The Colesworths’ door stood open. Out +dashed Harris in his pajamas and a robe. He fell +upon the big body of Spink as though he were +making a “tackle” in a football game.</p> + +<p>“Hold him! hold him!” gasped ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got him,” declared Harris. “What’s +the matter, Miss ’Phemie?”</p> + +<p>“He’s got the key,” explained ’Phemie. +“Make him give it up.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282'></a>282</span>“Sure!” said Harris, and dexterously twitched +the entangled Spink over on his back.</p> + +<p>“By jove!” gasped the young man, standing +up. “It’s the professor!”</p> + +<p>“But he’s got the key!” the girl reiterated.</p> + +<p>“What key?”</p> + +<p>“The one to the green door.”</p> + +<p>“The door of the east wing?” demanded Harris, +turning to stare at the open door, on the +threshold of which ’Phemie stood.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I lost it. He found it. He’s got it +somewhere. I found him trying to break into +grandfather’s desk.”</p> + +<p>“Bad, bad,” muttered Harris, stepping back +and allowing the professor room to sit up. +“Your interest in old desks seems to be phenomenal, +Professor. Did you expect to find Confederate +notes in <i>this</i> one?”</p> + +<p>“Confound you–both!” snarled Spink, slowly +rising.</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind it,” said Harris, quietly. “But +don’t include Miss Bray in your emphatic remarks. +<i>Give me that key.</i>”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283'></a>283</span><a id='link_27'></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THEY LOSE A BOARDER</span></h2> + +<p>Harris had something beside a square and +determined jaw. He had muscular arms and he +looked just then as though he were ready to use +them. Spink gave him no provocation.</p> + +<p>He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a +key.</p> + +<p>“Is this the one, Miss ’Phemie?” asked the +young fellow.</p> + +<p>The girl stepped forward, and in the lamplight +from the bedroom doorway identified the +key of the green door–with its tag attached.</p> + +<p>“All right, then. Go to your room, Professor,” +said Harris. “Unless you want him for +something further, Miss ’Phemie?”</p> + +<p>“My goodness me! No!” cried ’Phemie. +“I never want to see him again.”</p> + +<p>The professor was already aiming for the stairs, +and he quickly disappeared. Harris turned to +the still shaking girl.</p> + +<p>“What’s it all about, Miss ’Phemie?” he +asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284'></a>284</span>“That’s what I’d really like to know myself,” +she replied, eagerly. “He is after something―”</p> + +<p>“So my father says,” interposed Harris. +“Father says Spink has something hidden–or +has made some discovery–up there in the +rocks.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know whether he really has found +what he has been looking for―”</p> + +<p>“And that is?” suggested Harris.</p> + +<p>“I wish we knew!” cried ’Phemie. “But we +don’t. At least, <i>I</i> don’t–nor does Lyddy. But +he tried to buy the farm of Aunt Jane once–only +he offered a very small price.</p> + +<p>“He has been hanging around here for months +trying to find something. He got into the old +offices to-night, and tried to break into grandfather’s +desk―”</p> + +<p>Harris nodded thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“We want to look into this,” he said. “I +hope you and your sister will not refuse my aid. +This Spink may be more of a knave than a fool. +Now, go back to bed and–and assure Miss Lyddy +that I will be only too glad to help ‘thwart the +villain’–if he really has some plan to better himself +at your expense.”</p> + +<p>’Phemie picked up her quilt, locked the green +door, and returned to her room. Throughout +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285'></a>285</span> +all the excitement Lyddy had slept; but ’Phemie’s +coming to bed aroused her.</p> + +<p>The younger girl was too shaken by what had +transpired to hide her excitement, and Lyddy +quickly was broad awake listening to ’Phemie’s +story. The latter told all that had happened, +including her experiences on the night they had +come to Hillcrest. There was no sleep for the +two girls just then–not, at least, until they had +discussed Professor Spink and the secret of the +rocks at the back of the farm, from every possible +angle.</p> + +<p>“I shall tell him that his absence will be better +appreciated than his company–at once!” declared +Lyddy, finally.</p> + +<p>“But sending him away isn’t going to explain +the mystery,” wailed ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>In the morning, before many of the other boarders +were astir, the two girls caught the oily professor +just starting off with a handbag.</p> + +<p>“You’d better get the remainder of your baggage +ready to go too, sir,” said Lyddy, sharply, +“for we don’t want you here.”</p> + +<p>“It’s packed, young lady,” returned Professor +Spink, with a sneer. “I shall send a man for it +from the hotel in town.”</p> + +<p>“Well, <i>that’s</i> all right,” quoth the girl, warmly. +“You’ve paid your board in advance, and I cannot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286'></a>286</span> +complain. But I would like to have you explain +what your actions last night mean?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what you are talking about. I +heard people moving about the house and–naturally–I +went to see―”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you story-teller!” gasped ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Ha! I can see that you have both made up +your minds not to believe me,” said the odd +boarder, haughtily. “Good-morning!”</p> + +<p>“I honestly believe we ought to get a warrant +out and have him arrested,” observed the older +girl, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“What for? I don’t believe he took anything,” +said ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Well! he was trying to break into grandfather’s +desk, just the same,” said Lyddy, and +then Harris Colesworth joined them.</p> + +<p>Now, Lyddy believed that this young man was +altogether too prone to meddle with other +people’s affairs; yet ever since the Widow Harrison’s +vendue she had been more friendly with +Harris.</p> + +<p>And now when he began to talk about the +professor and his strange actions over night, she +could only thank the young chemist for his assistance.</p> + +<p>“Of course, we have no idea that that man +took anything,” she concluded.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287'></a>287</span>“But you know that he is after <i>something</i>. +There is a mystery about his actions–both here +at the house and up there in the rocks,” said +Harris.</p> + +<p>“Well–ye-es.”</p> + +<p>“I have been talking to father about it. +Father has seen him wandering about there so +much. His anxiety not to be seen has piqued +father’s curiosity, too. To tell the truth, that is +what has kept father so much interested in +getting specimens up yonder,” and the young man +laughed.</p> + +<p>“He tells me that he is sure there can be no +great mineral wealth on the farm; yet Spink has +found, or is trying to find, some deposit of value +here―”</p> + +<p>“Do tell him about the bottles, Lyd!” cried +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, that may be nothing―”</p> + +<p>“What bottles?” demanded Harris, quickly. +“Come on, girls, why not take me fully into your +confidence? I might be of some use, you know.”</p> + +<p>“But they were nothing but bottles of water,” +objected Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Bottles of water?” repeated the young +chemist, slowly. “Who had them?”</p> + +<p>“Spink,” replied ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“What was he doing with them?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288'></a>288</span>She told him how they had watched the professor +with his inexplicable water bottles.</p> + +<p>“Foolish; isn’t it?” asked Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Sure–until we get the clue to it. Foolish +to us, but mighty important to Professor Spink. +Therefore we ought to look into it. Father +doesn’t know anything about this bottle business.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s Sunday,” sighed ’Phemie. “We +can’t do anything about the mystery to-day.”</p> + +<p>But her sister was fully roused, and when Lyddy +determined on a thing, something usually came +of it.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, and after she had seen Lucas +and his mother and Sairy drive past on their way +to chapel, she put on her sunbonnet and started +boldly for the neighboring farm, determined to +have an interview with Cyrus Pritchett.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289'></a>289</span><a id='link_28'></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE SECRET REVEALED</span></h2> + +<p>Lyddy did not have to go all the way to the +Pritchett farm to speak with its proprietor. The +farmer was wandering up Hillcrest way, looking +at the growing corn, and she met him at the corner +where the two farms came together.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Pritchett,” she said, abruptly, “I want +to ask you a serious question.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her in his surly way–from under +his heavy brows–and said nothing.</p> + +<p>“You knew Mr. Spink when you were both +boys; didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>The old man’s look sharpened, but he only +nodded. Cyrus was very chary of words.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Spink left Hillcrest this morning. Last +night my sister caught him in the east wing, trying +to break open grandfather’s desk with a burglar’s +jimmy. I am not at all sure that I shan’t have +him arrested, anyway,” said Lyddy, with rising +wrath, as she thought of the false professor’s +actions.</p> + +<p>“Ha!” grunted Mr. Pritchett.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290'></a>290</span>“Now, sir, you know <i>why</i> Spink came to Hillcrest, +<i>why</i> he has been searching up there among +the rocks, and <i>why</i> he wanted to get at grandfather’s +papers.”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t,” returned the farmer, flatly.</p> + +<p>“You and Spink were up at Hillcrest the first +night we girls slept there. And you frightened +my sister half to death.”</p> + +<p>The old man blinked at her, but never said a +word.</p> + +<p>“And you were there with Spink the evening +Lucas took ’Phemie and me down to the Temperance +Club–the first time,” said Lyddy, with +surety. “You slipped out of sight when we drove +into the yard. But it was you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was; eh?” growled Mr. Pritchett.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. And I want to know what it means. +What is Spink’s intention? What does he want +up here?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t tell ye,” responded Pritchett.</p> + +<p>“You mean you won’t tell me?”</p> + +<p>“No. I say what I mean,” growled Pritchett. +“Jud Spink never told me what he wanted. I +was up to the house with him–yep. I let him go +into the cellar that night you say your sister was +scart. But I didn’t leave him alone there.”</p> + +<p>“But <i>why</i>?” gasped Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“I can easy tell you my side of it,” said the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291'></a>291</span> +farmer. “Jud and me was something like chums +when we was boys. When he come back here a +spell ago he heard I was storing something in the +cellar under the east wing of the house. He told +me he wanted to get into that cellar for something.</p> + +<p>“So I met him up there that night. I opened +the cellar door and we went down. I kept a +lantern there. Then I found out he wanted to +go farther. There’s a hatch there in the floor of +the old doctor’s workshop―”</p> + +<p>“A trap door?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And you let him up there?”</p> + +<p>“Naw, I didn’t. He wouldn’t tell me what +he wanted in the old doctor’s offices. I stayed +there a while with him–us argyfyin’ all the time. +Then we come away.”</p> + +<p>“And the other time?”</p> + +<p>“On Saturday night? I caught him trying to +break in at the cellar door. I warned him not +to try no more tricks, and I told him if he did +I’d make it public. We ain’t been right good +friends since,” declared Mr. Pritchett, chewing +reflectively on a stalk of grass.</p> + +<p>“And you don’t know what it’s all about?” +demanded Lyddy, disappointedly.</p> + +<p>“No more’n you do,” declared Mr. Pritchett; +“or as much.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292'></a>292</span>“Oh, dear me!” cried Lyddy. “Then I’m +just where I was when I started!”</p> + +<p>“You wanter watch Jud Spink,” grumbled Mr. +Pritchett, rising from the fence-rail on which he +had been squatting. “Does he want to buy the +farm?”</p> + +<p>“Why–I guess not. He only made Aunt +Jane a small offer for it.”</p> + +<p>“He’ll make a bigger,” said Pritchett, clamping +his jaws down tight on that word, and turned +on his heel.</p> + +<p>She knew there was no use in trying to get more +out of him then. Cyrus Pritchett had “said his +say.”</p> + +<p>When Lyddy got back to the house again she +found that Grandma Castle’s folks had come to +see her in their big automobile, and she and ’Phemie +had to hustle about with Mother Harrison +to re-set the enlarged dining table and make other +extra preparations for the unexpected visitors.</p> + +<p>So busy were they that the girls did not miss +Harris Colesworth and his father. They appeared +just before the late dinner, rather warm +and hungry-looking for the Sabbath, Harris bearing +something in his arms carefully wrapped about +in newspapers.</p> + +<p>“Oh, what have you got?” ’Phemie gasped, +having just a minute to speak to the young man.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293'></a>293</span>“Samples of the water Spink has bottled up +there,” returned Harris.</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. But we’ll find out. Father +has an idea, and if it’s <i>so</i>―”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what?” cried ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“You just wait!” returned Harris, hurrying +away.</p> + +<p>“Mean thing!” ’Phemie called after him. +“You oughtn’t to have any dinner.”</p> + +<p>But there was little chance for Harris to talk +with the girls that day. Before the dinner dishes +were cleared away, a thunder cloud suddenly +topped the ridge, and soon a furious shower fell, +with the thunder reverberating from hill to hill, +and the lightning flashing dazzlingly.</p> + +<p>Behind this shower came a wind-storm that +threatened, for a couple of hours, to do much +damage. Everybody was kept indoors, and as +the night fell dark and threatening the Castles +had to be put up until morning.</p> + +<p>The wind quieted down at last; so did the +nervous members of the party inside Hillcrest. +When Lyddy and ’Phemie thought almost everybody +else was abed but themselves, and they were +about to lock up the house and retire, a candle +appeared in the long corridor, and behind the +candle was Harris Colesworth, fully dressed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294'></a>294</span>“Sunday is about over, girls,” he said, “and +I can’t possibly sleep. I must do something. +Didn’t you tell me, Miss ’Phemie, there were +retorts and test-tubes, and the like, in your grandfather’s +rooms?”</p> + +<p>“In the east wing?” cried Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Why, the back room was his laboratory. All +the things are there,” said the younger girl.</p> + +<p>“Let me go in there, then,” said Harris, +eagerly. “I want to test these samples of water +father and I brought down from the rocks to-day.”</p> + +<p>“My mercy me!” gasped ’Phemie. “You +don’t suppose there’s gold–or silver–held in +solution in that water―”</p> + +<p>Lyddy laughed. “How ridiculous!” she said.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not exactly ridiculous,” returned +Harris, shaking his head, and smiling.</p> + +<p>“Why, Harris Colesworth! who ever heard of +such a thing?” cried Lyddy. “I’m no chemist, +but I know <i>that</i> would be impossible.”</p> + +<p>“Will you let me have the key of the green +door?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Yes!” cried ’Phemie, who had continued to +carry it tied around her neck. “But we’ll go with +you and see you perform your nefarious rites, Mr. +Magician!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295'></a>295</span>Lyddy went for a lamp and brought it, lighted. +“A candle won’t do you much good in there,” +she said to Harris.</p> + +<p>“Verily, it is so!” admitted the young man, +with an humble bow.</p> + +<p>“Now, let me go first!” cried ’Phemie. +“You’d both be scared stiff by my friend, Mr. +Boneypart.”</p> + +<p>“Your friend <i>who</i>?” cried Lyddy.</p> + +<p>Harris began to laugh. “So you claim Napoleon +as your friend; do you, Miss ’Phemie? +What do you suppose old Spink thinks about +him?”</p> + +<p>’Phemie giggled as she ran ahead with the young +man’s candle and closed the door of the skeleton +case in the inner office.</p> + +<p>“For the simple tests I have to make,” said +Harris, as Lyddy’s lamp threw a mellow light into +the room, “I see no reason why those old tubes +won’t do. Yes! there’s about what I want on +that bench.”</p> + +<p>“But, oh! the dust!” sighed Lyddy, trying to +find a clean place on which to set the lamp.</p> + +<p>“Your grandfather must have been something +of a chemist as well as a medical sharp,” observed +Harris, gazing about. “I’m curious to +look this place over.”</p> + +<p>“We ought to ask Aunt Jane,” said Lyddy, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296'></a>296</span> +doubtfully. “We really haven’t any business in +here.”</p> + +<p>“She’s never told us we shouldn’t come,” ’Phemie +returned, quickly.</p> + +<p>“Now you young ladies sit down and keep +still,” commanded Harris, authoritatively, removing +his coat and tying an apron around his +waist–the apron being produced from his own +pocket.</p> + +<p>“Now if you had your straw cuffs you’d look +just as you used to―”</p> + +<p>“At the shop, eh?” finished Harris, when +Lyddy caught herself up quick in the middle of +this audible comment.</p> + +<p>“Ye-es.”</p> + +<p>“So you <i>did</i> notice me a bit when you were +working around the little kitchen of that flat?” +chuckled the young man.</p> + +<p>“Well!” gasped Lyddy. “I couldn’t very +well help remembering how you looked the night +of the fire when you came sliding across to our +window on that plank. <i>That</i> was so ridiculous!”</p> + +<p>“Just so,” responded Harris, calmly. “Now, +please be still, young ladies and–watch the professor!”</p> + +<p>And for an hour the girls did actually manage +to keep as still as mice. Their friend certainly +was absorbed in the work before him. He tested +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297'></a>297</span> +one sample of water after another, and finally +went back and did the work all over upon one +particular bottle that he had brought down from +Spink’s hiding place among the rocks.</p> + +<p>“Just as I thought,” he declared, with a satisfied +smile. “And just as father suspected. Prepared +to be surprised–pleasantly. Your Aunt +Jane must be warned not to sell Hillcrest at <i>any</i> +price–just yet.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, why not?” cried ’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Because I believe there is a valuable mineral +spring on it. This is a sample of it here. Mineral +waters with such medicinal properties as this +contains can be put on the market at an enormous +profit for the owner of the spring.</p> + +<p>“I won’t go into the scientific jargon of it +now,” he concluded. “But the spring is here–up +there among the rocks. Spink knows where it +is. That is his secret. <i>We</i> must learn where +the water flows from, and likewise, see to it that +your Aunt Jane makes no sale of the place until +the matter is well thrashed out and the value +of the water privilege discovered.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298'></a>298</span><a id='link_29'></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br /><span class='h2fs'>AN AUTOMOBILE RACE</span></h2> + +<p>Lyddy was to write to Aunt Jane the next day. +That was the decision when Harris started for +town after breakfast, too. No time was to be +lost in acquainting Aunt Jane with the fact that +the old doctor spoke truly when he had said that +“there were curative waters on Hillcrest.”</p> + +<p>In Dr. Polly Phelps’s day a mineral spring +would have been of small value compared to +what it would be worth now. Jud Spink, of +course, had known something about the old +doctor’s using in his practise the water from +somewhere among the rocks. On the lookout +for every chance to make money in +these days, the owner of “Stonehedge Bitters” +and “Diamond Grits–the Breakfast of the Million” +had determined to get hold of Hillcrest and +put the mineral water on the market–if so be +the spring was to be discovered.</p> + +<p>Too penurious to take any risk, however, Spink +had wished to be sure that the mineral spring was +there, and of its value, before he risked his good +money in the purchase of the property.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299'></a>299</span>The question now was: Had he satisfied himself +as to these facts? Had he found the mineral +spring quite by chance, and was he not still in +doubt as to the wisdom of buying Hillcrest?</p> + +<p>It would seem, by his trying to get at the old +doctor’s papers, that Spink wished to assure himself +further before he went ahead with his scheme.</p> + +<p>“We’ll put a spoke in his wheel–that’s sure,” +said Harris, as he bade the two girls good-bye +that Monday morning, while Lucas and the restive +ponies waited for him.</p> + +<p>In two hours he was back at the farmhouse. +The ponies stopped at the door all of a lather, and +both Harris and Lucas looked desperately excited. +Tom Castle, as well as the Bray girls, ran +out to see what was the matter.</p> + +<p>“He’s off!” shouted Lucas Pritchett. “He’s +goin’ to beat ye to it!”</p> + +<p>“What <i>are</i> you talking about, Lucas?” demanded +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Where does your aunt live, Miss Lyddy?” +asked the young chemist. “Not at Easthampton?”</p> + +<p>“No. At Hambleton. She is at home +now―”</p> + +<p>“And that Spink just bought a ticket for Hambleton, +and has taken the train for that particular +burg,” declared Harris, with emphasis. “If I’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300'></a>300</span> +only been sure of your Aunt Jane’s address I +would have gone with him.”</p> + +<p>“Do you really think he’s gone to try to buy +the farm of her?” questioned Lyddy.</p> + +<p>“I most certainly do. He couldn’t have made +connections easily had he started yesterday after +you drove him away from Hillcrest. But he’s +after the farm.”</p> + +<p>“And she’ll sell it! she’ll sell it!” wailed +’Phemie.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not,” ventured Lyddy, but her lips +were white.</p> + +<p>“He can get an option. That’s enough,” +urged Harris. “We’ve got to head him off.”</p> + +<p>“How?” cried the older girl, clasping her +hands.</p> + +<p>“Jumping horse chestnuts!” ejaculated Tom +Castle. “It’s a cinch! It’s easy. You can beat +that fellow to Hambleton by way of Adams―”</p> + +<p>“But there’s no other train that connects at the +junction till afternoon,” objected Lucas.</p> + +<p>“Aw, poof!” exclaimed Tom. “Haven’t we +got the old buzz-wagon right here? I’ll run and +see father. He’ll let me take it. We’ll go over +the hill and down to Adams, and take the east +road to Hambleton. Why, say! that Spink man +won’t beat us much.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a great scheme, Tommy!” shouted Harris +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301'></a>301</span> +Colesworth “Go ahead. Tell your father +I can run the car, if you can’t.”</p> + +<p>In twenty minutes the big car was rolled out +of the barn, and Mr. Castle came out to see the +quartette off,–the two girls in the tonneau and +Harris and Tom Castle on the front seat.</p> + +<p>“You see that he doesn’t play hob with that +machine, Mr. Colesworth,” called Mr. Castle, +as they started. “It cost me seven thousand +dollars.”</p> + +<p>“What’s seven thousand dollars,” demanded +Master Tom, recklessly, “to putting the Indian +sign on that Professor Spink?”</p> + +<p>They were not at all sure, however, that they +were going to be able to do this. Professor Spink +might easily beat them to Aunt Jane’s residence in +Hambleton.</p> + +<p>But at the speed Tom took the descent of the +ridge on the other side, one might have thought +that the professor was due to board a flying +machine if he wished to travel faster. ’Phemie +declared she lost her breath at the top of the hill +and that it didn’t overtake her again until they +stopped at the public garage in Adams to get a +supply of gasoline.</p> + +<p>The boys behind the wind-break, and the girls +crouching in the tonneau, saw little of the landscape +through which the car rushed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302'></a>302</span>They rolled into Hambleton without mishap, +and before noon. A word from Lyddy put +Master Tom on the right track of Aunt Jane’s +house, for he had been in the town before.</p> + +<p>“We’re here quicker than we could have had +a telegram delivered,” declared Harris, as he +helped the girls out of the car. “I’m going in +with you, Miss Lyddy–if you don’t mind?”</p> + +<p>“Why, of course you shall come!” returned +Lyddy, really allowing her gratitude to “spill +over” for the moment.</p> + +<p>“Me–oh, my!” whispered ’Phemie, walking +demurely behind them. “The end of the world +has now <i>came</i>. Lyd is showing that poor young +man some favor.”</p> + +<p>But ’Phemie, as well as the other two, grew +serious when the girl who opened the door told +them Mrs. Hammond had company in the parlor.</p> + +<p>“Two gentlemen, Miss–on business,” said the +maid.</p> + +<p>Just then they heard Professor Spink’s booming +voice.</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh! he’s here ahead of us!” cried ’Phemie, +and she flung open the door and ran into the +room.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303'></a>303</span><a id='link_30'></a>CHAPTER XXX<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE HILLCREST COMPANY, LIMITED</span></h2> + +<p>“Don’t sign it!” shrieked ’Phemie, seeing +Aunt Jane, her bonnet on as usual, with a pen +in her hand.</p> + +<p>“For the good land’s sake, child! how you +scart me,” complained the old lady.</p> + +<p>“Don’t sign anything, Aunt!” urged ’Phemie. +“That man is trying to cheat you,” and she +pointed a scornful finger at Professor Spink.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, girl?” demanded the +other man present, who was sitting next to Mrs. +Hammond. He looked like what he was–a +shyster lawyer.</p> + +<p>“This girl is crazy,” snarled Spink, glaring at +the party of young people.</p> + +<p>“So are we all, then,” Harris Colesworth responded. +“I assure you, Mrs. Hammond, that +these men are trying to trick you.”</p> + +<p>“I dunno you, young man; but I <i>do</i> know my +own mind. This man, Spink, has finally made +me a good offer for Hillcrest Farm.”</p> + +<p>“And if you don’t sign that paper at once, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304'></a>304</span> +ma’am,” suggested the lawyer, softly, “the deal +is off.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” declared Spink, rising. “I’ve +made my last offer–take it or leave it.”</p> + +<p>“How much do they offer you for the farm, +Mrs. Hammond–if that’s not a rude question?” +demanded Harris.</p> + +<p>“Never <i>you</i> mind!” blustered Spink.</p> + +<p>But Aunt Jane stated the amount frankly.</p> + +<p>“It’s worth more,” said Harris, sharply.</p> + +<p>“I expect it is; but it ain’t worth no more to +me,” replied the old lady, calmly.</p> + +<p>“I’ll raise their offer a hundred dollars,” said +Harris, quickly. “My name’s Colesworth. My +father and I are well known here and in Easthampton. +We are amply able to pay you cash +for the place.”</p> + +<p>“Well, now,” observed Aunt Jane, with satisfaction, +while the girls stared at the young fellow +in wonder, “you are talking business. A hundred +dollars more is not to be sneezed at―”</p> + +<p>“We’ll raise the young man’s bid another +hundred, Mrs. Hammond,” interposed the lawyer, +eagerly. “But you must sign the agreement―”</p> + +<p>“Raise you another hundred,” said Harris.</p> + +<p>The lawyer looked at his client for instructions. +Professor Spink’s face was of an apoplectic hue +and his eyes fairly snapped.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305'></a>305</span>“No, no!” he shouted, pounding one fat fist +into his other hand. “I know this smooth +swindler. He did me once before just this way. +He sha’n’t do it now. He’s got some inside information +about that farm. It’s all off! I +wouldn’t buy the old place now at any price!”</p> + +<p>He grabbed his hat and rushed for the door. +The little lawyer followed, seized his coattails, +and tried to drag him back; but Professor Spink +was the heavier, and he steamed out into the hall, +towing the lawyer, opened the door, and finally +dashed down the steps. He and his legal adviser +disappeared from sight.</p> + +<p>“Well, young man,” said Mrs. Hammond, +calmly, “I expect you know what you have done? +You’ve spoiled that sale for me; I may hold you +to your offer.”</p> + +<p>“If you want to, I shall not worry,” laughed +Harris, sitting down. “But let us tell you all +about it, Mrs. Hammond, and then I believe you +will think twice before you sell Hillcrest at <i>any</i> +price.”</p> + +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Right in that boarding-house parlor was laid +the foundation of the now very wealthy mineral +water concern known as “The Hillcrest Company, +Limited.” But, of course, it was months before +the concern was launched and the wonderfully +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306'></a>306</span> +curative waters of Hillcrest Spring were put upon +the market.</p> + +<p>For once the fact was established that the mineral +spring was there among the rocks at the back +of the farm, it was only a matter of searching +for it.</p> + +<p>The spring was finally located in the very wildest +part of the farm–in a deep thicket, where the +cattle, or other animals, never went to drink. So +the spring was thickly overgrown.</p> + +<p>“And by cracky! you can’t blame a cow for +not wanting to drink <i>that</i> stuff,” declared Lucas +Pritchett when he first tasted the water.</p> + +<p>Medicinally, however, it was a valuable discovery. +Bottled and put on sale, it was soon +being recommended by men high in the medical +world.</p> + +<p>“The old doctor knew a thing or two, even +if he <i>did</i> live back here on the lonesomest hill in +the State,” said Aunt Jane. “No! I won’t stay, +children. You’ve treated me fust-rate; but give +me the town. I want life. I don’t see how Mrs. +Castle can stand it. I’d vegetate here in a week +and take sech deep root that you couldn’t pull me +out with a stump-puller.</p> + +<p>“Besides, I’m going to have money enough +now to live jest like I want to in town. And I’m +going to have one of these automobile cars–yes, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307'></a>307</span> +sir! I’ll begin to really and truly <i>live</i>, I will. +You jest watch me.”</p> + +<p>But in her joy of suddenly acquired wealth she +did not forget her nieces–the girls who had +really made her good fortune possible. Both +Lyddy and ’Phemie owned stock in the mineral +water company; and then Aunt Jane assured them +that when she died they should own the farm +jointly. She had only sold the spring rights to +the company.</p> + +<p>The rest of the corporation consisted of Harris +Colesworth and his father, Rufus Castle, his +mother, Grandma Castle, Lucas Pritchett and–last +but not least–Mother Harrison. The widow +had asked the privilege of investing in the stock of +the company the fifty dollars that Professor Spink +had paid her for her husband’s old desk.</p> + +<p>And as that stock is becoming more and more +valuable as time goes on, it was not an unwise investment +on the widow’s part. As for Lucas, it +was by ’Phemie’s advice that the young farmer +put <i>his</i> money into the stock of the mineral water +concern, instead of into a red-wheeled buggy.</p> + +<p>“Wait a while, Lucas,” said ’Phemie, “and +you’ll make money enough to own a motor car +instead of a buggy.”</p> + +<p>“And you’ll take the first ride in it with me?” +demanded Lucas, shrewdly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308'></a>308</span>“Yes! I’ll verily risk my life in your buzz-wagon,” +laughed the girl. “But now! that’s a +long way ahead yet, Lucas.”</p> + +<p>The summer had passed ere all these things +were done and said. Nor had the Bray girls lost +a single opportunity of making their original venture–that +of keeping boarders at Hillcrest–a +success.</p> + +<p>Lyddy had bought her cooking stove, her chickens +had turned out a nice little flock for the next +year, the garden had done splendidly, and when +the corn was harvested the girls banked a hundred +dollars over and above the cost of raising the +crop.</p> + +<p>Best of all, their father’s state of health had +so much improved, during these last few weeks, +that the girls could look forward with confidence +to his complete restoration, in time, to a really +robust condition.</p> + +<p>Hillcrest had been his salvation. The sun and +air of the mountainside home had finally brought +him well on the road to recovery; and the joy his +two daughters felt because of this fact can scarcely +be expressed in words.</p> + +<p>Grandma Castle and the Chadwicks wanted to +remain until New Year’s, so the girls got no real +vacation. Several automobile parties had now +found their way to the house on the hill, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309'></a>309</span> +old-fashioned viands, the huge rooms, open fires, +and all the “queer” furniture induced them to +return from time to time.</p> + +<p>So Lyddy and ’Phemie decided to be prepared +for such parties, or for other people who wished +to board for a week or so at a time, all winter.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bray had grown so much stronger by now +that sometimes he expressed his belief that he +ought to go back to the shop and earn money, +too.</p> + +<p>“Wait till next season, Father,” Lydia urged +him, softly. “We can all pull together here, and +if we have only a measure of good fortune, we +shall be independent indeed by <i>next</i> fall.”</p> + +<p>The prospect was surely bright–as bright as +that which lay before Lyddy and Harris Colesworth +one Indian summer day as they strolled +down the lane to the highroad.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see how Aunt Jane can find this place +lonely,” sighed Lyddy, leaning just a little on the +young man’s arm, but with her gaze sweeping +all the fair mountainside.</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> couldn’t leave it, Lyddy?” he asked, +with sudden wistfulness.</p> + +<p>“No, indeed! Not for long. No other place +would seem like <i>home</i> to me after our experience +here. It’s more like home than the house I was +born in at Easthampton.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310'></a>310</span>“You see, we have struggled, and worked, and +accomplished something here–’Phemie and I. +And Aunt Jane says it shall some day be ours–all +of Hillcrest. I love it all.”</p> + +<p>“Well–I don’t blame you!” exclaimed Harris, +suddenly swinging about and seizing her hands. +“But, say, Lyddy! don’t be stingy about it.”</p> + +<p>“Stingy–about what?” she asked him, rather +frightened, but looking up into his sparkling eyes.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be stingy with Hillcrest. If you are +determined to stay here–all your life long–you +know― Don’t you suppose you could find it +in your heart to let <i>me</i> come here and–and stay, +too?”</p> + +<p>Nobody heard Lyddy Bray make an audible +reply to this–not even the curious squirrel chattering +in the big beech over their heads. But +Harris seemed to see just the reply he craved in +the girl’s eyes, for he cried, suddenly:</p> + +<p>“You <i>dear</i>, you!”</p> + +<p>Then they walked on together, side by side, +over the carpet of flame-colored leaves.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 32401-h.txt or 32401-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/4/0/32401">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/0/32401</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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