The Girls of Hillcrest Farm; Or, The Secret of the Rocks

by Amy Bell Marlowe

  CHAPTER V

  LUCAS PRITCHETT

  The Bray girls walked up the village street, which opened directly outof the square. It might have been a quarter of a mile in length, the redbrick courthouse facing them at the far end, flanked by the two hotels.When "court sat" Bridleburg was a livelier town than at present.

  On either hand were alternately rows of one, or two-story "blocks" ofstores and offices, or roomy old homesteads set in the midst of their ownwide, terraced lawns.

  There were a few pleasant-looking people on the walks and most of theseturned again to look curiously after the Bray girls. Strangers--save incourt week--were a novelty in Bridleburg, that was sure.

  Market Street was wide and maple-shaded. Here and there before the storeswere "hitching racks"--long wooden bars with iron rings set every fewfeet--to which a few horses, or teams, were hitched. Many of the vehicleswere buckboards, much appreciated in the hill country; but there werefarm wagons, as well. It was for one of these latter the Bray girls werein search. The station agent had described Lucas Pritchett's rig.

  "There it is," gasped the quick-eyed 'Phemie, "Oh, Lyd! _do_ look at thoseponies. They're as ragged-looking as an old cowhide trunk."

  "And that wagon," sighed Lyddy. "Shall we ride in it? We'll be a sightgoing through the village."

  "We'd better wait and see if he'll take us," remarked 'Phemie. "But Ishould worry about what people here think of us!"

  As she spoke a lanky fellow, with a lean and sallow face, lounged outof the post-office and across the walk to the heads of thedisreputable-looking ponies. He wore a long snuff-colored overcoat thatmight have been in the family for two or three generations, and hisoveralls were stuck into the tops of leg-boots.

  "That's Lucas--sure," whispered 'Phemie.

  But she hung back, just the same, and let her sister do the talking.And the first effect of Lyddy's speech upon Lucas Pritchett was mostdisconcerting.

  "Good morning!" Lyddy said, smiling upon the lanky young farmer. "You areMr. Lucas Pritchett, I presume?"

  He made no audible reply, although his lips moved and they saw his veryprominent Adam's apple rise and fall convulsively. A wave of red suddenlywashed up over his face like a big breaker rolling up a sea-beach; andeach individual freckle at once took on a vividness of aspect that wasfairly startling to the beholder.

  "You _are_ Mr. Pritchett?" repeated Lyddy, hearing a sudden half-strangledgiggle from 'Phemie, who was behind her.

  "Ya-as--I be," finally acknowledged the bashful Lucas, that Adam's applegoing up and down again like the slide on a trombone.

  "You are going home without much of a load; aren't you, Mr. Pritchett?"pursued Lyddy, with a glance into the empty wagon-body.

  "Ya-as--I be," repeated Lucas, with another gulp, trying to look at bothgirls at once and succeeding only in looking cross-eyed.

  "We are going to be your nearest neighbors, Mr. Pritchett," said Lyddy,briskly. "Our aunt, Mrs. Hammond, has loaned us Hillcrest to live in andwe have our baggage and some other things at the railway station to becarted up to the house. Will you take it--and us? And how much will youcharge?"

  Lucas just gasped--'Phemie declared afterward, "like a dying fish." Thiswas altogether too much for Lucas to grasp at once; but he had followedLyddy up to a certain point. He held forth a broad, grimed, callousedpalm, and faintly exclaimed:

  "You're Mis' Hammon's nieces? Do tell! Maw'll be pleased to see ye--an'so'll Sairy."

  He shook hands solemnly with Lyddy and then with 'Phemie, who flashed himbut a single glance from her laughing eyes. The "Italian sunset effect,"as 'Phemie dubbed Lucas's blushes, began to fade out of his countenance.

  "Can you take us home with you?" asked Lyddy, impatient to settle thematter.

  "I surely can," exclaimed Lucas. "You hop right in."

  "No. We want to know what you will charge first--for us and the thingsat the depot?"

  "Not a big load; air they?" queried Lucas, doubtfully. "You know thehill's some steep."

  Lyddy enumerated the packages, Lucas checking them off with nods.

  "I see," he said. "We kin take 'em all. You hop in----"

  But 'Phemie was pulling the skirt of her sister's jacket and Lyddy said:

  "No. We have some errands to do. We'll meet you up the street. That isyour way home?" and she indicated the far end of Market Street.

  "Ya-as."

  "And what will you charge us?"

  "Not more'n a dollar, Miss," he said, grinning. "I wouldn't ax ye nothin';but this is dad's team and when I git a job like this he allus expectshis halvings."

  "All right, Mr. Pritchett. We'll pay you a dollar," agreed Lyddy, in hersedate way. "And we'll meet you up the street."

  Lucas unhitched the ponies and stepped into the wagon. When he turned themand gave them their heads the ragged little beasts showed that they werea good deal like the proverbial singed cat--far better than they looked.

  "I thought you didn't care what people thought of you here?" observedLyddy to her sister, as the wagon went rattling down the street. "Yetit seems you don't wish to ride through Bridleburg in Mr. Pritchett'swagon."

  "My goodness!" gasped 'Phemie, breathless from giggling. "I don't mindthe wagon. But _he's_ a freak, Lyd!"

  "Sh!"

  "Did you ever see such a face? And those freckles!" went on the girl,heedless of her sister's admonishing voice.

  "Somebody may hear you," urged Lyddy.

  "What if?"

  "And repeat what you say to him."

  "And _that_ should worry me!" returned 'Phemie, gaily. "Oh, dear, Lyd!don't be a grump. This is all a great, big joke--the people and all. AndLucas is certainly the capsheaf. Did you ever in your life before evenimagine such a freak?"

  But Lyddy would not join in her hilarity.

  "These country people may seem peculiar to us, who come fresh from thecity," she said, with some gravity. "But I wonder if we don't appear quiteas 'queer' and 'green' to them as they do to us?"

  "We couldn't," gasped 'Phemie. "Hurry on, Lyd. Don't let him overtake usbefore we get to the edge of town."

  They passed the courthouse and waited for Lucas and the farm wagon on theoutskirts of the village--where the more detached houses gave place toopen fields. No plow had been put into these lower fields as yet; still,the coming spring had breathed upon the landscape and already the banks bythe wayside were turning green.

  'Phemie became enthusiastic at once and before Lucas hove in view,evidently anxiously looking for them, the younger girl had gathered agreat bunch of early flowers.

  "They're mighty purty," commented the young farmer, as the girls climbedover the wheel with their muddy boots and all.

  'Phemie, giggling, took her seat on the other side of him. She had givenone look at the awkwardly arranged load on the wagon-body and at oncebecame helpless with suppressed laughter. If the girls she had workedwith in the millinery store for the last few months could see them andtheir "lares and penates" perched upon this farm wagon, with this son ofJehu for a driver!

  "I reckon you expect to stay a spell?" said Lucas, with a significantglance from the conglomerate load to Lyddy.

  "Yes--we hope to," replied the oldest Bray girl. "Do you think the houseis in very bad shape inside?"

  "I dunno. We never go in it, Miss," responded Lucas, shaking his head."Mis' Hammon' never left us the key--not to upstairs. Dad's stored ciderand vinegar in the cellar under the east ell for sev'ral years. It's abetter cellar'n we've got.

  "An' I dunno what dad'll say," he added, "to your goin' up there to live."

  "What's he got to do with it?" asked 'Phemie, quickly.

  "Why, we work the farm on shares an' we was calc'latin' to do so thisyear."

  "Our living in the house doesn't interfere with that arrangement," saidLyddy, quietly. "Aunt Jane told us all about that. I have a letter fromher for your father."

  "Aw--well," commented Lucas, slowly.

  The ponies had begun to mount the rise in earnest now. They tugge
d eagerlyat the load, and trotted on the level stretches as though tireless. Lyddycommented upon this, and Lucas flushed with delight at her praise.

  "They're hill-bred, they be," he said, proudly. "Tackle 'em to a buggy, ora light cart, an' up hill or down hill means the same to 'em. They won'tbreak their trot.

  "When it comes plowin' time we clip 'em, an' then they don't look so badin harness," confided the young fellow. "If--if you like, I'll take youdrivin' over the hills some day--when the roads git settled."

  "Thank you," responded Lyddy, non-committally.

  But 'Phemie giggled "How nice!" and watched the red flow into the youngfellow's face with wicked appreciation.

  The roads certainly had not "settled" after the winter frosts, if this onethey were now climbing was a proper sample. 'Phemie and Lyddy held on withboth hands to the smooth board which served for a seat to the springlesswagon--and they were being bumped about in a most exciting way.

  'Phemie began to wonder if Lucas was not quite as much amused by theirunfamiliarity with this method of transportation as she was by hisbashfulness and awkward manners. Lyddy fairly wailed, at last:

  "Wha--what a dread--dreadful ro-o-o-ad!" and she seized Lucas suddenly bythe arm nearest to her and frankly held on, while the forward wheel on herside bounced into the air.

  "Oh, this ain't bad for a mountain road," the young farmer declared,calmly.

  "Oh, oh!" squealed 'Phemie, the wheel on her side suddenly sinking intoa deep rut, so that she slid to the extreme end of the board.

  "Better ketch holt on me, Miss," advised Lucas, crooking the arm nearest'Phemie. "You city folks ain't useter this kind of travelin', I can see."

  But 'Phemie refused, unwilling to be "beholden" to him, and the very nextmoment the ponies clattered over a culvert, through which the brown floodof a mountain stream spurted in such volume that the pool below the roadwas both deep and angry-looking.

  There was a washout gullied in the road here. Down went the wheel on'Phemie's side, and with the lurch the young girl lost her insecure holdupon the plank.

  With a screech she toppled over, plunging sideways from the wagon-seat,and as the hard-bitted ponies swept on 'Phemie dived into thefoam-streaked pool!