Part 13 (1/2)
She kissed him tenderly, and turned to meet her brother.
”I was tired of staying in there alone,” said Horace. ”h.e.l.lo, Everett!
It was nice of you, old chap, to ask me along to Dryden. That's my one failing in the fall--I always go. Let me see--you didn't go last year, did you, Everett?”
”No; but I knew that Ann wanted to go this year, and I thought a party would be pleasant. I asked Katherine Vandecar; but her aunt is such an invalid that Katherine can scarcely ever leave her.”
”Mrs. Vandecar is ill,” said Ann. ”I called there yesterday, and she is the frailest looking woman I ever saw.”
”She's never got over the loss of her children,” rejoined Everett. ”It's hard on Vandecar, too, to have her ill. He looks ten years older than he is.”
”Yes; but their little Mildred is such a comfort to them both!”
interjected Ann. ”They watch the child like hawks. I suppose it's only natural after their awful experience. Isn't it strange that two children could disappear from the face of the earth and not a word be heard from them in all these years?”
”They're probably dead,” replied Horace gently, and silence fell upon them.
CHAPTER NINE
Flea and Flukey Cronk, followed by the yellow dog, made their way farther and farther from Ithaca. They had left the university in the distance, when a dim streak of light warned them that day was approaching. It was here that Flea lagged behind her brother.
”Ye're tired, Flea,” said Flukey.
”Yep.”
”Will ye crawl into a haystack if we come to one?”
”Yep.”
They spoke no more until, farther on, a farmhouse, with dark barns in the rear, loomed up before them.
”Ye wait here, Flea,” said Flukey, ”till I see where we can sleep.”
After an absence of a few minutes he returned and in silence conducted the girl by a roundabout way to a newly piled stack of hay.
”I burried a place for us both,” he whispered. ”Ye crawl in first, Flea, and I'll bring in s.n.a.t.c.het. Lift yer leg up high and ye'll find the hole.”
A minute later they were tucked away from the cold morning, their small faces overshadowed by the new-mown hay, and here, through the morning hours, they slept soundly. Then again they set forth, and it was late in the afternoon when they drew up before the high fence encircling the fair-grounds at Dryden. The fall fair was in full blast. Crowds were pa.s.sing in and out of the several gates. With longing heart, first Flea, then Flukey, placed an eye to a knothole, to watch the proceedings inside. Rows of sleek cattle waved their blue and red ribbons jauntily in the breeze; fat pigs, with the owners' names pasted on the cards in front, grunted in small pens. For a time the twins stood side by side, wis.h.i.+ng with all their might that they were possessed of the necessary entrance-fee.
”If I could get a job,” said Flukey, ”we could get in.”
”I could work, too,” said Flea, her hands dug deep in her trousers pockets.
Just then a man hailed them. ”Want to get in, Kids?” he asked.
”Yep!” bawled Flea and Flukey in unison, their hunger forgotten in this new delight.
”Then help me carry in those boards, and then you can stay in.”
Flukey looked apprehensively at Flea.