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

by Amy Bell Marlowe

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE COLESWORTHS

  Mr. Bray fell in with the boarder project, as we have seen, withenthusiasm. Although he could do nothing as yet, his mind was activeenough and he gaily planned with 'Phemie what they should do and howthey should arrange the rooms for the horde of visitors who were, theywere sure, already on their way to Hillcrest.

  "Though Lyd won't show the very first letter she's received in answer toour ad.," complained the younger sister. "What's the matter with thosefolks, Lyddy? Do they actually live right there near where we did onTrimble Avenue?"

  "That was a loft building next to us," said their father, curiously. "Whoare the people, daughter?"

  "Somebody by the name of Colesworth. The Commonwealth Chemical Companyoffice. It's about an old man to stay here."

  "One man only!" exclaimed 'Phemie.

  "With a young man--the one who writes--to come up over Sundays, Isuppose," acknowledged Lyddy, doubtfully.

  "Goody!" cried her sister. "_That_ sounds better."

  "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, 'Phemie!" chided Lyddy, with someasperity.

  But Mr. Bray only laughed. "I guess I can play 'he-chaperon' for all theyoung men who come here," he said. "Your sister is only making fun, Lydia."

  But Lyddy was more worried in secret about the Colesworth propositionthan she was ready to acknowledge. She "just felt" that Harris Colesworthwas the young man who had helped them the evening of the fire in theTrimble Avenue tenement.

  "He found out our name, of course, and when he saw my advertisement heknew who it was. He may even have found out where we were going whenwe left for the country. In some way he could have done so," thoughtLyddy, putting the young man's character before her mind in the veryworst possible light.

  "He is altogether too persistent. I hope he is as energetic in a betterway--I hope he attends to his business as faithfully as he seems to attendto _our_ affairs," continued Lyddy, bitterly.

  "I don't suppose this idea of his father coming up here into the hills isentirely an excuse for him to become familiar with--with _us_. But itlooks very much like it. I--I wonder what kind of a man old Mr. Colesworthcan be?"

  Lyddy ruminated upon the letter she had received all that day and refusedto answer it right away. Indeed, as far as she could see, the letter didnot really need an answer. This Harris Colesworth spoke just as thoughhe expected they would be only too glad to meet him on Saturday with a rig.

  "And, if it were anybody else, I suppose I would be glad to do so," Lyddyfinally had to admit. "I suppose that 'beggars mustn't be choosers'; andif this Harris Colesworth isn't a perfectly proper young man to haveabout, father will very quickly attend to _his_ case."

  Really, Lyddy Bray thought much more about the Colesworths than her sisterand father thought she did. After being urged by 'Phemie several times shefinally allowed her sister to reply to the letter, promising to have acarriage at the station for the train mentioned in Harris Colesworth'sletter.

  Of course, this meant hiring Lucas Pritchett and the buckboard. Lucas wasat Hillcrest a good deal of the time that week. He got the garden plowedand the early potatoes planted, as well as some few other seeds whichwould not be hurt by the late frosts.

  Mr. Bray got around very slowly; at first he could only walk up and downin the sun, or sit on the porch, well wrapped up.

  Like most men born in the country and forced to be city dwellers formany years, John Bray had longed more deeply than he could easily expressfor country living. He appreciated the sights and sounds about him--themellow, refreshing air that blew over the hills--the sunshine and thepattering rain which, on these early spring days, drifted alternatelyacross the fields and woods.

  With the girls he planned for the future. Some day they would have acow. There was pasture on the farm for a dozen. And already Lyddy wasstudying poultry catalogs and trying to figure out a little spare moneyto purchase some eggs for hatching.

  Of course they had no hens and at this time of the year the neighborswere likely to want their own setting hens for incubating purposes. Lyddysounded Silas Trent, the mail-carrier, about this and Mr. Trent had anoffer to make.

  "I tell ye what it is," said the garrulous Silas, "the chicken business isa good business--if ye kin 'tend to it right. I tried it--went in deepfor incubator, brooders, and the like; and it would have been all rightif I didn't hafter be away from home so much durin' the day.

  "My wife's got rheumatiz, and she can't git out to 'tend to little chicks,and for a few weeks they need a sight of attention--that's right. They'doughter be fed every two hours, or so, and watched pretty close.

  "So I had ter give it up last year, an' this year I ain't put an egg inmy incubator.

  "But if I could git 'em growed to scratchin' state--say, when they'rebroiler-size--I sartainly would like it. Tell ye what I'll do, Miss. I'lllet ye have my incubator. It's 200-egg size. In course, ye don't hafterfill it first time if ye don't wanter. Put in a hundred eggs and see howye come out."

  "But how could I pay you?" asked Lyddy.

  "I'll sell ye the incubator outright, if ye want to buy. And I'll take mypay in chickens when they're broiler-size--say three months old."

  "What do you want for your incubator?" queried Lyddy, thoughtfully.

  "Ten dollars. It's a good one. And I'll take a flock of twentythree-months-old chicks in pay for it--fifteen pullets and five cockerels.What kind of hens do you favor, Miss Bray?"

  Lyddy told him the breed she had thought of purchasing--and the strain.

  "Them's fine birds," declared Mr. Trent. "For heavy fowl they are goodlayers--and when ye butcher one of 'em for the table, ye got suthin' toeat. Now, you think my offer over. I'll stick to it. And I'll set theincubator up and show ye how to run it."

  Lyddy was very anxious to venture into the chicken business--and here wasa chance to do it cheaply. It was the five dollars for a hundred hatchingeggs that made her hesitate.

  But Aunt Jane had shown herself to be more than a little interested inthe girls' venture at Hillcrest Farm, and when she expressed the keysof the garret chests and bureaus to Lyddy--so that the girl could getat the stores of linen left from the old doctor's day--she sent, too,twenty-five dollars.

  "Keep it against emergencies. Pay it back when you can. And don't let'shave no talk about it," was the old lady's characteristic note.

  Lyddy was only doubtful as to whether this desire of hers to raisechickens was really "an emergency." But finally she decided to venture,and she wrote off for the eggs, sending the money by a post-office order,and Lucas brought up Silas Trent's incubator.

  Friday night Trent drove up to Hillcrest and spent the evening with theBrays. He set the incubator up in the little washhouse, which openeddirectly off the back porch. It was a small, tight room, with only onewindow, and was easily heated by an oil-lamp. The lamp of the incubatoritself would do the trick, Trent said.

  He leveled the machine with great care, showed Lyddy all about thetrays, the water, the regulation of heat, and gave her a lot of adviceon various matters connected with the raising of chicks with the "woodenhen."

  They were all vastly interested in the new vocation and the evening passedpleasantly enough. Just before Trent went, he asked:

  "By the way, what's Jud Spink doing up this way so much? I seen him againto-day when I came over the ridge. He was crossin' the back of your farm.He didn't have no gun; and, at any rate, there ain't nothin' in seasonjest now--'nless it's crows," and the mail-carrier laughed.

  "Spink?" asked Mr. Bray, who had not yet gone to bed. "Who is he?"

  "Lemuel Judson Spink," explained 'Phemie. "He's a man who used to livehere with grandfather when he was a boy--when _Spink_ was a boy; notgrandfather."

  "He's a rich man now," said Lyddy. "He owns a breakfast food."

  "Diamond Grits," added 'Phemie.

  "He's rich enough," grunted Trent. "Rich enough so't he can loaf aroundBridleburg for months at a time. Been here now for some time."

  "Why, co
uld that be the Spink your Aunt Jane told me once made her anoffer for the farm?" asked Mr. Bray, thoughtfully.

  "For Hillcrest?" cried 'Phemie. "Oh, I hope not."

  "Well, child, if she could sell the place it would be a good thing forJane. She has none too much money."

  "But why didn't she sell to him?" asked Lyddy, quite as anxious as hersister.

  "He didn't offer her much, if anything, for it."

  "Ain't that like Jud?" cackled Trent. "He is allus grouching about theold doctor for being as tight as the bark to a tree; but when it comesto a bargain, Jud Spink will wring yer nose ev'ry time--if he can. GladMis' Hammon' didn't sell to him."

  "Perhaps he didn't want Hillcrest very much," said Mr. Bray, quietly.

  "He don't want nothin' 'nless it's cheap," declared Trent. "He's picked upsome mortgage notes, and the like, on property he thinks he can forecloseon. Got a jedgment against the Widder Harrison's little place over theridge, I understand. But Jud Spink wouldn't pay more'n ha'f price for agold eagle. He'd claim 'twas second-hand, if it warn't fresh from themint," and the mail-carrier went off, chuckling over his own joke.

  Both Lyddy and 'Phemie forgot, however, about the curious actions of Mr.Spink, or his desire to buy Hillcrest, in their interest in the comingof the only people who had, thus far, answered their advertisement forboarders.

  Lucas met the 10:14 train on Saturday morning, and before noon he droveinto the side yard with an old gentleman and a young man on the rear seatof the buckboard.

  Before this the two girls, working hard, had swept and garnished the wholelower floor of the big farmhouse, save the east wing, which was locked.Indeed, Lyddy had never ventured into the old doctor's suite of offices,for she couldn't find the key.

  A fire had been laid and was burning cheerfully in the dining-room--thatapartment being just across the square side entrance hall from thekitchen. Lyddy was busy over the cooking arrangements when the visitorsarrived, and 'Phemie was giving the finishing touches to the table inthe dining-room.

  But Mr. Bray, leaning on his cane, met the Colesworths as they alightedfrom the buckboard. Lucas drove away at once, promising to return againwith the team in time to catch the four-fifty train back to town.

  Lyddy found time to peep out of the kitchen window. Yes! there was thatvery bold young man who had troubled her so much--at times--while theylived in Trimble Avenue.

  He met Mr. Bray with a warm handshake, and he helped his father up thewide stone steps with a delicacy that would have pleased Lyddy in anybodyelse.

  But she had made up her mind that Harris Colesworth was going to be avery objectionable person to have about, and so she would not accept hisfriendly attitude or thoughtfulness as real virtues. He might attract therest of the family--already 'Phemie was standing in the door, smiling andwith her hand held out; but Lyddy Bray proposed to watch this young manvery closely!