Her upbringing had indeed made her what she was. She thought more deeply than other children of her age. Her nature was the logical outgrowth of such training as she had received from a.s.sociating with older people.

She was seriously desirous of seeing Uncle Joe and Miss Amanda made happy in their love for each other. She was a born matchmaker-there was no doubt of that.

During the time that the nurse was at the abandoned lumber camp caring for Judy Mason, Carolyn May hoped that something might take Uncle Joe there. She even tried to get him to drive her over to see Miss Amanda on Sunday afternoon. But Uncle Joe did not keep a horse himself, and he would not be coaxed into hiring one for any such excursion.

"Besides, what would your Aunty Rose say?" he asked his little niece.

"She would not approve of our doing such a thing on the Lord's Day, I am sure."

Nevertheless, he was as eager as a boy to do it. It was because he shrank from having the neighbours comment on his doing the very thing he desired to do that he so sternly refused to consider Carolyn May's suggestion. Those neighbours might think that he was deliberately going to call on Miss Amanda!

The next Friday, after school was out, Miss Amanda appeared at the Stagg home and suggested taking Carolyn May into the woods with her, "for the week-end," as she laughingly said. Tim, the hackman, had brought the nurse home for a few hours and would take her back to Judy's cabin.

"Poor old Judy is much better, but she is still suffering and cannot be left alone for long," Miss Amanda said. "Carolyn May will cheer her up."

Delighted, Carolyn May ran to get ready. Spring was far advanced and the woods were very beautiful. And to stay all night-two whole nights-in a log cabin seemed wonderfully attractive to the little girl.

Aunty Rose let her go because she knew that Uncle Joe would approve of it. Indeed, they had talked the matter over already. Carolyn May missed Miss Amanda so that the hardware dealer had already agreed to some such arrangement as this. Mr. Parlow would drive over on Sunday afternoon and bring the little girl home. Of course, Prince had to go along.

That Friday evening at supper matters in the big kitchen of the Stagg house were really at a serious pa.s.s. Joseph Stagg sat down to the table visibly without appet.i.te. Aunty Rose drank one cup of tea after another without putting a crumb between her lips.

"What's the matter with you to-night, Joseph Stagg?" his housekeeper finally demanded. "Aren't the victuals good enough for you?"

"No," said Mr. Stagg drily, "I think they're poisoned. You don't expect me to eat if you don't set an example, do you?"

"What I do has nothing to do with you, Joseph Stagg," said Mrs. Kennedy, bridling. "I'm pecking and tasting at victuals all day long. I get so I despise 'em."

"Yes," returned Mr. Stagg. "And if Hannah's Car'lyn don't come back, I shall get to despise 'em, too."

"Ha!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old lady. "You do miss the little thing."

"Miss her? Bless me! I wouldn't believe it made so much difference having her about. It's knowing she really is away, and is going to be gone for a couple of days, that's the matter, I s'pose. Say, Aunty Rose!"

"What is it, Joseph Stagg?"

"What under the sun did we do before Hannah's Car'lyn came here, anyway?

Seems to me we didn't really live, did we?"

Aunty Rose had no answer to make to these questions.

Uncle Joe missed kissing the little girl good-night. He even missed the rattle of Prince's chain at the dog-house when he came back from the store late in the evening.

The air had grown heavy and close, and he stood on the porch for a minute and snuffed knowingly at the odour a good deal as the dog might.

"There's a fire over the mountain, I guess," he said to Aunty Rose when he entered the house. "We're having a dry spring."

They went to bed. In the morning there was a smoky fog over everything-a fog that the sun did not dissipate, and behind which it looked like an enormous saffron ball.

Mr. Stagg went down to the store as usual. On the way he pa.s.sed the Parlow place, and he saw the carpenter in his shop door. Parlow was gazing with seeming anxiety into the fog cloud, his face turned towards the forest. Joseph Stagg did not know that, in all the years of their estrangement, the carpenter had never been so near speaking to the hardware dealer.

The smoky tang in the air was as strong in Sunrise Cove as out in the country. The shopkeepers were talking about the fire. News had come over the long-distance wires that thousands of acres of woodland were burning, that the forest reserves were out, and that the farmers of an entire township on the far side of the mountain were engaged in trying to make a barrier over which the flames would not leap. It was the consensus of opinion, however, that the fire would not cross the range.

It never had on former occasions, and the wind was against such an advance. The top of the ridge was covered with boulders and the vegetation was scant.

"Scarcely any chance of its swooping down on us," decided Mr. Stagg.

"Reckon I won't have to go home to plough fire furrows."

At the usual hour he started for The Corners for dinner. Having remained in the store all the morning, he had not realised how much stronger the smell of smoke was than it had been at breakfast time. Quite involuntarily he quickened his pace.

The fog and smoke overcast the sky thickly and made it of a bra.s.sy colour, just as though a huge copper pot had been overturned over the earth. Women stood at their doors, talking back and forth together in low tones. There was a spirit of expectancy in the air. Every person he saw was affected by it.

There seemed scarcely any danger of a forest fire sweeping in upon Sunrise Cove, or even upon The Corners. There was too much cleared land surrounding the town. But what was happening on the other side of the mountain? The peril that other people were in moved his neighbours.

Joseph Stagg was affected himself. And for another reason.

Down in the thick woods, ten miles away, were two women and a child in a cabin. Suppose the fire _should_ cross the range?

The hardware merchant was striding along at a quick pace when he came to the Parlow place; but he was not going so fast that he did not hear the carpenter hailing him in his cracked voice.

"Hey, you, Joe Stagg! Hey, you!"

Amazed, Mr. Stagg turned to look. Parlow was hobbling from the rear premises, groaning at every step, scarcely able to walk.

"That sciatica's got me ag'in," he snarled. "I'm a'most doubled up.

Couldn't climb into a carriage to save my soul."

"What d'you want to climb into a carriage for?" demanded Mr. Stagg.

"'Cause somebody's got to go for that gal of mine-and little Car'lyn May. Ain't you heard-or is your mind so sot on makin' money down there to your store that you don't know nothin' else?"

"Haven't I heard what?" returned the other with fine restraint, for he saw the old man was in pain.

"The fire's come over to this side. I saw the flames myself. And Aaron Crummit drove through and says that you can't git by on the main road.

The fire's followed the West Brook right down and is betwixt us and Adams' old camp."

"Bless me!" gasped the hardware dealer, paling under his tan.

"Wal?" snarled Parlow. "Goin' to stand there chatterin' all day, or be you goin' to do something?"

CHAPTER XXV-THE FOREST FIRE

"Somebody must get over to that cabin and bring them out," Joseph Stagg said, without taking offence at the crabbed old carpenter.

"Wal!" exclaimed Parlow, "glad ter see you're awake."

"Oh, I'm awake," the other returned shortly. "I was just figuring on who's got the best horse."