Part 18 (1/2)
”What!” exclaimed Patty, remembering the barefoot track at the spring.
”I wasn't yere las' time.”
Patty curbed a desire to laugh. The girl was deliberately lying--but why? Was it because she feared displeasure at the invasion of the cabin. Patty thought not, for such was the established custom of the country. The girl did not look at her, but stood boring into the dirt with her bare toe.
”Well, you're here now, anyway,” smiled Patty. ”Come on in and help me get supper, and then we'll eat. You get the water, while I build the fire.”
When the girl returned from the spring, Patty tried again: ”While I was in town somebody came here and cooked a meal, and when they got through they washed all the dishes and put them away so nicely I thought sure it was you, and I was glad, because I like to have you come and see me.”
”Hit wasn't me,” repeated the girl, stubbornly.
”I wonder who it could have been?”
”Mebbe hit was Mr. Christie. He was to our house las' night. He brung Davy some pencils an' a lot o' papers fer to draw pitchers. Pa 'lowed how Davy'd git to foolin' away his time on 'em, an' Mr. Christie says how ef he learnt to drawer good, folks buys 'em, an' then Davy'll git rich. Pa says, whut's folks gonna pay money fer pitchers they kin git 'em fer nothin'? But ef folks gits pitchers they does git rich, don't they?”
”Why, yes----”
”You got pitchers, an' yo' rich.”
Patty laughed. ”I'm afraid I'm not very rich,” she said.
”Will yo' give me a pitcher?”
”Why, yes.” She glanced at the few prints that adorned the log wall, trying to make up her mind which she would part with, and deciding upon a mysterious moonlight-on-the-waves effect, lifted it from the wall and placed it in the girl's hands.
Microby Dandeline stared at it without enthusiasm: ”I want a took one,” she said, at length.
”A what?”
”A one tooken with that,” she pointed at the camera that adorned the top of the little cupboard.
”Oh,” smiled Patty, ”you want me to take your picture! All right, I'd love to take your picture. You can get on Gee Dot, and I'll take you both. But we'll have to wait till there is more light. The sun has gone down and it's too dark this evening.”
The girl shook her head, ”Naw, I don't want none like that. That hain't no good. I want one like yo' pa tookened of his mine. Then I'll git rich too.”
”So that's it,” thought Patty, busying herself with the biscuit dough.
And instantly there flashed into her mind the words of Ma Watts, ”Mr.
Bethune tellin' her how she'd git rich ef she could fin' a gol' mine, an' how she could buy her fine clos' like yourn an' go to the city an'
live.” And she remembered that the woman had said that all the time she and Lord Clendenning had been wrangling over the eggs, Bethune and Microby had ”talked an' laughed, friendly as yo' please.”
”How do you know my father took any pictures of his mine?” asked Patty, cautiously.
”'Cause he did.”
”What would you do with the picture if I gave it to you?”
”I'd git rich.”
”How?”