Part 2 (2/2)

Betty hurried over to her lamp, lit it, and set it on the window sill.

”He'll see it from the barn,” she argued wisely, ”and know that I am not asleep.”

Her reasoning proved correct, for in a few minutes a well-known whistle sounded below her window. She blew out the light and leaned out.

”Oh, Betty!” Bob's tone was one of repressed excitement. ”I've got something great to tell you.”

”Have you had any supper?” demanded Betty, more concerned with that question than with any news. ”I've something for you, if you're hungry.”

”Hungry? Gee, I'm starved!” was the response. ”I didn't dare stop to ask for a meal anywhere, because I knew I'd be late getting home as it was. The horse was never cut out for a saddle horse; I'm so stiff I don't believe I can move to-morrow. Where's the eats?”

”Here. I'll let it down in a moment,” answered Betty, tying a string to the parcel. ”Sorry it isn't more, Bob, but the larder's getting low again.”

Bob untied the can and cracker box she lowered to him, and Betty pulled in the string to be preserved for future use.

”Thanks, awfully,” said Bob. ”You're a brick, Betty. And, say, what do you think I heard over in Trowbridge?”

”Don't talk so loud!” cautioned Betty. ”What, Bob?”

”Why, the poorhouse farm is this side of the town,” said Bob, munching a cracker with liveliest manifestations of appreciation.

”Coming back to-night--that's what made me late--Jim Turner, who's poormaster now, called me in. Said he had something to tell me. It seems there was a queer old duffer spent one night there a while back --Jim thought it must have been a month ago. He has a secondhand bookshop in Was.h.i.+ngton, and he came to the poorhouse to look at some old books they have there--thought they might be valuable. They opened all the records to him, and Jim says he was quite interested when he came to my mother's name. Asked a lot of questions about her and wanted to see me. Jim said he was as queer as could be, and all they could get out of him was that maybe he could tell me something to interest me. He wouldn't give any of the poorhouse authorities an inkling of what he knew, and insisted that he'd have to see me first.”

”Where is he?” demanded Betty energetically. ”I hope you didn't come away without seeing him, Bob. What's his name? How does he look?”

”His name,” said Bob slowly, ”is Lockwood Hale. And he went back to Was.h.i.+ngton the next day.”

Betty's air castles tumbled with a sickening slump.

”Bob Henderson!” she cried, remembering, however, to keep her voice low. ”The idea! Do you mean to tell me they let that man go without notifying you? Why I never heard of anything so mean!”

”Oh, I'm not important,” explained Bob, quite without bitterness.

”Poorhouse heads don't put themselves out much for those under 'em --though Jim Turner's always treated me fair enough. But Lockwood Hale had to go back to Was.h.i.+ngton the next day, Betty. There honestly wasn't time to send for me.”

”Perhaps they gave him your address,” said Betty hopefully. ”But, oh, Bob, you say he was there a month ago?”

Bob nodded unhappily.

”He hasn't my address,” he admitted. ”Jim says he meant to give it to him, but the old fellow left suddenly without saying a word to any one. Jim thought maybe he had the name in mind and would write anyway. I'd get it, you know, if it went to the poorhouse. But I guess Hale's memory is like a ragbag--stuffed with odds and ends that he can't get hold of when he wants 'em. No, Betty, I guess the only thing for me to do is to go to Was.h.i.+ngton.”

”Well, if you don't go to bed, young man, I'll come down there and help you along,” an angry whisper came from the little window up under the roof. ”You've been babbling and babbling steady for half an hour,” grumbled the annoyed Ethan. ”How do you expect me to get any sleep with that racket going on? Come on up to bed before the old man wakes up.”

Thankful that it was Ethan instead of Mr. Peabody, Bob gathered up his sardines and the remnants of the crackers and tiptoed up the attic stairs to the room he shared with the hired man.

Betty hastily slipped into bed, and though Bob's news had excited her, she was tired enough to fall asleep readily.

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