Читать книгу The Second Girl Detective Megapack - Julia K. Duncan - Страница 9

FINDING THE LOST TREASURE, by Helen M. Persons [Part 2]

CHAPTER XV

THE OLD GODET HOUSE

“No floors,” observed Priscilla, peeking in.

“It’s a mere shell,” said Jack; “everything rotted away but the walls and the chimney.”

“But how stout they are!” exclaimed Desiré, triumphantly.

“We’ll look at it again when we come back this way, if you like,” promised Jack presently; “but now I want to get on to Windsor.”

“There’s the remains of a garden back of the cabin,” commented Priscilla, as they drove away. “I can see three or four flowers.”

“The first seeds of which were doubtless planted by our—how many times great-grandmother, Jack?” asked Desiré.

“Don’t know. The ‘greats’ always did puzzle me.”

“Oh!” cried René, “I always thought you knowed everything.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, my boy,” laughed Jack; “but I don’t.”

“And now,” said Priscilla, “I want to see the place where you went to school, Jack. Wasn’t it here?”

“Yes. I’ll show it to you when we come back.”

“How strange,” commented Desiré to Jack, “that you never heard of or saw the place when you were here.”

The boy smiled. “I was far too busy going to classes, preparing assignments, and coaching some of the other fellows, to hunt up old ruins.”

Desiré was very quiet for the rest of the day, but the next day, when they were camped near the river Avon just beyond the town of Wolfville, she said rather timidly to Jack:

“Do you suppose we could find out anywhere who owns the Godet house now?”

“Possibly; but why?”

“I’d just like to know.”

Her brother looked at her keenly before he said—“We can walk into town and see what information we can get, if you like.”

“Do you suppose the children would be safe if we left them?” looking up at him doubtfully.

“I think so. Priscilla must begin to take a little responsibility now. We’ll have plenty of time to get back before dinner time.”

While Desiré got ready, Jack issued instructions to the two children, closing with—“René, you’re to mind Priscilla; and Prissy, don’t go away from the wagon, or let René out of your sight.”

They had gone only a short distance when Desiré, who had looked back several times, said—“Jack, would you mind very much if I let you go on alone, and I went back?”

“No, of course not; don’t you feel well?” he inquired anxiously.

“Perfectly; but—Prissy is pretty young to be left with the wagon and the baby; and it isn’t as if you really needed me along.”

“I think they’re perfectly safe, but if you’d feel better about it, go back by all means,” said her brother kindly.

So Desiré returned to the children, and waited in a fever of suspense for Jack to come back. With one eye on the long road, and the other on her household, or rather wagonhold, duties, she was ready to drop everything and go to meet him as soon as his tall form appeared in the distance.

At full speed she dashed along the highway, raising quite a cloud of fine white dust, and fell into Jack’s arms outspread to stop her.

“Good work, Dissy! All our riding hasn’t made you forget how to run. Remember the races you and I used to have when we were little, on that smooth path running along the edge of the woods?”

“And the day you fell over a stone and had such a terrible nosebleed? How frightened I was!”

“We had lots of good times together when we were kids, didn’t we?” asked Jack, laying his arm affectionately across her shoulders.

“We surely did; but why say ‘when we were kids?’ We do now, too, only they are a different kind of times.”

“And a different kind of race,” added Jack, thoughtfully.

“Well, what did you do in town?” asked the girl, unable to restrain her curiosity any longer.

“I rambled about a bit first, asking a question here and there, and finally ended up at the house of Judge Herbine. He’s a fine old man, Desiré; you’d like him. As he is quite a story-teller, and very much interested in our affairs, it took some time to get the information I was after; but at last I succeeded in finding out that the house apparently belongs to no one. Some years ago a man from the States wanted to buy the site for a summer home, but when he investigated and found that there wasn’t a clear title to the property, he decided not to take it. I don’t really understand it, but it’s something about some papers that are missing, have been for years and years back. Nobody else wanted it, so—”

“We can take it ourselves,” concluded Desiré.

The boy stood stock still in the road, and looked at his sister in frank dismay.

“What on earth do you mean!” he asked.

“Just what I said. If it belongs to nobody, we, being the Godets’ descendants, can surely take it. Who’d have a better right?”

Jack looked more and more puzzled, as he said—“What would you do with it?”

“Do with it? Why, live in it, of course.”

The boy regarded her with such a worried look that she laughed outright.

“I’m perfectly sane, Jack. My plan is this. We’ll have to live somewhere during the winter; and if we board, we’ll use up all the money we make this summer. With this as our headquarters, during unpleasant weather we could make day trips as we planned, and send Prissy to school every day in Wolfville. Or possibly you could get some kind of a job in Windsor for the winter, and I could take charge of the wagon.”

“But nobody could possibly live in that cabin,” objected Jack, brushing away a persistently hovering bee. “It’s hopeless.”

“Indeed it isn’t hopeless. I agree with you that no one could live in it the way it is now, but with new floors and a couple of partitions, it would be fine. You admitted that the walls were stout, and the chimney perfect.”

“With help, I could put down floors—” began Jack half to himself, after a moment’s consideration. “We’ll have to think this out more carefully, though, and talk it over again.” And he added hurriedly as they got near the wagon, and Priscilla dashed out to meet them, “Don’t say anything yet before the children.”

The same afternoon Jack went again to town, and did not return until supper time. Priscilla was curious to know what he did there, but he gave such absurd answers to her questions that she finally gave up.

“I’m not ever going to ask you another question,” she announced.

“Not until next time,” teased Jack, ruffling up her hair.

“I suppose you are as curious as Prissy,” he said later on to Desiré, after the children were asleep.

August had come in with a cool wind from over Fundy, and after darkness fell, the chill was more noticeable; so Jack had built a small camp fire, and he and Desiré were sitting beside it on a pile of cedar boughs.

“Well, yes,” admitted Desiré. “I must confess that I am.”

“I went to see a young carpenter that the judge recommended to me—”

“About floors?” asked Desiré eagerly, twisting around so quickly to look directly into his face that the pile of boughs swayed threateningly.

“Look out, Dissy!” warned her brother. “You’ll have us both in the fire if you don’t sit still. Yes, about floors, and partitions.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s busy on one of the farms now, but when the crops are in he’ll do the work for us at a price that we can afford to pay. That is, I think we can if we do well for the rest of the summer.”

“Then we’ll just have to,” decreed Desiré, tossing a couple of pine cones into the fire.

“The judge is a good old scout. Seemed so interested in us that I told him what we were doing, or rather trying to do, and he was awfully keen about seeing the rest of you. So he’s coming out tomorrow to lunch—”

“Tomorrow!” exclaimed Desiré. “Why, I thought you were anxious to get on to Windsor; and we’ve already lost a day.”

“Yes, I know; I don’t know just why I hung around here, but it just seemed as if we were meant to.”

“And to lunch, Jack,” she added, in dire dismay. “What made you ask him to a meal?”

“I don’t know. The invitation was out before I thought. But you would have asked him, too. He seems so kind of lonely, and he says he dotes on picnics. You can manage something simple; can’t you?” the boy asked anxiously.

“I’ll try hard, of course. Do you suppose you could catch a few fish in the morning?”

“Probably, and I saw some ripe huckleberries as I came along this afternoon. The youngsters can gather some of those, and we’ll get along all right.”

The children were delighted at the prospect of “company,” and immediately after breakfast, Jack escorted them, armed with a tin pail and a couple of cups, across a field to the berry bushes loaded with blue fruit.

“When the pail is filled, go right back the way we came, and take the berries to Desiré,” he instructed, as he set out in a different direction for the river, with his fish pole. The banks of the sparkling stream were pink with masses of wild roses, freshly opened and wet with dew.

“Desiré would be crazy over these,” he thought. “Guess I’ll take some to her when I go back.”

An hour’s fishing resulted in enough fish for a meal; and after cutting an armful of roses, Jack returned to camp. The children had reached there ahead of him, and were busy making things ready for the eagerly awaited guest.

Desiré had laid on the ground, in a shady spot, a red-bordered tablecloth, anchored it at each corner with a stone concealed by a pile of pine cones. She greeted Jack’s offering with enthusiasm—“Just what we need for the centre of the table. Prissy, get an empty fruit can to put them in, and lay some big ferns around it. I must attend to my biscuits.”

It was wonderful what good things Desiré could cook on the little camp stove, which they really had not felt able to afford when they saw it in Yarmouth. “It will pay for itself very soon,” she had argued; “for we can’t live on cold food all the time; and eating in restaurants is awfully expensive.” Jack had approved; so the stove and even a little oven to set on top of it, when needed, had been added to old Simon’s outfit.

About twelve o’clock a Ford coupé was seen in the distance, and soon came to a stop beside the Wistmores who, one and all, stood in a row in front of the camp. A thin little man with heavy white hair got nimbly out of the car.

“This is my family, Judge Herbine,” said Jack; “Desiré, Priscilla, and René.”

“Very glad, indeed, to know you all,” replied the judge, bowing low with old-fashioned courtesy, but gazing searchingly at each one over the tops of the glasses which he wore so far out on his nose that it was a miracle that they stayed on at all. Priscilla was so fascinated by them that she could hardly keep her eyes off them.

“We’ll have lunch right away,” announced Desiré; “so please take your places at the table. This is yours, Judge,” indicating the side facing the road, where a cushion had been placed. The others sat on the ground.

The fish which Jack had fried over a camp fire, while Desiré finished her biscuits, were done to a turn; and the judge did full justice to them.

“These biscuits are mighty fine,” he commented, “and you say you made them on that little gadget of a stove? Marvelous! Marvelous!”

After the huckleberries and some wafers which Desiré had taken from their stock were disposed of, the guest insisted upon helping clear up. He was a lively little man, and skipped hither and thither, carrying dishes, picking up papers, and making himself generally useful.

“Now for a visit,” he said, settling himself beside a tall pine, leaning back against its trunk, and stretching his legs, clad in cream-colored crash, straight out in front of him.

CHAPTER XVI

A NEW FRIEND

“So you’re going to try to live in the old Godet house this winter—”

“Oh, are we?” cried Priscilla, throwing herself on Desiré.

“Oh! Oh!” shrieked René joyfully, not very clear as to what the rejoicing was about, but determined to have his full share in it anyway.

“Have I let the cat out of the bag?” inquired the judge, startled at the effect of his question.

“We had not yet told the children,” replied Jack; “but it’s quite all right, for they would have known soon, anyway.”

“Sorry—sorry. You two youngsters just forget what I said.”

The man talked in a rapid, jerky fashion which reminded Desiré of the way a robin runs along, a few steps very fast, stops up short, and then repeats the process.

“Now, I was going to say, where do you expect to house your team this winter?”

Jack and Desiré looked at each other in dismay.

“I never thought of that,” said the boy slowly.

“Well, I did. Got an empty barn at my place—no good to me—Ford is lost in it—plenty of room for your horses and wagon—”

“If you’ll let—”

“Now I know just what you’re—going to say—and I won’t. But if you’d—feel better about it—let this good sister of yours—make me some biscuits once in a while. Don’t get this kind very often.”

“I’d just love to,” replied Desiré warmly, while Jack tried to express his thanks, to which the old man refused to listen.

“Where are you going from here?” continued the judge.

“Right on to Halifax, then back again,” replied Jack.

“Now I was thinking—while we were eating—know how to make things out of birch bark—and out of pine cones?” turning to Desiré. “No? Then I’ll show you.”

Scrambling lightly to his feet, and followed by the young Wistmores, he darted across the road to a large birch tree; and drawing a knife from his pocket, showed them how to obtain strips of bark without injuring the tree. Returning to the camp, he ordered the two children to gather up a lot of cones. The rest of the afternoon was spent in learning to make boxes, baskets, and picture frames.

“There’re lots of tourists in Halifax—always looking for souvenirs—at railroad station, cab stands, and such. Wharf, too, is a good place to offer this stuff. No reason why you two girls shouldn’t do that—perfectly safe.”

“Now I’m going home,” he announced suddenly at about five o’clock. “Had a good time. See you often this winter. I’ll keep an eye on that boy who is going to fix up your cabin—ready when you come back this way—if you don’t come too soon.”

“Isn’t he funny?” commented Priscilla, as the Ford drove out of sight.

“But charming,” added Desiré.

“Oh, yes, I like him a lot.”

“Me, too, like him,” echoed René.

“Tomorrow,” said Desiré, “I want to gather lots of bark and cones, and while we’re on the road I can make up baskets and boxes. Then when we get near enough to Halifax, we’ll pick huckleberries to fill some of them, and wild flowers for the rest—”

“And we’ll sell ’em and make heaps of money,” finished the practical Priscilla.

“We’ll get bunches of cat tails, too,” continued Desiré.

“And later in the season, pretty berries,” said Priscilla.

“And wintergreen—”

“And nuts—”

“And soon you won’t need my poor efforts at all,” concluded Jack, with a half smile.

“Oh, don’t, please, Jack, even in fun,” begged Desiré.

“We’d need you even if you never earned a cent!” cried Priscilla, throwing her arms around Jack’s neck.

René, attempting to imitate her, due to the wagon’s passing over a rut, succeeded only in falling violently on his brother’s shoulder. The combined assault nearly forced Jack forward out of the seat.

“I’ll take your word for it, hereafter,” he gasped, when order was once more restored. “Don’t illustrate again, I beg of you!”

A week later the Wistmore family drove into Halifax.

“I shall have to spend most of the day buying supplies,” said Jack, as they passed the citadel. “I’ll put the wagon up somewhere, and you and the children can look about while I’m busy.”

“But—” protested Desiré, “the boxes of berries, and flowers—”

She had carried out the plan formulated at Wolfville, and had a number of really artistic boxes of choice fruit, partly covered with tiny ferns, and several odd baskets in which dainty wild flowers were set in moss.

“I hate to have you hanging around offering things for sale,” objected Jack.

“But we can’t afford to be proud that way, dear. It is a perfectly respectable thing to do, and I do so want to be a help—”

“As if you weren’t always,” ejaculated the boy.

“I should think the station might be the best place to start; so drive us over there like a good boy,” urged Desiré.

So Jack kept René with him, and, with many misgivings, left the girls standing near the steps which lead down from the station to the cab platform. The taxi drivers were too busy trying to outdo one another in securing fares to pay much attention to the girls; for a train had just come in. The first few travelers who hurried through the station to secure a taxi did not even see the little saleswomen. When another group appeared, Desiré stepped forward just as they were getting into a cab.

“Wouldn’t you like—” she began timidly.

A haughty-looking elderly woman, who seemed to be the leader of the party, brushed her aside with a curt “No!”

Scarlet with embarrassment, Desiré shrank back.

“Don’t mind her, Dissy,” said Priscilla, hugging her sister’s arm. “She’s ugly mean.”

“Hush!” was the only word Desiré could utter just then. It took all the courage she was able to muster to approach the next travelers, a fat man and two women.

“Would you care to buy a souvenir?” asked Desiré, her heart beating very fast.

“Bless my soul, no!” replied the man, not unkindly but very definitely. “Too much luggage now.”

Only the thoughts of helping Jack urged the girl to persevere. Trembling, dripping with perspiration, she stopped a couple of women who shook their heads before she could get a word out. Seeing the look of disappointment on her face, the younger of the two held out a coin, saying—“I don’t want your wares, but take this.”

Stung to the quick, but realizing that no injury was intended, Desiré refused and walked away, ready to cry.

“I’d have taken it if I’d been you,” commented Priscilla.

“Of course you wouldn’t, Prissy. We do not beg. But I guess nobody wants our souvenirs—and I thought them so pretty. We’d better try to find the Public Gardens, where Jack told us to meet him.”

“I think the station is a bad place, anyway,” said Priscilla. “The people are in too much of a hurry, and they did all have a lot of baggage. Maybe we can find somewhere else.”

By asking directions a number of times, they arrived at the Public Gardens—the big iron gates opening into acres of gay flower beds, rare and valuable trees, winding streams, artistic bridges. They were about to enter, when a man who, at a safe distance, had been watching them in the station, and who had followed them to the Gardens, now hurried forward.

CHAPTER XVII

AN OLD ENEMY

Pushing rudely between the two girls, the stranger succeeded, by means of a skillful bit of elbow play, in knocking the souvenirs out of their hands. As if to avoid stepping on the scattered berries and flowers, he took a couple of quick side steps, planting his huge feet directly upon them, and thereby ruining them completely. It was all done so quickly that the girls hardly realized what had happened until they stood looking down at the remains of many days of labor.

Desiré was quite speechless, and seemed momentarily paralyzed. Not so Priscilla, whose quick eyes followed the stranger, striding away over one of the bridges in the Garden.

“Dissy,” she whispered, “it’s that same man.”

“What same man?”

“The one who fought Jack.”

“It does look a lot like him, but—”

“It’s him all right! The mean old pig!”

“Why, Prissy! It was an accident.”

“Wasn’t either, and now we can’t make any money to take to Jack.” Excitedly she burst into tears.

“Don’t, dear,” begged Desiré. “We mustn’t act like babies every time something goes wrong. We’ll just start over again. These didn’t cost anything, and it will be easy to make new ones.”

“What’s the trouble?” asked Jack, who had come up behind them.

Both girls explained at once.

“Where’s the fellow now?” demanded the boy, his jaw set, his eyes flashing.

“He went over that bridge,” pointed Priscilla.

“Don’t bother about him,” urged Desiré. “You might get arrested. Let’s go back to the wagon.”

Struggling between the wish to avenge the wrong to his little sisters, and the conviction that it was perhaps wiser to avoid conflict in a strange city, he turned abruptly away from the big iron gates.

“Where are we going next?” asked Desiré, as they walked along the street toward the place where the wagon had been left.

“I bought all the stock we need, and I thought, since Simon always did, we’d go on down the South Shore a ways and then come back here to start for—”

“Home!” concluded Desiré, “and what fun we’ll have settling down in it.”

“More fun in a wag’n,” declared René.

“You’d holler all right, when the snow blew in on you,” said Priscilla.

Jack hardly heard what they were saying, so puzzled and disturbed was he over the reappearance of his enemy. Was the man following them, or was the meeting purely accidental? Had he been tampering with the horses the night Priscilla roused them? If the fellow were bent on revenge, they were likely to suffer from the effects of his anger and jealousy almost any time.

The next morning they were following the very irregular South Shore line along the Atlantic; past ragged points, around deep bays, through tangles of woodland, then back beside the yellow sands again. Numerous offshore islands looked so inviting that Priscilla was always wishing they could drive out to them. As they rounded St. Margaret’s Bay, the sunshine was brilliant; but almost without warning, a mile farther on, they were completely enveloped in fog which cut off all view of the ocean.

“Do be very careful, Jack,” pleaded Desiré nervously, as they almost felt their way around an especially blind curve. “Someone might run into us.”

They reached Chester in safety, and spent some time looking about that busy little town. The souvenir shop up the hill above the Lovett House especially attracted Priscilla, and it was with great reluctance that she left it.

“I’d like to have money enough to buy everything I wanted there,” she said, looking longingly back at it.

In a few minutes they missed René, who had been lagging along behind them.

“That boy is hopeless,” groaned Jack, as they retraced their steps to look for him.

Not very far back they discovered him, leaning over the edge of a cobblestone well, trying to lower the heavy bucket.

“I was thirsty,” he explained, as Jack detached him.

“But you might have fallen in!” said Desiré severely.

“I’ll tell you what we can do,” proposed Priscilla; “tie a rope to him, like you do to a little dog, and I’ll lead him. I saw a lady at Halifax with a little boy fastened that way,—”

The proposal called forth a howl from René.

“Won’t be tied like a dog! Won’t have Prissy lead me!”

“Well, let’s go on now before we get into any more difficulties,” said Jack, starting for the shed where he had left the wagon.

“That is Mahone Bay,” he told them, as they gazed out over the large arm of the ocean upon which Chester is located; “and all this section was once a great retreat for pirates. There are so many islands where they hid their booty, and so many little bays and inlets where they could take refuge if pursued.”

“Want to go out there and see pirates,” announced René, as Jack tightened the reins, and Dolly and Dapple began to move.

“There are no pirates there now,” said Priscilla in a disgusted tone.

“Go and see. I’m going to be a pirate when I grow up. I think they’re fine.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t give us that piece of information before, Jack,” laughed Desiré, “or we should have been swimming out to find Renny.”

Not very far beyond Chester, they ran into fog again. The road was winding, and very much up and down hill; and as they were about to round a curve near Lunenburg, a heavy automobile loomed up suddenly at their left, out of the grey blanket which enfolded the landscape.

CHAPTER XVIII

A COLLISION

Jack turned aside as quickly and as far as he dared, but the machine struck the side of the wagon, ripped off a wheel, and disappeared into the gloom. The children were thrown violently to the floor of the wagon, and Desiré against the side; but Jack managed to keep his seat. The horses stopped instantly, and stood quiet like the intelligent, well-mannered animals that they were. To the accompaniment of René’s cries, Jack got his little family out of the tilting wagon and took stock of their injuries. Priscilla had a bad nosebleed, and Desiré a bruised arm. René was only badly frightened, and Jack himself entirely uninjured.

“We certainly can be very thankful,” breathed Desiré with relief, after first aid had been given.

“We certainly can,” agreed Jack fervently, going to examine the condition of the wagon; “we were very lucky.”

“What can we do with it?” inquired Desiré.

“Fortunately we’re not very far from Lunenburg,” he replied, “and I suppose I can get it fixed there; but it will mean quite a delay, I imagine. If the fog would only lift so that we could see something.”

“Why not stay right here until it does?” proposed Desiré.

“Should you be afraid to stay here with the children while I walked to town?” began Jack. “It would save time if I could get the work started today—”

“Not afraid for us, Jack; but for you. Something might hit you. Suppose another automobile should come along!” She shuddered.

“Well, then we’ll try to get the wagon just off the road, and make ourselves as comfortable as we can until the fog is gone.”

With much difficulty, and many pauses for rest, they succeeded in getting the wagon off the road.

It was a tiresome afternoon, and seemed many hours longer than it really was. Just about six o’clock the grey blanket was whisked away as suddenly as if someone had picked it up, and the land was flooded with late afternoon sunshine. On one side of them were fields with groups of trees here and there; on the other, a wide beach.

“Why not camp in this field?” asked Desiré, as the children darted across to play in the sand. “If we’re going to be held up for a day or two, this is probably as good a place as any.”

Jack agreed. So after charging the children not to go into the water, they set about making a permanent camp. It was too late to go to town that night, but early the next morning Jack took the broken wheel and started out.

“I can have it the day after tomorrow,” he announced upon his return, which Desiré assured him was “not so bad.”

The two days passed very pleasantly. Twice a day, much to René’s delight, they all went in bathing. Playing in the sand became almost as much of a joy to the older ones as to the children, and they laid out wonderful towns across the beach. In the middle of the day, when it was too hot near the water, they spent their time in the grove, and made friends with the squirrels who were busy laying in their stores for the winter. The little creatures got so tame that they would venture into the very laps of the invaders of their domain.

“Now for the road again!” cried Jack, on the evening of the second day, as he put the new wheel on the wagon. “We’ll go to bed early, and get started as soon as it is light.”

Just after daybreak, he came to the wagon where Desiré was collecting supplies for their breakfast.

“Dissy,” he said, “Dolly is very sick!”

“Sick! Oh, Jack, what shall we do!” cried Desiré in dismay. Difficulties did seem to be coming too thick and fast.

“I’ve made her as comfortable as I can, but I don’t know what to do next. I’ll have to go to town for help. Give me a sandwich to eat on the way—I can’t wait for breakfast. You and the children keep away from her until I get back.”

In a few minutes Jack disappeared down the road leading to Lunenburg, puzzling over the finding of a pan half filled with bran mash which he had discovered near Dolly. Since he could not arrive at a satisfactory explanation, he wisely decided to keep the discovery to himself.

Desiré gave the children their breakfast, and sent them out on the sand, she herself remaining where she could watch them and keep an eye on the wagon. It seemed hours after Jack had gone when up the road she could see the broad bulk of a team of oxen plodding slowly toward her. As they came closer, she saw that they were pulling one of the flat wooden wagons used for hauling stone. On the boards sat Jack and another man; the driver was walking at the animals’ heads. Jack got off and came hurriedly toward her, after directing the driver to the end of the field where the sick horse lay.

“The doctor thinks he’ll have to take Dolly to his place; so they brought an ox team along,” he explained. Then before Desiré had time to reply, he dashed off to join the other two men.

Half an hour later poor Dolly, reclining on the ox cart, was ready for her ride to Lunenburg.

“I think she will get well; but not right off. She must have ate something very bad,” said Dr. Myers, a stout German, mopping his brow with a big blue handkerchief. “You come see me—say—next day after tomorrow; then I maybe can tell you how long.” He ran clumsily down the road to join his patient.

Jack sat down beside Desiré, and for a long moment they looked at each other without speaking. The children, who had left their play to become spectators of the moving, had returned to the beach at Desiré’s direction, and were now so busy constructing a sea wall that they were oblivious to all else.

“What next, Jack?” asked Desiré at last, laying her hand over his.

CHAPTER XIX

POOR DOLLY!

“I wish I knew,” was the boy’s sad reply to his sister’s question.

Fired by the sight of his deep depression, Desiré put her wits to work to find a way out of this latest catastrophe.

“Perhaps I could get some work in the shipyards in town,” began her brother before she had arrived at any solution of the problem.

“But if Dolly gets well in a few days, would that pay?”

“I don’t think she will—at least not so as to be ready for the road. You see, Dissy, it’s going to take an awful lot of what we’ve made so far to pay the doctor; and while we’re held up here, nothing is coming in, and living expenses go on.”

“That’s so.”

“If I could get a job in the yards for two or three weeks, it would mean a lot to us.”

“We would stay here, and you’d go back and forth every day?”

“Yes, that is if you wouldn’t be afraid—”

“Of course I shouldn’t!”

“It’s only half an hour’s walk, and we can camp down here cheaper than living in town. In October we should settle down in Wolfville; for it will be altogether too cold to camp after that time. If I could get work for two or three weeks, then we’ll start back for Halifax, and get to—”

“Our house just about in time,” concluded Desiré gaily.

“How proudly you say that,” smiled Jack.

“I am proud of it. Well, we’ll follow out your plan then; and while I get dinner you might tell the children what we’ve decided.”

“Better wait until we see whether I get the job or not,” advised her brother. “It will be hard on you, poor kid, having to manage everything here while I’m gone all day long.”

“Not half so hard, dear, as your having to go to work at something you don’t know anything about. I’m used to my work.”

The following afternoon, Jack returned from town, and immediately sought out Desiré who was sitting under a clump of birches mending one of Priscilla’s dresses.

“Good news, Dissy!” he cried, dropping down at her feet. “I’ve got a job.”

“Oh, Jack, that’s great! Tell me all about it.”

“When I first went into town, I stopped at Dr. Myers’ and saw Dolly. She’s lots better, but Doc said she ought to stay there another week. It’s expensive, but it would be more so if we lost her; so I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Of course not.”

“When she’s ready to come back, he’ll bring her out here; and he said to let her roam about the field for another week, and then drive her half a day at a time for a while. After that, he says she’ll be all right again.”

“Well, that’s better than we feared at first.”

“Yes indeed. I thought for a while that poor old Dolly was a goner. And how hard it would have been to tell good old Simon!”

“And what about your job?” For Jack’s eyes were on the expanse of blue ocean, where the sparkling ripples from a distance looked like silver confetti tossed up into the air and then allowed to fall back upon the restless surface of the water.

“Oh, yes. I asked directions from the doctor, and went over to the shipyard. My, but it’s an interesting and busy place, Dissy! Ships just begun, others with their ribs all showing and looking like the carcass of a chicken used to when the kids got through with it; some being painted, some out in the harbor waiting for masts, and others all ready for the deep sea. I found the man who hires the help, and he didn’t seem at all interested in me—said he wasn’t going to take anyone on at present. I’ll admit I was awfully disappointed—”

“Poor old Jack!” murmured his sister sympathetically, laying down her work to put her arms around him, much as she would have done to René.

“Just as I was leaving, who should come lumbering into the office but Dr. Myers. ‘Did you get it?’ he asked. When I said I did not, he grabbed my arm, turned me around, and marched me back to the desk where Mr. Libermann was sitting. ‘I send you this boy to get a job,’ he cried angrily. ‘For why you not gif him one? I know you haf extra work for these few weeks.’ Mr. Libermann seemed a bit taken back, and stammered—‘I did not know he was friend of yours. I’ll see what I can do if—’ ‘You’d better!’ shouted the doctor, shaking his fist under Herr Libermann’s nose. He got up from the desk and disappeared into some quarters at the back of the building, glad to escape, I think, for even a few minutes.

“‘He owe me too many kindnesses,’ grumbled the doctor, ‘for him to refuse what I ask.’ Presently Mr. Libermann returned with the welcome news that I was taken on as an extra hand for three weeks, and could start tomorrow. So once more we are—”

“On the road to prosperity!” finished Desiré, giving him a hug and taking up her sewing again.

“Not exactly prosperity, I’m afraid; but at least the means of existence,” laughed Jack.

“The funny part of the performance,” he went on, “is that Dr. Myers did not tell me to say to Mr. Libermann that he had sent me; and that gentleman didn’t have courage to remind him of the fact when he got so excited over my being turned down.”

The children were delighted when they heard that another three weeks were to be spent in that pleasant spot, but deplored the absence of their playfellow, Jack. Unaccustomed to work of the heavy kind that was required of him in the shipyard, he was naturally very tired when he returned at night; and Desiré tried to prevent the younger ones from making any demands at all upon him. She was careful, too, to keep unpleasant topics and worries from him.

The days were lonely for her; their simple housekeeping was soon done, and she could not play with the children all the time. So in desperation, one day, she took the cover off the box of articles saved from their old home, and hunted through until she found Jack’s first year high school books.

“If I can’t go to school,” she decided, “I can at least study a little by myself. I won’t bother Jack now, but later he will help me over the things I can’t understand.”

After that, the days did not drag so slowly.

The doctor kept an eye on Jack, and at unexpected times dropped into the yards to see him. In spite of the difference in their ages, the two became good friends; and both were genuinely sorry when the end of their companionship arrived.

“The doctor wants me to be on the lookout for a certain kind of ox on the way back to Halifax,” said Jack, the night before they broke camp.

“Halifax?” said Priscilla. “I thought we were going to Bridgeriver.”

“Bridgewater,” corrected Desiré, laughing.

“Well, a river is water,” persisted Priscilla, who was always reluctant to admit that she had made a mistake; and disliked very much to be laughed at.

“Sometimes it is red mud,” suggested Jack mischievously. “Eh, Prissy?” drawing a feathery grass blade across the back of her neck as she sat in front of him sorting shells and stones.

The children had gathered a bushel or more of beach treasures that they “simply must take with them,” but Jack had decreed that only one small box could be incorporated in their luggage.

“I thought it best to get back to Wolfville as soon as possible,” explained her brother seriously when she did not respond to his good-natured teasing. “It’s not so very warm now nights.”

“What about the ox?” asked Desiré.

“A friend of the doctor’s, in fact the man who came out here after Dolly, has lost one of his—”

“Lost!” exclaimed Priscilla disdainfully. “How on earth could one lose an ox?”

“The way we nearly lost Dolly,” replied Jack briefly, before continuing his explanation to Desiré. “And naturally he wants to buy a perfect match for the remaining one. He has been around the nearby country, but for some reason—I believe his wife is ill, or something like that—he can’t go far to hunt one up. So the doctor is helping him, and he thought I might just happen to see one on the way to Halifax.”

“How would you know if you did?” demanded Priscilla, with some scorn, still annoyed at having to abandon so many of her marine souvenirs.

“Dr. Myers took me to examine the surviving animal, and I looked him over closely and wrote down a description besides.”

“Read it to us, Jack,” suggested Desiré; “and then we can all be on the watch.”

So Jack read his notes, and when they went to bed they were all hopeful of finding the required animal on their trip back to Halifax.

A couple of days later they were driving along the edge of St. Margaret’s Bay, when Desiré clutched Jack’s arm.

“Look!” she cried.

“Where, and at what?”

“Away over there, in the far corner of that field. Aren’t those oxen? And so many of them.”

Jack stopped the horses and stood up, shading his eyes with his hand.

“Yes, I think they are.”

“Hadn’t you better go and look at them—that is, if they are for sale?”

“Suppose I had, but I wonder how one gets there.”

“There must be a road.”

“I’ll go and see,” offered Priscilla.

“Me too,” chirped René.

“No,” said Jack, “we’ll drive on a bit first.”

A little farther on, a narrow road led far back in the direction of the field in which the oxen were located, and from that side, farm buildings could be seen.

“I don’t believe I’ll try to take the wagon in there,” decided Jack, surveying the road doubtfully.

“You might make a sale,” suggested Priscilla, always with an eye for business.

“And break an axle in one of those holes. No, I’ll walk.”

The children clamored to go too, but Jack refused all company; so they watched him pick his way carefully along until he reached the end of the road which evidently terminated in a barnyard. It was tiresome waiting; so Desiré let the children get out to gather some cat tails which were growing along the edge of a tiny roadside stream.

They were so busy that Jack was right upon them before they were aware of his approach.

“Guess I’ve found what we’re looking for,” he announced jubilantly when he came within earshot.

“Really, Jack!” cried Desiré, almost falling off the seat of the wagon in her excitement, while the children threw themselves on him, flinging the cat tails far and wide.

“As far as I can see, he’s a perfect match. The man raises them for sale. I gave him the doctor’s address, and he promised to get in touch with him at once. However, I’ll write a letter too, and mail it in the first town we come to.”

“Isn’t it nice,” said Desiré, when they were once more on their way, “that you were able to do something for the doctor in return for his kindness to you?”

“Yes; and do you know, Dissy, people have been most awfully kind to us all summer.”

“They surely have. I never dreamed we’d make so many friends.”

“Huh!” said Priscilla bluntly; “some of them weren’t very nice. Those folks in Halifax were just horrid!”

“Hush!” ordered Desiré severely; for she had never repeated to Jack her unpleasant experiences in that city.

Jack looked searchingly at her flushed face, but said nothing more about it until they were alone that evening; then he insisted on hearing the whole story.

“Never again!” he decreed, “shall you or Prissy try to sell things on the street.”

“But we’re all peddlers, Jack dear; you can’t get away from that fact.”

“Dissy,” said her brother, smiling, “you’ll get to be as much of an arguer as Prissy if you’re not careful.”

Halifax was wrapped in a chilly grey fog when the Wistmores drove in a couple of days later. The monotonous tones of the bell buoy in the harbor sounded continuously through the city, and buildings and pavements dripped with moisture.

“Guess we’d better push right on,” decided Jack, “and try to find before night a spot where it is dry enough to camp.”

“This certainly isn’t a very pleasant place today,” shivered Desiré, peering over his shoulder at the gloomy streets.

After they got beyond the limits of the city, the fog lifted somewhat so they could see the road quite clearly, and even some distance on either side. About ten miles outside of Halifax they caught sight of something dark under a tree ahead.

CHAPTER XX

GOOD SAMARITANS

“Maybe it’s a bear!” exclaimed René hopefully.

“Somebody’s old ragbag,” suggested Priscilla.

“No,” concluded Desiré, “it’s a man.”

“Must be sick, or dead tired to sit there on such a day,” observed Jack.

Just as he spoke the words, the interested watchers saw the man attempt to get up, and fall heavily back upon the ground. Urging the horses to greater speed, Jack soon brought the wagon abreast of the unfortunate creature. Face down, he lay perfectly motionless.

“Must be unconscious,” said Jack, as they all got out and stumbled up the bank upon which the man was stretched.

Desiré held her breath as her brother was rolling the figure carefully over. There was something strangely familiar about that heavy form. No mistake, it was their old enemy.

Brother and sister faced each other across the quiet body.

“Oh, it’s him!” said Priscilla, in disgust.

“He’s the man Jack fought with!” squealed René.

“Must be badly hurt,” said Jack; “wonder what we can do for him.”

“Do! Do!” exclaimed Priscilla; “why, leave him here and go on as fast as we can.”

“Prissy!” reproved Jack and Desiré with one accord.

“I’m afraid I can’t carry him to the wagon,” said Jack slowly. “He’s so heavy.”

“Don’t want him in our nice wag’n,” declared René vehemently.

“I can help you,” offered Desiré, striving to conquer her aversion to the man.

At that moment, the object of their concern groaned and opened his eyes. Unseeing, at first, they soon showed recognition of the faces above his.

“What’s the trouble with you?” asked Jack.

“Cracked up somewhere,” was the sullen response.

“How did it happen?”

“Fell over those stones in the fog.”

Desiré turned to glance at the big pile of sharp rocks nearby, and felt that a fall on those could do almost any damage in an unexpected encounter.

“Where can we take you, or what can we do for you?” asked Jack briskly.

“Nothin’.”

“That’s ridiculous! You can’t stay here. Could you walk as far as the wagon if we helped you?”

“Can try.”

With the aid of Jack and Desiré, one on either side, he managed to get up. One or two promptly stifled groans broke from him, and he swayed precariously as he tried to stand.

“One foot’s no good,” he muttered, holding it up and throwing all his weight on the other.

“You two children go back and get into your places in the wagon,” ordered Jack. “Push your stools as close to the front seat as you can.”

Reluctantly they obeyed, hanging over the seat to watch the little procession. Slowly, painfully, stopping often to rest, the injured man was finally helped as far as the wagon.

“Lean on the wheel a minute,” directed Jack, “so my sister can get things fixed for you.”

Desiré opened the back doors, pushed the tent as far to the side as it would go, and arranged a couple of blankets on the floor.

“This is going to be the hardest bit,” observed Jack, when all was ready, “but we’ve got to make it some way.”

“Prissy and I can help him from the wagon, if you can manage out here,” suggested Desiré.

“All right, get in.”

The two girls, Priscilla under protest, grasped the man’s shoulders and pulled, while Jack eased his body and legs up from the ground to the floor of the wagon. Half fainting with pain and exertion, the patient was finally settled on the blankets.

“Where are you going to take him?” asked Desiré softly, as Jack took his place and picked up the reins.

“Back to Halifax, where he can get a doctor. I think his ribs as well as his foot are injured; and Heaven only knows what else.”

They were all very quiet as they re-covered the ten miles to the city. Priscilla was sullen; René somewhat awed; Desiré compassionate, and Jack thoughtful.

As they entered Halifax, Jack turned toward their passenger and asked—

“Any special place here you want to be taken?”

“Wharf. Pal there who’ll look after me.”

Over the cobblestones, down the steep hill to the docks they rattled.

“There he is. Tall fellow beside that pile of crates,” said the man who had been peering out the crack between the doors, which had been propped partly open to give him more air.

“Bill!” he shouted.

The fisherman turned at the sound of his name, and Jack beckoned. With three or four strides he was beside the wagon.

“What’s wanted?”

Before the boy could reply, the injured man called out—“I’m in here, Bill. Had a smash.”

The newcomer, without a word, stepped to the back of the wagon and stuck his head in. After a short conversation, during which the Wistmores stood beside the horses’ heads, he slid the invalid part way out, put his powerful arms under him, and picked him up like a child.

“Much obliged to you for bringing him back,” he said awkwardly to Jack; then strode away down the wharf; but before they were out of earshot, the injured man called back over the other one’s shoulder—“You’ve won!”

“Well, of all strange experiences,” exclaimed Desiré.

“Whatever did he mean?” asked Priscilla.

“Perhaps that he wouldn’t bother us any more,” replied Jack slowly.

“An’ he didn’t give you any money, nor nothin’,” grumbled René, as they started out of Halifax for the second time that day. “I thought if anybody helped anyone else they always gave ’em a—a—re—reward.”

“We did get a reward,” said Desiré softly, “but not the kind you mean.”

“Where’s his wagon?” demanded Priscilla.

“Probably he left it in Halifax,” replied Jack carelessly, as he wondered just what harm to themselves the pile of stones might have thwarted.

Progress on the way back toward Wolfville was necessarily slow; for housewives all along the route were preparing for the coming winter when indoor occupations must replace the activities of the warm months. Thread, wool, and notions of all kinds were in great demand; for the women folk must keep busy with more feminine tasks, the hands that during the summer had helped in gardens and farmyards, as well as in picking blueberries to be shipped to the States. Daily great trucks stop at the scattered houses along certain sections rich in that fruit to gather up supplies and take their loads to the seaports where ships are waiting for them. The average tourists en route from Nova Scotia to the States little know, when they are pacing the decks of the comfortable steamers, that far below are crates and crates of berries which will later be consumed by themselves at home or in hotels.

Several times Jack had to replenish his stock as best he could from some town through which they passed; and Desiré daily rejoiced at the steadily increasing number of coins in their little iron bank.

“We’ll be rich yet!” she exulted, shaking it merrily as they drove away from Mount Uniacke.

“Sorry to destroy your hopes,” said Jack, half under his breath, so as not to be overheard by the two children on the floor behind them, playing a hotly contested game on the board which Mrs. Auberge had given them. “Had you thought that we’ll have to get some kind of furniture for the Godet house?”

Desiré looked at him wide-eyed with surprise and dismay.

“Why, Jack, how stupid I am! I never once thought of it.”

“Nor I, until today. I don’t know what was the matter with our brains.”

As if stunned by the discovery, they drove for some time in utter silence. In the protection afforded by an upturned coat collar, and a hat pulled far down over her curls, the girl let fall a few tears. Jack, gazing fixedly ahead, half buried in a coat at least two sizes too large for him, was apparently oblivious of her distress.

The day was grey and cold, with a brisk wind whirling the golden leaves of the birches in all directions, scattering the piles of brushwood collected and left beside the road by some native for firewood; rolling the pine cones merrily along in the dust, and making the great firs and balsams toss their branches ceaselessly. Its chill warned of the near approach of snow and ice.

“Jack,” began Desiré at last.

“Yes?” untangling himself from his problems with a start, and turning toward her.

“I’ve been thinking about expenses for the winter. Of course food will cost more, because while we were on the road we had fish and berries to help out; but in regard to the furniture, we could get only what is absolutely necessary for now, and add other pieces as we were able to. We could doubtless pick up used articles at low prices. Think how little we got for our own things when we sold them.”

“But you and the children have got to be comfortable, and warm,” said Jack decidedly. “Camp life in the summer is all right; but too much makeshift doesn’t work in the winter time.”

“You must be comfortable, too,” added Desiré affectionately; “but we can do with a couple of mattresses on the floor, and a table and four chairs for the present. Maybe we could buy those from someone in Wolfville who had more than they needed, and get them cheaper that way.”

“We must have a stove, dishes, and bedding,” added Jack.

“The fireplace will do for heating; and I can cook on the camp stove. We’ve had enough dishes and bedding for the summer; so a couple of extra blankets will be all that we’ll have to buy in that line.”

“But I don’t want you to live like that,” interrupted her brother; “we should have been more comfortable if we’d stayed in Sissiboo—”

“Oh, Jack! With you killing yourself trying to pay off a big debt, and no prospects for years and years! As it is, at least we’re not in debt; we’ve had a lovely summer, in spite of a few unpleasant spots; we’re all healthy and together; and we’re going to live in the Godet house this winter.”

“You’re a cheerful little partner, Dissy,” said Jack, looking at her so admiringly that she flushed with shame as she recalled the tears so recently shed.

“Of course we have money enough to get actual necessities for the winter,” he continued, shamed by his sister’s courage into taking a more hopeful view of their situation. “And I’m hoping that I’ll be able to pick up something steady in Wolfville, or even Windsor, for the winter.”

“Perhaps the judge will be able to help you.”

“He might.”

“So don’t get all blue and discouraged again, Jack dear; we’ll come out all right.”

Late in the afternoon of another dull day, they stopped in front of Judge Herbine’s house.

“Guess we got here just in time,” observed Jack, as he got out, pointing to a few stray flakes of snow idling aimlessly through the air as if they didn’t care whether they stayed up or floated down.

The judge himself opened the door.

“So here you are at last!” was his pleasant greeting. “Come in—have a cup of tea—before you go—to look at your own place. Work’s all done.”

They were all cold and tired, and very glad to accept his invitation. His housekeeper, Madam Lovemore—for the judge had never married—bustled around preparing a substantial supper instead of “tea.” She was a sociable, motherly creature, who loved to have company at any time; but the thoughts of these poor young things driving so many miles in the cold, and going to live in that old house, so touched her heart that no effort was too great, and no food too fine to be placed before them.

“Favored—” remarked the judge, as he seated his guests at the dining room table. “Best plum preserves—my housekeeper must like your looks.”

Madam Lovemore, who was just taking her accustomed place at the foot of the table, smiled indulgently at him, as one might smile at an outspoken child.

The meal lasted a long time; for the judge wanted to hear all about their summer. Once he excused himself and disappeared into the kitchen where he held a lengthy conversation with some unseen person.

“Right away!” they heard him say, as he was about to re-enter the dining room.

“We’ll go over—with you,” he said, when Jack proposed their departure, saying that they counted on staying in the house that night, living camp fashion until they had a chance to get the necessities. For an hour, René had been asleep on the horse-hair sofa, and Priscilla’s head kept nodding.

“They’re tired, poor dears,” said Madam Lovemore compassionately, as she helped Desiré put their wraps on.

When they went outside, they discovered that the world had completely changed its appearance. A thin layer of snow made the roads look like strips of white cloth; each dried weed, seed pod, and knot of grass had a spotless cap; and the outstretched arms of the firs held their light burden so tenderly that not a flake was shaken off.

The judge was to drive over in the Ford, Madam Lovemore holding the still sleeping René in her lap.

“He’ll be awful mad tomorrow,” volunteered Priscilla, who was now fully awake, “when he hears that he’s been riding in an automobile and didn’t know anything about it.”

The judge laughed, a sudden explosion, over almost before it began.

“In that case—you’d better come in here too; so you can tell him—what it felt like.”

The little girl’s wistful look and tone had not been unnoticed by the judge; and though they were somewhat crowded, both he and his housekeeper gladly put up with the slight discomfort of an additional passenger.

“Prissy is thrilled to death,” said Desiré to Jack, as they followed the Ford with as much speed as the tired horses were able to make.

“Yes, but I wish you could have had a ride, too. You’ve always wanted one.”

“Oh, some day I shall.”

The headlights of the judge’s car, which had just turned off the main road into the lane leading to the Godet house, revealed the fact that all underbrush had been cleared away, and the road filled in. So occupied were they with the unexpected improvement, that not until they had stopped in front of the cabin did they notice that it was lighted.

CHAPTER XXI

A SURPRISE

The judge, with René in his arms, ushered them inside.

“Welcome—to Wolfville!” he cried, “and to the old Godet house.”

Jack and Desiré stood quite speechless, and even the generally talkative Priscilla could find no words. They could only look while the judge and his housekeeper watched them smilingly, though very close to tears themselves.

René broke the spell.

“Oh—o—o!” he wailed, digging his fists into his eyes, still half asleep.

“What’s the matter—young fellow?” demanded the judge, who still held him.

“I didn’t finish my piece of cake!” wailed the child. He had dozed off at the table, before finishing his supper.

They all laughed, while Madam Lovemore consoled René by promising him another piece the next day. Then the young Wistmores inspected their home.

Partitions separated the cabin into three rooms: a large one, across one end, which was to do duty as a general living room, with a place for cooking at one end; and two small ones as sleeping quarters. The partitions and floors were painted a soft blue, which was relieved by the dark logs of the side walls and the beamed roof. Rag rugs lay upon the floor, a table occupied the centre of the living room, and around it were four ladder-back chairs. Beside the stone fireplace was a low wooden rocker and a high-backed upholstered one. Each bedroom had a fully furnished double wooden bed, and a wash stand. There was a bright fire in the fireplace; simple muslin curtains were hung at the windows; and a few pots of geraniums on a small stand added to the homelikeness of the place.

“But—the furniture—” began Desiré, when she was able to put her thoughts into words. Jack was still too dazed to speak.

“Gifts from the people of Wolfville to the children of the ancient Acadians,” replied the judge pompously.

“We can never repay them,” faltered Jack.

“Don’t want you to. They were glad—to do it. Liked idea—descendants to occupy old house—deserted for so long.”

“Such a welcome I never dreamed of,” murmured Desiré. “I don’t see why people are so kind to us.”

The judge and his good housekeeper exchanged smiles at her naive remark.

“Why, don’t you want them to be?” demanded Priscilla in astonishment.

“Of course,” answered her sister, attempting unsuccessfully to draw the child to her side; but Priscilla was too bent on inspecting article by article in her new home to have any time for cuddling just then.

“Now you folks—had better—get to bed,” said the judge, preparing for departure. “You’ve had a hard day—lots of excitement. I’ll lead the team back with me. Will they follow—the Ford—do you think?”

“I imagine so,” replied Jack. “They’re very gentle.”

He followed the judge outside to help him with the horses, while Madam Lovemore bade an affectionate goodnight to her new friends.

“Just run over any time anything bothers you, my dear,” she said to Desiré.

“’N’ not no other time?” asked René, fearful of such an agreement working to his disadvantage.

“Whenever you like—” began the housekeeper.

“Don’t tell him that,” advised Desiré, “or you may see him oftener than you wish.”

Meanwhile Jack was saying to the judge, “Of course I know that you are really the one to be thanked for all that,” waving his arm at the cozy, lighted cabin.

“Not at all,” asserted the man stoutly. “The neighbors all helped. Liked it. Lots of fun.”

“Yet they never would have known about us, or our needs, if you had not told them, and made suggestions. I just can’t express my very deep gratitude, especially on account of my little sisters. René can rough it, but I hate to have the girls deprived of ordinary comforts. Sometimes I wonder if I have done the right thing—”

“One always wonders that—no matter what one does. Go in, boy,—and send my housekeeper out. Want to get home.”

Housekeeping in the new home was a delight and a novelty, after the many weeks of camp life; and the Wistmores were very happy. Jack took Priscilla into Wolfville the second day after they arrived, and made arrangements for her to attend school, much to her chagrin, for she had hoped for a longer holiday.

“No sense in her running about for days, and missing something which will cause trouble for her later,” Jack had said, when discussing the matter with Desiré. “While it is still pleasant, she can walk back and forth morning and afternoon, and carry her lunch. In winter, we’ll try to make some different arrangements.”

After settling Priscilla, Jack consulted the judge about getting work for himself.

“See what I can do,” he promised; and while he was waiting, Jack helped Desiré with the lessons she was trying to do by herself.

The snow which had greeted them on their arrival disappeared almost immediately, and the beautiful days of Indian summer hovered over the valley of the Gaspereau. Jack and Desiré, sometimes accompanied by René, but oftener leaving him with his staunch admirer, Madam Lovemore, spent many hours rambling around the country after their work was done. It was a treat to both; for though they had much in common, they seldom had opportunities for private companionship, due to the constant demands of the younger members of the family.

After a week of idling, Jack made some trips through the nearby country with the wagon, but the day schedules were soon exhausted; and he began to be anxious about a different job. Some of the nearer neighbors began to drop in occasionally; so Desiré could not be his constant companion, and he grew restless.

“The people within a day’s drive are too near Wolfville for this to be a very good place for a store like ours,” he told Desiré when he returned one afternoon after a rather profitless day. “One does not sell enough to pay for expenses. So I guess we’ll decide to put up the wagon and team for the winter. In the spring, as soon as the roads permit, I’ll have to take it back to old Simon at Yarmouth.”

“Don’t you mean we’ll take it back, dear?” asked Desiré.

“Perhaps; we’ll see when the time comes. I hope the judge will be able to find a job for me pretty soon; my own efforts are fruitless.”

“Don’t worry; if we have to use up all of our little nest egg, we’ll do it; that’s all.”

Desiré spoke bravely, but she felt sad to see Jack’s prospects of continuing his education retreat so far into the background as almost to disappear. The succeeding days were anxious ones. Jack roamed about, restless and worried, not having enough with which to occupy himself; for the weather had changed, and outdoor rambles were over for that year.

One afternoon a heavy rain began to fall, and it looked as if it meant to continue indefinitely.

“Poor Prissy will get soaked,” said Desiré, gazing out of the window for the fifth time.

“I’ll go after her,” offered Jack.

“But what good would it do for you to get soaked, too?”

“None, I suppose. The poor kid ought to have a raincoat and an umbrella,” he muttered, half to himself.

“I’ve been thinking about clothes, Jack, and it seems to me that we’ll have to draw some of what we got for the farm—”

“But that’s in the bank at Yarmouth,” objected Jack quickly, “and you know we said it shouldn’t be touched except for sickness or other emergencies.”

“I know, but this is an emergency; isn’t it? If we don’t buy a few necessary articles of clothing, we’ll run the risk of sickness, and that would be far more expensive.”

“You’re right, of course. Make out a list of what we need, and then we’ll count the probable cost.”

“We’ll do it together,” said Desiré, getting pencil and paper, and sitting down at the table beside her brother.

They were so engrossed in their problem that they both jumped violently when there was a quick knock, and the judge stepped into the room, closely followed by Priscilla. René, who had been amusing himself in the corner with some toys which had been part of the “furnishings” of the cabin, darted across the room to fling himself upon the caller.

“This is a—terrible day!” exclaimed the judge. “Thought the girl might—be drowned if—she tried to—walk home. So I hitched up the old Ford—and went after her.”

Desiré began to express her gratitude, but he brushed aside her attempts.

“Nothing to it—wanted to see this boy—anyhow,” taking the chair Jack offered him, and glancing up at the tall, broad-shouldered fellow with a smile which, as Priscilla said, made his face “all crinkled.”

“Guess I’ve got—a job for you,” he continued. “Know old man Beaumont?”

Jack shook his head gravely, though his heart rejoiced at the prospect of finding employment at last.

“He’s been postman around here—for—I don’t know how many years. Too old now—but won’t give up; been trying to fix things—so he’d have a helper. Orders came couple of weeks ago—good job for you—if you want it.”

“Want it!” repeated Jack. “You can’t possibly imagine how much I want it.”

“Government furnishes a little wagon—you’ll use one of your own horses—that is until snow gets too deep. Then you’ll have to go on—on snowshoes. Have to go to town—to get your orders—better go now in my Ford.”

So, in an excited bustle, Jack got ready and departed with the judge.

“Don’t worry—about his getting wet,” the judge leaned far out of the car to call to Desiré, who was standing in the doorway, “I’ll bring him—back again.”

It was supper time before they returned, and the rain had subsided for a time; but the judge refused to come in although Desiré ran out to the car and urged him to stay.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she added, leaning over the door after he had started the engine, “for getting Jack the job. He was so restless and worried, and almost unhappy; and when Jack’s upset, well—it just about kills me.”

The judge’s keen eyes softened, and he patted her hand kindly, saying, “Run in, child—you’ll catch cold. Hear all Jack has to tell you.”

He drove rapidly down the lane, and Desiré returned to her family. They spent a happy evening around the fire, making plans for the future. Now there would be no need of drawing on the previous funds for clothing!

The next day the sun came out, and as soon as breakfast was over the whole family started out for Wolfville, picking their way carefully around the big puddles. They left Priscilla at school, and then went on to Judge Herbine’s to clear out the wagon preparatory to putting it up for the winter.

“Where are you going to put all that?” asked Madam Lovemore, coming out in the midst of their labors, to look at all the stock spread on papers on the barn floor.

“Some of it we’ll use ourselves, and the rest store until spring,” answered Desiré, who was busy sorting goods that would keep from those which would not, while Jack, with pencil and paper, was taking inventory.

“There’s lots of room in the attic. Just take what you want to save up there. No use carting it down to your house, where you need all the space you have.”

The judge had ambled in while she was talking, and strolled around, peering at first one pile and then another.

“You’ve a day’s job here,” he observed. “When you hear the bell—come in to dinner.”

By night the task was finished, and the wagon empty. The judge presented Jack with a shovel and an axe, saying, “Can’t travel without these in these parts in the winter time. You’ll want them—in the mail wagon. They’re going to send it down—in the morning.”

Desiré looked at him in surprise.

“Why will he need a shovel and an axe?” she asked.

“Caught in storms sometimes—have to dig your way out—trees fall in high winds—only way is to chop your way through.”

Throughout supper, to which the judge insisted upon their staying also, Desiré was very quiet; and on the way home she took little part in the children’s chatter.

“What’s the matter, Dissy?” inquired Jack, after the younger ones were in bed.

“Oh, Jack! I was so very glad when you got the appointment; and now I’m so afraid for you,” she whispered, dropping her head on his broad shoulder.

“But why?” he asked in surprise, slipping his arm around her.

“Because of the storms—the falling trees,” she choked. “I never thought of that part of it.”

“But I’m strong and well, dear; and the work won’t hurt me. And I promise you that I’ll be very careful, and take no foolish chances. I don’t like to think of you sitting at home, nervous and unhappy, all the time I’m away. That would make the work much harder. So you’ll try to be brave, and not worry?”

Desiré made a desperate effort to put aside her fears, and promised to do as Jack wished.

CHAPTER XXII

CAUGHT BY STORM

Jack had seen the storm approaching as he was driving along a lonely road above a valley in the late afternoon, but it would have been about as far to turn back to the nearest shelter as it would to go on as fast as he could to the next. Urging the horses to do their best (for during the severe weather he was using the team), he drew up the robe, turned down the sides of his cap, and fastened up his coat collar. The snow came down faster and faster.

“Good thing there’s no wind,” he muttered; but even as he spoke a spiteful gust snatched up an armful of snow, and whirled it into his face. The horses did their best, but the road seemed endless; nothing could be seen except limitless stretches of white country, and trees whose branches sagged under their heavy loads.

There was a sudden crash, and right across his way dropped a huge limb of a birch tree, stretching from one side of the road to the other. The horses stopped, snorting with fright, and when Jack had quieted them, he reached into the back of the wagon for the axe, and got out to clear a pathway. He dared not try to drive around it; for he could not tell, on account of the snow, just where the ground began to slope sharply away toward the valley; and he wasn’t really anxious for a roll down those hills.

Chopping the way through was a hard task for one, and Jack had to stop very often to rest; by the time he finished, it was dark.

“Well, now we’re going on,” he said cheerily, giving a pat to either horse as he passed their heads after dragging out the cut section of the tree. The patient animals had stood quietly, heads dropped, bodies relaxed, while he worked. He had thrown blankets across them, and the rest had given them a chance to get their wind again. So they threw themselves gallantly forward to their task, and soon pulled the wagon down into the valley.

Here the road was not so good; for the snow had blown down the sides of the hills and settled in drifts, some small and fairly passable, others most difficult to plough through. Several times Jack had to get out and shovel before the horses were able to get the wagon any farther on its way. The lanterns on the wagon gave a fair light, with the help of the whiteness all about them, but the road became increasingly difficult to follow; and at last Jack had to admit to himself that he was lost. He had no idea which way to turn; but it was impossible to stand still for the night—they would be buried before morning if the snow kept on, and the horses would perish. Recalling various stories of the intelligence, or instinct, of animals under like circumstances, he decided to give the horses a loose rein and trust to Providence. The faithful beasts plodded on and on, while Jack strained his eyes through the whirling snowflakes, searching for signs of habitation.

Some time during the night he saw a dim outline in front of him, and the horses stopped. With an unspoken prayer of gratitude, he dropped down from the seat, stiffly walked a few steps to the house, and knocked.

CHAPTER XXIII

SHELTER

After an interval, a light appeared; the door opened a crack, and a gruff voice demanded what was wanted. Jack, in a few words, explained his presence and the man immediately threw wide the door, bidding him enter and make himself at home.

“But my team—” began Jack.

The man cut him short. “I’ll look after it. Go in and go to bed. The missus will show you where.”

A big dim room, with one flickering lamp; a woman wrapped in a shawl, standing in a doorway opening into another room; several figures, each rolled in a blanket and lying near the fireplace—such a sight greeted Jack as he entered.

“Here’s a blanket,” said the woman. “You can lie wherever you like in this room.”

She disappeared at once, and the boy spread the blanket on the floor a little beyond the other dark, motionless figures. He rolled himself in the blanket, and, using the mail bag for a pillow, tried to sleep. Being exhausted, in spite of the hard bed he dropped off almost as soon as the man came in from caring for the team.

In the morning he felt stiff and sore, and his head ached, due to sleeping on the floor, he supposed. His host and hostess greeted him as casually as if he had been dropping in there every night, and offered him breakfast.

“My name’s De Vigne,” said the man, as they sat down to the table.

The three dark figures of last night still lay rolled up beside the hearth, and Jack kept looking at them as he gave his host a brief account of his adventures. Finally, curiosity getting the better of him, he ventured, “Those fellows sick?”

“Yes,” answered De Vigne, glancing carelessly at them. “Flu, I guess. One of them is our hired man. The other fellows dropped in here last night a few hours ahead of you.”

Jack was a brave boy, with no foolish dread of illness; but the flu! The disease which had deprived them of their father, of that he was afraid; not so much on his own account, but because of Desiré. Poor girl, she must be half frantic by now. If he’d only had some way of getting word to her. He must lose no time in starting out again.

Mr. De Vigne gave him the necessary directions for getting back on his route again, and an hour later he was delivering the letters which had taken him to that lonely section. Then he headed for home.

The sun came out and the snowy fields became dazzling. If only his head wouldn’t ache so hard, and his stomach feel so queer. Probably when he got some of Desiré’s good cooking, he’d be all right. Yesterday he hadn’t eaten much, and he had been able to swallow very little of the breakfast provided this morning by the De Vignes. Encouraging himself in every way he could, he managed to drive all the way back; and in the middle of the afternoon, put the team in its place. As he was leaving the barn, he met the judge who had hurried out as soon as he caught sight of the open door.

“By Jove, boy!” he began; then stopped. “You’re sick! Come right in and go to bed. We’ll take care of you.”

“Desiré,” faltered Jack, swaying a little in the judge’s grasp.

“I’ll get her—Jonas! Come here and help me!”

With the aid of the hired man, the judge soon had Jack in bed in the room next to his own, and had sent for the doctor. Madam Lovemore was rushing around, heating bottles, and preparing broth. The trusty Ford never made such good time as it did going down to the cabin and back. The snow flew in all directions as the judge forced the machine through it. Desiré, worn and terrified by her night of fruitless watching, almost fainted when the judge appeared and told her his story. Jack’s needs, however, forced her to make a desperate effort to be calm. In a very short time the judge deposited her and the two children on his own doorstep.

“We’ve plenty of room,” he decreed, “and you must all stay here until the boy’s well.”

“He’s asleep now, my dear,” was Madam Lovemore’s greeting as she kissed Desiré in the hall. “The doctor’s been here; and while he’s not positive, yet he thinks it’s just a heavy cold.”

All the hours of waiting, the anxiety, the shock, resulted in one wild burst of tears when Desiré peered in at Jack, sleeping heavily, his face red, his lips drawn in tense lines. Madam Lovemore led her hastily into a room on the opposite side of the hall, and closed the door. Sitting down in a big rocker, she drew the girl into her lap as if she had been René, and let her cry.

“I’m—sorry—” gasped Desiré presently.

“It’s only natural, you poor little girl. Have your cry out, and you’ll feel lots better. Then we’ll make some plans.”

Jack slept most of the day, waking once to smile feebly at Desiré who was bending over him. She could not trust herself to speak, and only kissed him tenderly.

Under the care of good Dr. Caronne, and with the help of the delicious, nourishing foods prepared by Madam Lovemore, and the combined nursing of the entire household, Jack escaped the flu. After a couple of days he was able to get up, and a week later the Wistmores returned to their own home; and Jack went back to work.

“We can never, never hope to repay what they have done for us,” said Jack gravely, when they were talking of the kindness of their host and hostess that night. “You children must remember that, and do everything you can for them, every little thing.”

“I will,” announced René solemnly. “I’m goin’ to marry Mad’m Lovemore when I grow up.”

“I’m sure,” said Jack, “that would be a wonderful way to repay her.”

During the rest of the winter Jack used snowshoes for delivering the mail, and Desiré was so fascinated by them that she learned to use her brother’s when he did not need them. One day when he came from Windsor he brought her a pair, and suggested that whenever he went on short trips, she accompany him. She was delighted, and quite often after that she left René at the judge’s, and went skimming over the snow with her beloved brother, dearer now than ever after the fear of losing him.

“It’s so mild out that I shouldn’t be surprised if we had rain,” announced Jack, when he came in from his day’s work one night late in the winter.

“Rain!” exclaimed Priscilla. “Why, it’s still winter.”

However, Jack proved to be a good weather prophet; for when they woke up the following morning, rain was falling steadily, and the snow looked soft and dirty. That was the beginning of the break-up of winter. Each day the sun rose higher and its rays became warmer; and each day more of the snow melted, softening the ground and filling streams, large and small, to the very brim.

The winds were softer and warmer; the birds returned and began looking for home sites; and the air was alive with their calls. From the new green of the marshes came the continuous croaking of frogs. Then the first wild flowers slipped quietly into bloom; the fruit trees pushed out bud after bud until they were covered with fragrant blossoms. Nova Scotia had come to active life again after the hard winter.

The day Priscilla brought in a cluster of arbutus, there was a general rejoicing. The delicate pink blossom is greatly prized by the people of Nova Scotia, and has been made the national flower.

“The darlings!” cried Desiré, holding the tiny flowers close to her nose in order to inhale their dainty fragrance.

“Up in the woods of Prince Edward Island the Indians will be very busy now that the Mayflower—for that is the other name for arbutus—has come,” observed Jack.

“Why?” asked Priscilla, putting her bouquet carefully in water.

“As soon as the flowers appear, the young Indian braves search carefully for the finest specimens they can find to throw at the woman they want to marry. It is one of their regular customs; so you can imagine how excited the maidens are at this time of the year.”

“What a pretty custom,” said Desiré; but the practical, unromantic Priscilla thought it very funny, and so expressed herself as she placed the vase in the center of the table.

“And where are the Indians?” demanded René.

“Nowhere near here; so don’t go looking for them,” ordered his brother.

René looked very serious for a moment, and said that he wouldn’t. Apparently he had some none too pleasant recollections of one escapade in following Indians.

The apple orchards around Wolfville had begun to drop their sweet pink and white petals, and the countryside was streaked here and everywhere with the deep blue of the iris, the fleur-de-lys of France, when Jack commented to Desiré one night that they’d better take old Simon’s wagon back to him.

She laughed. “You did say we this time. When do you want to start?”

“Could you manage it by Monday?”

“This is Friday. Why, yes, I could. What will you do about your job while you’re gone?”

“It goes back to its regular owner,” replied Jack, trying to speak lightly; adding, as Desiré looked puzzled, “The old man can manage well enough in pleasant weather. I was only a helper for the winter months, you know. When we come back for the summer, if we decide to stay here, I’ll have to look for something else. I can probably get something either here or at Windsor. We’ll talk it over on the road.”

“Shall we take the children, or leave them with Madam Lovemore? When I mentioned one day our having to go to Yarmouth, she offered to keep them if we wished.”

“It would seem too much like imposing,” objected Jack; “she has been so very kind to us.”

“Yes,” admitted Desiré; “and yet I know she’s very willing.”

“One thing,” said Jack thoughtfully, “I hate to have Priscilla miss so many days of school, and she would have to if we took her. How would it do if we left her and took René? Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“Yes; I think that would be fine, and it would even things up better. Prissy can be quite a help to Madam Lovemore, while René always bears watching. I suppose Prissy won’t like being left behind, though.”

“Probably not; and it will seem queer to leave her. It will be the first time we’ve been separated since—”

“Yes,” said Desiré hurriedly, as Jack’s voice faltered; “but we know that she will be well cared for; and after we’re once gone, she’ll soon get used to the new conditions.”

So it was settled, and although at first Priscilla was inclined to feel injured, by the time Monday came she was quite resigned.

“I’ll have lots of automobile rides, I suppose,” they overheard her saying importantly to René.

“And I’ll see old Simon again!” boasted the small boy; “and go on a big boat—and—and—everything,” determined not to be outdone.

The older ones smiled as they went about closing up the cabin. They walked as far as the judge’s; and although there was no one to see her, Priscilla felt very important carrying the suitcase which held her wardrobe. There was no chance for prolonged farewells; for when they reached their destination it was so nearly time for school that Priscilla could give them only a hasty hug and kiss apiece, before dashing down a side road toward the schoolhouse.

CHAPTER XXIV

BACK TO YARMOUTH

“I meant to give her a few directions,” said Jack, picking up the suitcase she had dropped at his feet, and gazing after the child.

“We had a long talk last night after I went to bed,” replied Desiré; “and I think she will do just as we should like to have her. Prissy is growing up a bit, Jack; she really tried to be brave and generous about being left behind on this trip.”

When they were ready to start, the judge and his housekeeper stood on the steps to bid them goodbye and good luck.

“Don’t feel that you’ve got to hurry back,” called Judge Herbine as the horses started. “We’ll take good care of the little girl, and keep an eye on the cabin. Won’t hurt you to have a bit of a vacation.”

“I’ve gotten awfully fond of him; haven’t you, Jack?” asked Desiré, looking back to wave her hand at the judge.

“Yes; he’s a fine old fellow.”

After they had been riding an hour or two, René demanded suddenly—“When are we goin’ to sell somethin’?”

“Not going to,” replied Jack briefly.

“You see,” explained Desiré, “if we stopped every little while it would take too long to get to Yarmouth; and Jack is in a hurry.”

“I really should have started before, I suppose,” remarked her brother; “but I was afraid the roads might be in poor condition. Besides, it would have been too cool and damp for camping, and I didn’t want to give up the job until I had to.”

“You’n me goin’ to sleep in the tent again?” inquired René, poking the roll of canvas.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad. I like tents better’n houses.”

“You wouldn’t in the winter,” laughed Desiré. “I’ll miss Prissy. The wagon will seem big for me after last year.”

“Are we goin’ to give Simon the horses and wagon?” inquired René in alarm, a new thought suddenly occurring to him.

“We’re going to give them back to him,” said Jack. “They belong to him, you know. He only lent them to us.”

“Oh! Oh! But I never can walk all the way back again,” he wailed.

“Stop crying,” ordered Jack; “and you won’t have to walk all the way back. You cry altogether too much. You’re getting to be too big a boy to act like a baby; you must learn to act like a man.”

“We’re going back on the train, darling,” said Desiré softly. Somehow she liked to think of René as a baby rather than as a “man.”

“On a train!” squealed René. “I’m awful glad I came.”

The weather stayed pleasant, and no accidents of any kind befell the Wistmores on their journey to Yarmouth; it seemed strangely uneventful by contrast with the trip up the preceding summer. They had decided that it was best to forego the pleasure of calling on old friends, even those in Sissiboo, and get on to Yarmouth just as quickly as possible. It was after dark when they passed their old home. René was asleep, and Jack and Desiré gazed at the familiar outlines in silence. The windows showed squares of yellow light, and a few sparks floated out of the chimney. Those were the only signs of life about the place; in fact the whole town was deserted. All the people seemed to have withdrawn to their homes for the night.

Shortly before noon one warm day they stopped in front of Mrs. Chaisson’s house in Yarmouth. Before they had a chance to get out, old Simon himself came hurrying out from the back yard.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed triumphantly, throwing open the gate. “As soon as ever I heard hoofs on the street, I says to myself, ‘There’s Dolly and Dapple.’ How are ye all?”

He stopped to speak affectionately to the horses, who responded in their own fashion to his advances; and then he called his daughter.

“Matty!” he shouted. “Here’s the Wistmores.”

Mrs. Chaisson hurried out and greeted them warmly, inquiring for Priscilla whom she missed at once.

After embraces and explanations, Mrs. Chaisson invited them all to “come right in to dinner,” adding that she must have felt they were on the way, for she cooked more than usual.

After several days of camp fare, the meal tasted delicious to the hungry travelers, and they spent a long time at the table.

“You’ll stay here, of course, while you’re in town,” said Mrs. Chaisson decidedly.

“It’s most awfully kind of you,” began Jack, “but it really seems too much—”

“Nonsense! There were four of you last time, and we had lots of fun. Didn’t we, René? And now we’ve got a dog for you to play with. Run out in the back yard and make friends with Rex.”

The child departed joyfully; old Simon and Jack withdrew to the porch to talk over the year’s sales, and Desiré helped with the dinner work.

That evening after René had been put to bed—Mrs. Chaisson had decreed the season too early for sleeping on the porch, and had placed a cot in one corner of old Simon’s room for the little boy—the rest of them gathered around the air tight stove in the sitting room. The evenings were likely to be cool, and even Rex crept in to lie at their feet and enjoy the welcome heat of a wood fire.

“Matty,” began her father, “I was tellin’ the young feller,” laying his hand on Jack’s knee as he spoke, “he’d better stay on here until after the lobsters are in.”

“A good idea, if he doesn’t need to hurry back,” agreed Mrs. Chaisson, picking up her sewing.

“You see,” went on the old man, turning to Desiré, “there’s quite a bit of profit in lobsters, and the boy says he has nothin’ in sight for the present; so why not pick up a few dollars?”

She did not know how to reply on the spur of the moment, and looked at Jack for inspiration.

“I don’t know a thing about the business,” said the boy slowly.

“Huh! I can teach ye all ye need to know in half a day,” declared the old man.

“Yes, indeed. Father’s a good hand at it, or was before he got the rheumatism,” said his daughter, biting off her thread.

“Now I’ll tell ye just what I thought,” said Simon. “I’ve an old hut down on the shore toward Lower Woods Harbor way, and pots and markers enough for you. Many of them need mending, but I’ll show you how to do that; and I thought mebbe you’d take the outfit, if this girl don’t mind roughing it a bit—”

“But—” began Jack.

“Let her stay here,” suggested Mrs. Chaisson. “I’m lonesome after you go on the road.”

“Oh, you are very kind,” said Desiré quickly, “but I really couldn’t leave Jack.”

“But,” began Jack again, “I couldn’t deprive you of the lobster catching, Simon. It was bad enough taking your store for a year, without—”

“Takin’ nothing!” interrupted the old man vehemently. “Didn’t you keep my horses from eating their heads off all year, and keep my trade from goin’ to some one else fer good? Besides, I can’t catch lobsters any more. Doc says that messin’ in the water’s bad for my rheumatiz. Goin’ to give up the hut after this year anyway; so if you want to stay and take it, you’re more’n welcome.”

They discussed the matter all the evening, until Simon got up to go to bed, and his daughter withdrew to her room which Desiré was to share. To Jack fell the big sofa in the living room. He and Desiré sat on beside the fire for a few minutes after they were left alone.

“What do you think of it, Dissy? Shall I take it or not?”

“I hardly know what to say; but there’s no reason I can think of why you shouldn’t, if it looks good to you.”

“Of course I have no other immediate prospects; but it would be rough and lonesome for you, I’m afraid—”

“Lonesome, with you around? As for being rough, it will be fun to try a different way of living for a few weeks.”

Secretly Desiré rather longed for the coziness of the Godet house, but she thought Jack felt he should make the most of every opportunity for earning money, and she wanted to make things as easy for him as possible.

The next morning, with a big basket of lunch in the back of the wagon, they all drove down to the hut, René wild with excitement. An hour’s drive brought them to the bleak, deserted coast. Nothing but sand, jagged rocks, coarse grass, and scattered huts met their eyes. They left the team just off the road beside a clump of juniper, and crossed the sand to the hut. When Simon unlocked the door, the interior seemed to be a jumble of lumber.

“Get all these pots out in a jiffy,” he said, picking up a couple of crate-like objects and depositing them outside.

They all helped, and soon the pots were piled up beside the hut.

The rooms were tiny, only two in number, a bedroom and a general room; and the furniture was scanty.

“You can’t possibly live here, Dissy,” whispered Jack.

“Go on and learn how to catch the beasts, and I’ll attend to the house,” she replied with forced cheeriness.

So Mrs. Chaisson and Desiré cleaned and set in perfect order the tiny wooden building, while Simon taught Jack how to make and repair lobster pots. They look like oblong crates, and are made of narrow strips of wood bent into a semi-circle and nailed onto a board. A couple of holes are left for the lobsters to crawl in, and the whole is lined with coarse net, and weighted with heavy stones.

At noon they spread the lunch on a huge flat boulder on the beach.

“Lots nicer than an old table,” René pronounced it.

“You’ll have no trouble in roughing it as far as he’s concerned,” laughed Mrs. Chaisson.

“No; he’s usually satisfied with what he has,” replied Desiré.

“No, I ain’t,” contradicted the child.

“Why, Renny,” said Jack in surprise.

“Well, Dissy said I was satisfied, and I ain’t. I want a dog.”

“Maybe when we go home you can have one,” said Jack, adding to Desiré, “It wouldn’t be a bad plan at all, if we stay in Wolfville.”

René, as happy as if the desired pet were to be forthcoming on the morrow, returned to his play in the sand.

“Now,” said Simon, when all traces of lunch had been cleared up, “we’ll all paint markers.”

The long stakes with big wooden knobs on the top were weather beaten, and their bands of orange and green were dim. Each fisherman has a different kind of marker, and sets one up beside each pot after it is sunk beneath the water. They serve two purposes: mark the place where the pot is located, and notify other fishermen of their ownership. It is a serious matter for anyone to touch lobsters guarded by the markers of another person. It is interesting to note the numberless varieties of color combinations, styles of banding, and shapes of knobs.

It was a tired crowd of workers that returned to Yarmouth that evening; for although everything was ready in the hut for the new occupants, Mrs. Chaisson insisted upon their going back for “one more really comfortable sleep” as she expressed it.

“How do we get back and forth from the huts?” inquired Desiré, the following morning.

“I’ll take ye out,” answered Simon, “and when you want to come in, you’ll have to walk until you meet somebody who’s goin’ your way and who will give you a lift.”

Jack wrote to the judge, telling him of their plans and probable delay; both he and Desiré wrote short notes to Priscilla; and before noon they were settled in their temporary home, Desiré helping Jack get the lobster pots ready to sink, while René lay at full length in the sand poking at a jellyfish. None of them saw a figure walk along the road, stop, watch for a while, then move silently across the grass and along the sand until it stood directly back of the workers.

CHAPTER XXV

LOBSTER POTS

“What are you doing with those?” demanded a rough voice so suddenly that Desiré dropped the marker she held, and gave a little scream, while René rolled over and lay with his head on the unfortunate jellyfish. Jack, the only cool person of the group, replied quietly, “Getting them ready to sink.”

“You get yourself ready to go along with me. These belong to Simon Denard, and you’ve no right to touch ’em. So come along.”

The man laid a heavy hand on Jack’s arm, and attempted to jerk him off somewhere.

“I know they belong to Simon,” replied Jack. “We’re friends of his, and he has lent us the place for a few weeks. We’re going to live here, my sister and I.” Jack gazed calmly into the dark, determined face and keen black eyes confronting him.

Desiré was too frightened to utter a word, and stood at her brother’s other side, holding fast to his coat. René suddenly recovered his voice and began to cry.

“Hush your noise!” ordered the man, without turning his head; and so great was the child’s astonishment that he really did stop.

“There’s no need of getting excited about this,” said Jack. “You can easily prove that I’m telling the truth if you’ll ask Mrs. Chaisson, Simon’s daughter, and—”

“I’ve no time to be running to Yarmouth; and it’s a likely story anyway,” answered the man shortly.

None of them saw René get up and run toward the road, where he saw a man passing by; so when he now hurried across the sand as fast as his short legs could move, dragging his captive by the arm, they all looked up in astonishment.

“Hullo!” cried the newcomer, “what’s the matter here, Marvine?”

“The young fellow claims old Simon lent him the outfit. Did you ever hear—”

“Maybe he did,” interrupted the other man indifferently, his blue eyes roaming from one face to another. “Saw all these folks here yesterday with the old man and his daughter.”

“Did, eh? Well, maybe it’s as he says then,” letting go of Jack’s arm as he spoke. “How’d you happen to be stopping here?”

“The kid dragged me off the road saying someone was going to carry away his brother.”

“Well,” said the man called Marvine, turning to Jack and Desiré, “sorry to have bothered you. No harm meant. Was only looking out for Simon’s things.”

“Quite all right,” replied Jack. “I suppose you do have to be careful.”

The two strangers strode out to the road again without further farewell, and were soon lost to sight. Desiré sank down on the sand as if she could not stand another minute.

“I’m most awfully sorry you were so frightened, dear,” said Jack, sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his, while René piled on top of his brother, crying exultantly, “I saved you, Jack; didn’t I?”

Desiré soon recovered her composure and got up to continue her work; but although he did not comment on the fact, Jack saw that her hands were still a bit shaky. Presently he suggested—“Hadn’t you better go in and start supper, Dissy? René can help me finish here.”

“Sure,” agreed the small boy importantly. “I can help Jack.”

Desiré went in, and the two boys sank the pots and set the markers, Jack of course doing most of the work, but René fully convinced that his brother could never have managed without his aid.

“There are some other pots right next to where Simon told me to put ours,” observed Jack, as they were finishing supper.

René was so sleepy that he had left the table and curled himself up in an old rocker to take a nap.

“Oh, I do hope that they don’t belong to either of those awful men who were here this afternoon,” said Desiré with a shudder.

“They’re rough, of course, but they weren’t really so bad, Desiré. They have to protect their interests, and of course were looking after Simon’s. I hardly think, though, that either of them is our next-door neighbor. The hut beyond here looks deserted, but the pots and markers are there all right.”

Desiré took the tiny bedroom, and the boys had a couple of cots in the other room. Everybody was tired out with the unaccustomed work and excitement, and slept heavily until far later than usual. Jack, who was the first to waken, looked across at the other cot to see if René was still asleep, and was astonished to see that the cot was empty.

“Now where is that rascal?” he thought, crossing the room to the outside door, which was ajar.

He glanced out and saw his brother calmly playing in the sand a short distance from the hut.

“Don’t go any farther away, Renny,” he called softly, hoping not to disturb Desiré.

“No,” replied the child, vigorously slapping the sand into shape.

“What’s the matter?” called Desiré, who had wakened instantly at the sound of his voice.

“Nothing at all. Renny got up ahead of us and went out to play in the sand. He’s quite all right.”

“But what time is it?”

“You’d never guess. It’s eight o’clock.”

“Why, Jack, how dreadful!”

“Not at all; it’s quite all right. There’s nothing to hurry us here. Take your time. I’ll set the coffee on.”

“We’re certainly fashionable folk this morning,” laughed Desiré when, half an hour later, the three sat down to breakfast. “Renny, your feet are all wet,” as the child’s foot touched her under the table. “Let me see.”

“No!”

“René,” ordered Jack, “turn and stick your feet out.”

Slowly, most reluctantly, the boy obeyed; and Desiré exclaimed with dismay. He was wet to the waist. Their backs had been turned when he came in, and he had slid into his place at the table with all possible haste.

“How did you get like that?” asked Jack, but René only hung his head.

“Answer me, Renny.”

“Went in the water.”

“But haven’t I told you never to go into the water alone?”

The child nodded.

“You’ll have to go back to bed,” decreed his brother sternly, getting up from the table. “Sit still,” he directed Desiré. “I’ll attend to him.”

“Hadn’t you better put him in my room?” she asked.

“If you don’t mind,” replied Jack, leading the reluctant youngster from the room.

After a short interval he returned to resume his interrupted breakfast, saying as he sat down, “After we finish I’ll take him something. It will do him no harm to wait a while. He’s certainly always getting into difficulties.”

“But it’s quite a while now since he has done anything really bad,” objected Desiré; “and he loves the water so, it must be quite a temptation.”

“I know, but his going in like this by himself might result in serious consequences; and I intend to keep him in bed most of the day. But you don’t need to stay in the house all the time. He’s perfectly safe here alone, and I’m sure he won’t get up without permission. I laid heavy penalties on such a procedure.”

At this point there was a sharp knock at the door, and when Jack opened it, a short, grey-bearded man stood before them. Not liking the look in the stranger’s eyes, Desiré crossed the room and stood beside her brother. Were all the people they were to meet on this venture undesirable? How she wished they had never heard of the lobster business!

CHAPTER XXVI

HANDS OFF!

“Good morning,” said Jack pleasantly, but looking questioningly at their caller.

“I’ve a serious charge to make,” answered the newcomer, without returning the greeting. “You’ve been trying to steal my lobsters. You know the penalty for that trick!”

“I most certainly have not done any such thing,” said Jack decidedly, while Desiré twisted her hands in dismay.

“No use denying it; I can prove it. Mine are right next to yours, and some of my markers have been pulled up and yours put in. Come out and see for yourself.”

Jack and Desiré followed the man quickly across the sand to the water.

“See? Here are five of my markers hidden under this old crate on your property, and five of your markers replacing those near-shore pots of mine. Facts don’t lie if folks do.”

“My brother never lies!” cried Desiré angrily. Jack had never heard her speak like that.

“Easy, Dissy,” he said softly.

“I certainly admit that it looks bad,” he said to the man; “but since I know the rules governing these things, I should hardly have been fool enough to do such a thing even if I had been so lacking in principle; and—”

“Jack!” interrupted Desiré. “René! Could a small boy have done this?” she asked, facing their neighbor eagerly.

“Might; early in the morning, before the tide came in so far.”

“Jack, go and get him and we’ll see if he knows anything about it.”

While Jack was gone, Desiré explained to the man their presence in old Simon’s hut, and her reasons for suspecting that her younger brother had been responsible for the morning’s difficulties. Soon Jack returned, and led René directly to the man, who regarded him gravely.

“Tell this man, René,” directed his brother, “just exactly what you did when you were out here alone on the beach early this morning.”

“Pulled up dirty old markers and hid ’em, and pushed down nice ones we painted.”

René was obviously rather proud of his achievement, and quite puzzled as to the serious manner of his elders.

“Why did you do that?” asked the man, the suggestion of a twinkle appearing in his blue eyes.

“Wanted Jack’s lobster bed to look nice.”

“But those weren’t his; they were mine.”

“Everything’s Jack’s!”

Their neighbor smiled, and held out his hand to Jack.

“My mistake,” he said. “I didn’t know what a grasping partner you had.”

“He means well, but makes trouble sometimes. Take him back to bed; will you, Dissy?”

While Desiré put the little boy in bed again, and tried to impress upon him the seriousness of his mistake, Jack and his neighbor worked amiably side by side.

The days passed quickly, one very much like all the others which had preceded it; and at last they found themselves on the train, bound for home, with a fair sum of money in return for several weeks of hard work.

CHAPTER XXVII

JACK’S JOBS

The summer days which followed were delightful ones. Priscilla reminded Jack of his promise to help her make a garden; so he worked hard, clearing the ground back of the cabin, and spading up beds under her directions. She planted very carefully the seeds given her by Madam Lovemore, and waited impatiently for the first bits of green to appear.

“Guess while I’m at it, I’ll make a vegetable garden too,” announced Jack, after he had finished the flower beds. “A bit late, perhaps, but we’ll get something out of it.”

“A good idea,” approved Desiré. “I’ll help you.”

She caught up the rake and followed him to the end of the property.

“I love to work out-of-doors,” she said, “and after you get a job I can attend to the vegetables while Prissy takes care of her flowers.”

“An’ I ain’t got nuthin’ to take care of,” sighed René, feeling that he had been left out of all these new plans.

“Should you like a garden, darling?” asked Desiré, her sympathy immediately aroused by his mournful tones.

“No, no old garden. Want a dog to take care of; ’n’ Jack promised me one, too.”

Desiré glanced up at her older brother who was leaning on his spade figuring out just where he would begin to dig.

“You did promise him, Jack, or practically so,” she said.

“No chance of being allowed to forget anything in this family,” he smiled. “I’ll see what I can do for you, René.”

The next day Jack went up alone to see Judge Herbine. “Don’t worry if I don’t show up for dinner,” he said to Desiré before leaving. “The judge told me yesterday that he had heard of two or three places where I might get a job, and to come up and see him today. I’ll keep going until I’ve investigated all the possibilities.”

“All right, dear; and the best of luck.”

They had had many talks on the drive to Yarmouth, and on the beach in front of the hut, as to the advisability of remaining in the Godet house.

“It’s simply living from hand to month,” Jack had said gravely; “but there seems to be nothing else in sight just now.”

“Even so, we’re certainly some better off than we should have been in Sissiboo,” Desiré said consolingly.

“But what would you do,” suggested Jack, “if somebody came along and wanted the cabin some day?”

“Let them have it, if they could prove they owned it; but Judge Herbine seems to think such a thing most unlikely. He said, you know, that they couldn’t get a clear title when that American wanted to buy it. But why, Jack, does somebody want it now?”

“No, not that I know of; but one can never tell what might happen. The bus line will run along the main road past our lane this summer, I understand; and some tourist might take a fancy to the little cabin and want to buy it. I suppose if enough money were spent on a search, it might be possible to establish the title; or someone who wanted it badly enough might be willing to take a chance. I don’t mean to worry you unduly, Desiré, but we mustn’t get so attached to the place that having to give it up sometime will come as a great shock.”

Her brother’s words came back to her mind many times that day as she went about her household tasks. Of course they mightn’t want to live right here always. Jack must finish college, as they planned; but she wanted to go through high school; and after that, the magical trip to the States, where Jack might find his life-work. How many times they had gone over it all! At the rate money had come in so far, however, it would take many years to realize any of these day dreams, to say nothing of all of them. It seemed, no matter how careful she tried to be, to take so much money to feed and clothe them; and if somebody should claim the cabin—well, she’d better not think about that any more just now.

Late in the afternoon, when the lane was getting shadowy, the girls and René were sitting on the broad stone step watching for Jack. The sound of an approaching automobile broke the country stillness, and Judge Herbine’s Ford presently stopped. Jack got out, followed by a big, awkward-looking brown dog. With one wild shriek, René dashed down the lane and threw his arms around the animal’s neck. The judge waved to the girls, and drove away laughing.

“I’ve got a dog! I’ve got a dog!” chanted René, dragging the big beast toward the house.

“He’s perfectly gentle, for all his size,” said Jack in reply to Desiré’s questioning look. “But René, you must be kind to the dog, and never hurt him.”

“Where in the world did you get him?” demanded Priscilla, who did not like any dog very well, and especially a big one.

“The judge found him somewhere off in the country,” replied Jack, sitting down on the step which was much too low for his long legs.

“He is hardly a beauty,” observed Desiré, watching René mauling his new friend.

“No, but he’s always been used to children, and the judge thought that a good recommendation. Of course he’s awkward, and probably mischievous; for he’s not yet full grown—”

“Don’t tell me he will get bigger!” groaned Desiré. “Where shall we ever put him?”

“I’ll fix a place; don’t worry about that part of it,” Jack promised, getting up to go into the cabin.

The evening was a riot of small boy and dog. With much difficulty they were separated at bedtime; for René insisted upon his new pal sleeping on the foot of the bed, and wept copiously when the dog was banished. They said he mustn’t ever hurt the dog, he moaned, and here they were hurting him by taking him away!

“If you’re going to be unruly over the dog,” said Jack, “I shall take him right back, and you will never have another.”

“Jack will fix Rover up all nice somewhere,” promised Desiré, “and you’ll see him again in the morning.”

Quiet was restored, and after she had gotten René to bed, Desiré went out behind the cabin where Jack was preparing a place for the new member of the family. He had turned on an end the box which had held their belongings while they were on the road, and placed a bit of old carpet in the bottom.

“Behold the kennel!” he said proudly, with a wave of the hand.

“But will he stay in it?” asked Desiré, somewhat doubtfully.

“Not without being tied, for a few nights,” replied Jack, running a rope from the dog’s collar through a stout staple on the side of the box. “Then he’ll be used to the place.”

“You haven’t told me anything yet about your job prospects,” said Desiré rather reproachfully, as they walked around to the front door.

“How could I, in all the noise and excitement?” laughed Jack. “Let’s sit out here for a while. Wait a minute; I’ll get a couple of chairs.”

He brought out the rocker for his sister, and a straight chair for himself, tilting it back against the side of the house to make it more comfortable.

“It’s a great night,” he commented, with a sigh of content. “Just see that moon! Doesn’t it look as if it were stuck in the top of the trees?”

“Nights like this ought to make our gardens grow fast,” replied Desiré. “Now what about the job?”

“Well, I have a temporary one; will last about a week or two; and a promise of a steady one for the rest of the summer. Isn’t that great?”

“Certainly is. Where, and what doing?”

“You know we heard that there was to be a bus line through this part of the country?”

“Yes, but you can’t drive a bus, Jack.”

“Hardly; but it seems that the company that is to run it is sending men here from Boston who, though they know how to run busses, know nothing about the country. So I’m to ride around with them, show them the best roads, and tell them local history until they’ve learned the ropes. Of course that won’t take very long, but it’s fair pay while it lasts. They’ll pick me up at the end of the lane here every day.”

“Priscilla and René will be desperately envious of you, I’m afraid.”

“Very likely. Maybe before the season is over I’ll be able to take all of you on a little trip, over part of the route at least.”

“That would be lovely, but don’t mention it before the children. I feel that if we have any extra money it ought to be put away.”

“I suppose you’re right; but I’d like to be able to give you a little pleasure sometimes.”

“I know, and I do have pleasure, Jack; and we’ll just look forward to more chance for such things in the future. And about the other job?”

“Jim Rutland is going to open a kind of lunch stand in one end of his general store; for tourists, you know. He wants me to run it.”

“But why does Jim need anyone? I should think he could attend to both himself.”

“He has to be out of the store quite a lot. He sells everything from chickens to farm machinery, has a gas station, and I don’t know what else. He thought his son would stay home and help him out this summer, as he did last; but he had a chance to go to the States, and he’s going.”

“Is it much of a job, Jack?” asked Desiré, rather doubtfully.

“Not so much, but there’s pretty good money in it. He is going to let me have a small commission on the tourist business, aside from a fair salary. Makes it more interesting, and it will do very well indeed until I have an opportunity at something better. It will keep us going until fall—when I can have the mail again—and I hope will give us something to add to the ‘nest egg.’”

They fell silent, Jack wondering how he could get something really worth while to do, and Desiré racking her brains to think of some way in which she could contribute to their income.

“Who’s going to do the baking for the lunch room?” she asked suddenly, “Jim hasn’t a wife or mother, has he?”

“No; but why do you want to know?”

“I thought I might do it.”

“You! You have plenty to do now.”

“Not really, dear. The work here is very easy, and Prissy is getting to be quite a help. It wouldn’t be at all hard to bake some cookies and tarts, make sandwiches, and things like that. I could make pies, using wild berries which the children could gather. Oh, if Jim Rutland is willing, say you’ll let me try, Jack. I’ll bet you’d have the most popular lunch room in Nova Scotia! And think what it would mean, with your commission!”

“I’ve no doubt of its popularity after people had once tasted the good things you can make.”

“I could spread my biscuits with jam, or serve them hot with honey; and, oh, there would be no end to the nice little things, all ready to eat, that you could sell or serve.”

Desiré’s imagination, fired by her enthusiasm, supplied her with numerous ideas to be put into practice if only Jack wouldn’t object.

“Do let me try it, Jack.”

“I’m afraid that you would overwork.”

“Nonsense. Of course I won’t. I promise to give it up if I feel that it’s too much. But I just love to cook.”

“Well, I’ll speak to Jim tomorrow, if I get a chance, and see what his plans are. Meanwhile, I’ve got to be ready to meet the bus at seven-thirty in the morning; so let’s go in.”

The big bus stopped at the end of the lane promptly at seven-thirty each morning for a week; then Jack announced one night that tomorrow would be his last day.

CHAPTER XXVIII

A FIND

“Sorry?” asked Desiré, looking up from the lettuce she was preparing for their supper.

“It has been pleasant,” replied her brother, selecting a radish from a dish on the table, and beginning to eat it. “George, the driver, is a nice fellow, and we’ve had some fun together; but it’s a kind of a lazy life, after all. Of course somebody has to do it, but I think I prefer more activity.”

“Have you seen Jim yet about the baked goods?”

Jack’s hours had been so arranged that he had been unable to stop at the Rutland General Store.

“Ran across him this noon. He’s tickled to death over your ideas, and says he’ll take everything you can make, starting Thursday.”

Desiré was delighted.

“You’ll just have to get rid of that horrid dog,” declared Priscilla, coming in at that moment, about ready to cry.

“Why, what’s he done now?” asked Jack.

“He went and dug up all my nasturtiums. He’s always digging somewhere. He’s a perfect pest!”

“I’ll look after him,” said her brother, going out to the garden.

He punished Rover, and, leaving Priscilla replanting the remnants of her flowers, returned to Desiré.

“I wouldn’t say it before the children,” said Desiré, when Jack reported the condition of Priscilla’s garden, “but Rover has a most unfortunate passion for digging; and, as if he knew that Priscilla disapproved of him, he usually selects some part of her garden. I’ve whipped him two or three times, but back he goes the next time the fancy strikes him.”

Jack laughed. “I can imagine the kind of beatings you give him. But,” he added anxiously, “had you rather get rid of him?”

“Oh, no; he’s such a lovable animal that you can’t help being attached to him in spite of his faults; and then, too, René thinks the world of him. It wouldn’t be fair to take away his pet.”

The following morning, just as the big bus reached the lane, one of the tires exploded with a loud report; and Jack had to help the driver make repairs. The other Wistmores stood in the shade of the trees, watching; even Desiré could not resist the opportunity to see what had to be done. There were a few passengers already on board, and two or three of them got out to stroll up and down the road.

“What a darling house!” exclaimed one young lady, peering down the lane. “Come here, Dad; see!”

The grey-haired man looked in the direction of her pointing finger, then at the little group under the trees.

“You live here?” he asked.

“Oh, do you?” said the lady, before Desiré had hardly finished her affirmative reply; “then may we look at the house?”

“Certainly,” replied the girl politely, although she was far from willing to show it.

The man and woman examined the cabin both inside and out, with keen interest; even the garden was included in the inspection. Occasionally they talked together in such low tones that Desiré could not distinguish what they were saying. She felt a queer sinking dread as she followed them around. The children had stayed near the bus, and it seemed as if she were abandoned to these odd tourists.

On the stone doorstep the man turned back, after they had gone over the place for the second time.

“Do you own this?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

“Who does?” demanded the woman.

“It doesn’t belong to anybody, really,” confessed poor Desiré reluctantly. “It’s something about a title. We just live here.”

“Oh, Dad, buy it for me. I must have it!” exclaimed the young woman.

“I’ll make inquiries, and—” the man was saying, when a loud blast from the horn summoned them to the bus. They hurried down the lane with a careless goodbye to the girl in the doorway.

“Oh, Dissy,” called Priscilla, running toward her, closely followed by René and Rover. “Why—what’s the matter?” as she noticed her sister’s pale face and unnatural manner.

“Just tired,” Desiré managed to reply, though such a storm of emotion surged within her that she felt almost overcome by it.

“Go and lie down, and I’ll do the dishes and clean up,” offered Priscilla. “René, take the dog out to the garden and stay there until I call you,” she added importantly. “Dissy’s going to take a nap.”

“Thank you, Priscilla dear,” replied the girl gratefully. “I think I shall lie down. Call me at eleven o’clock. I shan’t need anything until then.”

Desiré kissed her little sister, escaped into her room as quickly as possible, and closed the door. In the privacy and quiet which she felt she must have at all costs, she gave way to tears. What would they do now? For these rich people could get anything they set their hearts on. Jack was right in warning her not to get too fond of the place. She thought she hadn’t, but now when it was slipping slowly but surely from their grasp—Oh! and Desiré hid her face in the pillow to drown her sobs.

Presently she forced herself to grow calmer, and when Priscilla quietly put her head in at eleven o’clock Desiré, pale, but outwardly composed, was bathing her face.

“It was sweet of you to take care of things, Prissy dear,” she said. “I’ll get dinner now; I’m quite all right. You run out-of-doors until it’s ready.”

After a searching look at her sister, the child obeyed; but all the afternoon she kept making excuses to come to the front yard, where Desiré sat sewing, to see if she was all right. While her sister was getting supper, Priscilla walked down the lane to meet Jack.

“I’m afraid there’s something awful the matter with Dissy, Jack,” began the child, slipping her hand into his. “She’s not really sick—I don’t think—but she’s not a bit like her.”

“Well,” replied Jack quietly, for he had heard bits of conversation on the bus that day, and they gave him an advance inkling of Desiré’s trouble, “don’t say anything to her, or let her know that you notice anything. I’ll talk to her tonight.”

“I didn’t, Jack. I just helped all I could, and stayed where she could call me.”

“That’s a good girl; you’re getting to be a great help to us,” tightening his grasp on her brown, plump little hand.

Fortunately René had a silly fit at the table, and kept them all laughing in spite of themselves; so the meal passed off without any constraint or self-consciousness. After the children were in bed, and the cabin in order for the night, Jack drew Desiré out on the doorstep, and, sitting down, beside her, put his arm around her.

“Now tell me all about it,” he suggested gently.

“About what, Jack?”

“Whatever’s troubling you. It’s not fair to keep me in the dark, you know.”

Dropping her head on his broad shoulder, she related, in disjointed sentences, the history of the morning.

“I guessed as much,” he commented, as she finished. “I overheard their conversation on the bus.”

“Can’t they take it, if they don’t mind not having—having—”

“A clear title? I don’t know, dear; I’ll see what I can find out from the judge tomorrow. I should say, though, that we must not expect to keep it. We talked of that possibility; don’t you remember?”

“Yes; but—such a thing seemed so—so very improbable,” faltered Desiré. “The place had been deserted for so long.”

“If we have to give it up we can probably find something in town. There’s an old place near Judge Herbine’s, and another one on the road to the Basin. Don’t take it so to heart, Dissy; we’ll find a place somewhere, even if we have to leave this; and we may not. It’s not like you to look on the dark side of things.”

Cheered by Jack’s words and manner, Desiré began to feel that she had been foolish to let herself become so disturbed, and she made a heroic effort to resume her natural manner. She succeeded so well that by bedtime they were laughing over the discovery of Rover’s latest escapade, a hole dug beside the step on which they were sitting. Jack set his foot in it as they rose to go in, thereby nearly upsetting himself and Desiré as well.

“Oh, by the way, Dissy,” remarked Jack after they had gone into the house, “I almost forgot to tell you something. You’ll never guess whom I saw today.”

“Then tell me right away.”

“My old enemy.”

“Oh, Jack!” cried Desiré fearfully. “Where?”

“On the bus. He was on his way to work in the orchards around Annapolis. He was rather friendly, for him, and just as he was leaving the bus, he thrust these into my hand and told me to give them to you.”

Desiré peered curiously at the round, brown things which her brother pulled out of his pocket.

“What are they?”

“Some kind of bulbs. You’d better plant them tomorrow.”

“What’s the use if we’re going to lose the place?” she queried, rather bitterly.

Jack looked at her reprovingly. “That doesn’t sound a bit like my cheerful partner.”

“You’re right, Jack. I’m sorry. I’ll plant them tomorrow, and if we don’t see them bloom, perhaps they will give pleasure to someone else.”

The next morning she selected a lightly shaded spot where the soil looked rich and promising, and began to dig. Before long, her spade struck a large stone.

“Wonder if I can get that out?” she thought. “This is the best place in the yard for unknown plants; for they’ll get a mixture of sun and shade.”

Vigorously she attacked the stone, and after much exertion succeeded in getting it out. Rolling it carelessly to one side, she was busily trying to smooth out the ragged, uneven earth with the spade, when there was a sound of metal striking on metal.

“Jack,” she called to her brother, who was in the house reenforcing a shelf.

“What’s wanted?” he responded, sticking his head out of the window.

“Come here, quick!”

Throwing his long legs over the sill, he dropped onto the ground and was at her side in a moment. “What’s the matter,” he asked; “snake?”

“Something’s down there,” pointing to the hole.

Jack seized the spade and quickly uncovered an iron box. Desiré was trembling violently, and could only gaze silently at the strange object.

“What have you got?” demanded René, appearing at that moment from the front yard. “Prissy!” he shrieked, without waiting for an answer, “come ’n’ see!”

Priscilla appeared, viewed the find calmly, and proposed taking it into the house to see what it contained.

“Do you think we had better take it over to the judge’s?” asked Desiré, finally finding her voice. “Perhaps we should not open it by ourselves.”

“I’ll go right after him,” declared Jack. “Just put some papers on the table so I can carry the box in and set it down before I go.”

CHAPTER XXIX

W-1755—15x12—6754

It seemed a long time before they heard the sound of the Ford, but it was in reality only about half an hour; for Jack had covered the ground at his best speed, and the judge lost no time in getting back with him.

“Well,” said Judge Herbine, darting into the room and up to the table, “lots of excitement. Got anything to open it with, Jack? It’s locked.”

With considerable difficulty they managed to force the lock, and pry up the cover. Then everyone crowded around to peer inside. The box was filled with gold and silver pieces.

“Money!” gasped Jack.

“Oh,” cried Desiré, “it must have been out there ever since the Expulsion. I read in my little blue history that some of the Acadians buried their savings in their gardens before they left the country, because they expected to come back again very soon.”

“Then it probably belonged to our ancestors,” said Jack slowly.

“Let’s tip it out,” proposed the judge. “It looks to me like a goodly sum.”

Tarnished and dull, it lay in a heap on the table; and as the judge turned the box right side up again, he caught sight of some papers in the bottom.

“Documents of some kind!” he exclaimed, loosening them carefully.

Stiff, yellow with age, the writing was dim but discernible.

“That’s a will, isn’t it?” asked Jack, catching sight of a few words at the top of the sheet, as the man unfolded it slowly.

“Exactly. ‘To my daughter, Desiré Godet and her heirs forever—’” he read. “6754-1755.”

“What?” gasped Desiré, crowding closer to look at the paper.

“This house and money; and here’s the missing deed with the will. I congratulate you—most heartily, children. This is evidently—a perfectly legal will—and the long lost deed; and since you are Godet survivors—the place and the money must belong to you.”

“Oh, Jack!” cried Desiré, throwing herself into his arms, “now you can go back to college, and nobody can ever take this house away from us. It is really our home, now, just as I always felt it was.” Desiré was sobbing in her delirium of joy.

“’N’ is all that money ours?” demanded René, staring at it with wide eyes.

“Guess it is, my boy,” replied the judge, adding to Jack, “And some of these are doubtless rare pieces—worth much more than their intrinsic value.”

“Then we can have an automobile,” pronounced René.

Everybody laughed, and the tension was somewhat relieved.

“Look, Jack,” said Desiré, “there are two of the numbers from that slip of paper that was in Father’s box.”

“What’s that?” inquired the judge, whirling around like a top.

Desiré explained while Jack got the paper and they all examined it carefully.

“1755 is the year,” decided the judge, “and 6754 the number of the deed; but—Wait a minute; I have an idea.”

Out into the garden he hurried, followed by the whole family. With the hole as a base, he measured and calculated, while the others watched silently.

“I have it!” he exclaimed at last. “W means west of the house; 15 is the depth of the hole, and 12 the distance from the edge of the lot.”

“The mystery is solved at last!” exulted Desiré.

Several weeks later the ownership of the little cabin was formally handed over to the Wistmores, under the guardianship of Judge Herbine, and their little fortune duly deposited to their credit, ready for the fall when Jack was to go to college, and Desiré to high school.