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

by Amy Bell Marlowe

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE QUEER BOARDER

  Spring marched on apace those days. The garden at Hillcrest began totake form, and the green things sprouted beautifully. Lucas Pritchettwas working very hard, for his father did not allow him to neglect anyof his regular work to keep the contract the young man had made withLyddy Bray.

  In another line the prospect for a crop was anxiously canvassed, too. Theeggs Lyddy had sent for had arrived and, after running the incubator fora couple of days to make sure that they understood it, the girls put thehundred eggs into the trays.

  The eggs were guaranteed sixty per cent. fertile and after eight daysthey tested them as Trent had advised. They left eighty-seven eggs in theincubator after the test.

  But the incubator took an enormous amount of attention--at least, thegirls thought it did.

  This was not so bad by day; but they went to bed tired enough at night,and Lyddy was sure the lamp should be looked to at midnight.

  It was three o'clock the first night before 'Phemie awoke with a start,and lay with throbbing pulse and with some sound ringing in her earswhich she could not explain immediately. But almost at once she recalledanother night--their first one at Hillcrest--when she had gone ramblingabout the lower floor of the old house.

  But she thought of the incubator and leaped out of bed. The lamp mighthave flared up and cooked all those eggs. Or it might have expired andleft them to freeze out there in the washhouse.

  She did not arouse Lyddy, but slipped into her wrapper and slippers andcrept downstairs with her candle. There _had_ been a sound that arousedher. She heard somebody moving about the kitchen.

  "Surely father hasn't got up--he promised he wouldn't," thought 'Phemie.

  She was not afraid of outside marauders now. Both Mr. Somers and youngMr. Colesworth were in the house. 'Phemie went boldly into the kitchenfrom the hall.

  The porch door opened and a wavering light appeared--another candle.There was Harris Colesworth, in _his_ robe and slippers, coming fromthe direction of the washhouse.

  'Phemie shrank back and hid by the foot of the stairs. But she was notquick enough in putting her light out--or else he heard her giggle.

  "Halt! who goes there?" demanded Colesworth, in a sepulchral voice.

  "A--a fr-r-riend," chattered 'Phemie.

  "Advance, friend, and give the countersign," commanded the young man.

  "Chickens!" gasped 'Phemie, convulsed with laughter.

  "You'd have had fried eggs, maybe, for all your interest in theincubator," said Harris, with a chuckle. "So 'Chickens' is no longer thepassword."

  "Oh, they didn't get too hot?" pleaded the girl, in despair.

  "Nope. This is the second time I've been out. To tell you the truth," saidHarris, laughing, "I think the incubator is all right and will work like acharm; but I understand they're a good deal like ships--likely to developsome crotchet at almost any time."

  "But it's good of you to take the trouble to look at it for us."

  "Sure it is!" he laughed. "But that's what I'm on earth for--to dogood--didn't you know that, Miss 'Phemie?"

  She told her sister about Harris Colesworth's kindness in the morning.But Lyddy took it the other way about.

  "I declare! he can't keep his fingers out of our pie at any stage of thegame; can he?" she snapped.

  "Why, Lyd!"

  "Oh--don't talk to me!" returned her older sister, who seemed to be rathersnappish this morning. "That young man is getting on my nerves."

  It was Sunday and the Colesworths had engaged a two-seated carriagein town to take Mrs. Castle and Mr. Bray with them to church. Therewas a seat beside Mr. Somers, behind Old Molly, for one of the girls.The teacher plainly wanted to take Lyddy, but that young lady had notrecovered from her ill-temper of the early morning.

  "Lyd got out of bed on the wrong side this morning," said 'Phemie.However, she went with Mr. Somers in her sister's stead.

  And Lyddy Bray was glad to be left alone. No one could honestly callHillcrest Farm a lonesome place these days!

  "I'm not sure that I wouldn't be glad to be alone here again, with just'Phemie and father," the young girl told herself. "There is one drawbackto keeping a boarding house--one has no privacy. In trying to make ithomelike for the boarders, we lose all our own home life. Ah, dear, well!at least we are earning our support."

  For Lyddy Bray kept her books carefully, and she had been engaged inthis new business long enough to enable her to strike a balance. From herpresent boarders she was receiving thirty-one and a half dollars weekly.At least ten of it represented her profit.

  But the two young girls were working very hard. The cooking was becominga greater burden because of the makeshifts necessary at the open fire.And the washing of bed and table linen was a task that was becoming tooheavy for them.

  "If we had a couple of other good paying boarders," mused Lyddy, as shesat resting on the side porch, "we might afford to take somebody into thekitchen to help us. It would have to be somebody who would work cheap,of course; we could pay no fancy wages. But we need help."

  As she thus ruminated she was startled by seeing a figure cross the fieldfrom behind the barn. It was not Cyrus Pritchett, although the farmerspent most of his Sabbaths wandering about the fields examining the crops.Corn had not yet been planted, anyway--not here on the Hillcrest Farm.

  But this was a man fully as large as Cyrus Pritchett. As he drew nearer,Lyddy thought that he was a man she had never seen before.

  He wore a broad-brimmed felt hat--of the kind affected by Westernstatesmen. His black hair--rather oily-looking it was, like anIndian's--flowed to the collar of his coat.

  That coat was a frock, but it was unbuttoned, displaying a pearl grayvest and trousers of the same shade. He even wore gray spats over hisshoes and was altogether more elaborately dressed than any native Lyddyhad heretofore seen.

  He came across the yard at a swinging stride, and took off his hat with aflourish. She saw then that his countenance was deeply tanned, that hehad a large nose, thick, smoothly-shaven lips, and heavy-lidded eyes.

  "Miss Bray, I have no doubt?" he began, recovering from his bow.

  Lyddy had risen rather quickly, and only nodded. She scarcely knew what tomake of this stranger--and she was alone.

  "Pray sit down again," he urged, with a wave of his hand. "And allow meto sit here at your feet. It is a lovely day--but warm."

  "It is, indeed," admitted Lyddy, faintly.

  "You have a beautiful view of the valley here."

  "Yes, sir."

  "I am told below," said the man, with a free gesture taking in Bridleburgand several square miles of surrounding country, "that you take boardershere at Hillcrest?"

  "Yes, sir," said Lyddy again.

  "Good! Your rooms are not yet all engaged, my dear young lady?" said theman, who seemed unable to discuss the simplest subject without using whatlater she learned to call "his platform manner."

  "Oh, no; we haven't many guests as yet."

  "Good!" he exclaimed again. Then, after a moment's pursing of his lips,he added: "This is not strictly speaking a legal day for making bargains.But we may _talk_ of an arrangement; mayn't we?"

  "I do not understand you, sir," said Lyddy.

  "Ah! No! I am referring to the possibility of my taking board with you,Miss Bray."

  "I see," responded the girl, with sudden interest. "Do you think you wouldbe suited with the accommodations we have to offer?"

  "Ah, my dear miss!" he exclaimed, with a broad smile. "I am an oldcampaigner. I have slept gypsy-fashion under the stars many and many anight. A straw pallet has often been my lot. Indeed, I am naturallysimple of taste and habit."

  He said all this with an air as though entirely different demands mightreasonably be expected of such as he. He evidently had a very good opinionof himself.

  Lyddy did not much care for his appearance; but he was respectably--ifstrikingly--dressed, and he was perfectly respectful.

  "I will show you what we h
ave," said Lyddy, and rose and accompanied himthrough the house.

  "You do not let any of the rooms in the east wing?" he asked, finally.

  "No, sir. Neither upstairs nor down. We probably shall not disturb thoserooms at all."

  Finally they talked terms. The stranger seemed to forget all his scruplesabout doing business on Sunday, for he was a hard bargainer. As a resulthe obtained from Lyddy quite as good accommodations as Mrs. Castlehad--and for two dollars less per week.

  Not until they had come downstairs did Lyddy think to ask him his name.

  "And one not unknown to fame, my dear young lady," he said, drawing outhis cardcase. "Famous in more than one field of effort, too--as you maysee.

  "Your terms are quite satisfactory, I will have my trunk brought up inthe morning, and I will do myself the honor to sup with you to-morrowevening. Good-day, Miss Bray," and he lifted his hat and went awaywhistling, leaving Lyddy staring in surprise at the card in her hand:

  PROF. LEMUEL JUDSON SPINK, M.D. Proprietor: Stonehedge Bitters Likewise of the World Famous DIAMOND GRITS "_The Breakfast of the Million_"

  "Why! it's the Spink man we've heard so much about--the boy who was takenout of the poorhouse by grandfather. I--I wonder if I have done right totake him as a boarder?" murmured Lyddy at last.