Marian and Alice scanned the heavens. "That cloud bank off to the south looks hopeful," said Marian after several minutes' silence.

Whether it was the weather or their unusual exertions of the preceding day or the menace of the drouth, that weighed upon them, it would be hard to say, but their interest in the Old Mission and the Indian mound on the Cook place was languid. Perhaps Ernest had been right when he declared that they were more interesting to hear about than to see. "It looks just like other houses, only the walls are thicker and the stone chimneys go clear down to the ground outside!" Katy exclaimed, distinctly disappointed at the appearance of the one-time fort.

"Of course, it was just a schoolhouse. They used it for a fort because it was stronger than any of the other houses, and, being all of stone, the Indians couldn't set it on fire so easy."

The Indian mound looked as if somebody had made a nice symmetrical sand pile about twenty feet high out in the middle of the prairie and then gra.s.sed it over neatly.

"If we could cut into it after the fashion of a birthday cake," said Captain Clarke, "you would find some very interesting things inside, I imagine, weapons and iron utensils. I should think Mr. Cook would take the trouble to explore it some day."

"I guess he isn't interested in anything unless he sees a dollar close by," Ernest replied.

They had dinner at the one decently kept hotel in Garland, and scattered along the comfortable veranda afterwards to rest and cool off.

Ernest pointed out the place near the top of the bluff where a dark spot in the rocky ledge revealed the location of the hermit's cave. "Who is ready for the climb?" he asked, rejoining the others.

"I pa.s.s," said d.i.c.k from the depths of a willow porch chair.

"And I," Marian echoed.

"I am just dying to go, Ernest, but it wouldn't be proper for me to desert my liege Lord." Alice shot a mischievous glance at the occupant of the willow chair.

"I couldn't think of leaving our guests," Frank stopped smoking long enough to say.

"Put it to a vote, Ernest, and save us the trouble of inventing excuses," remarked the Captain dryly.

"Resolved--That we stay right where we are until train time. All in favor----" He was not permitted to continue. A chorus of "Ayes" drowned him out, the Captain leading.

And they stayed until train time.

"What is it," queried Ernest as they started homeward, "about a railroad train that makes one so crazy to go along?"

"Is it the train, or merely your love of adventure?" suggested Captain Clarke.

"I think it's because a train always seems so--oh, jolly--and exciting,"

ventured Katy.

"That's only part," said Chicken Little, who had been studying; "it's wondering what's at the other end of the track that tempts you so."

"Pooh, I know what's at the other end of this track and it tempts me like sixty."

"Home?" Katy and Jane asked together.

"No, supper!"

CHAPTER XIII

CHICKEN LITTLE AND ERNEST

The household was awakened in the middle of the night by peals of thunder and the rush of rain against the windows. Chicken Little was drenched before she could get the window down next their bed.

"I don't care," she said, as she hunted out a dry gown, "it's raining and Ernest can go to college."

They slept late the following morning. The rain was coming down in a steady, business-like way that gladdened the heart of every farmer on the creek. Dr. Morton was jubilant.

"This will save the corn and make thousands of dollars difference in the hay yield in the country," he remarked at the breakfast table.

"That's what I don't like about farming," said Ernest. "So much depends on things that you can't help. A man can work like a dog, and along comes a drouth or chinch bugs or too much rain during the haying season and, presto, all his fond hopes are knocked sky high."

"Well," replied his father, "I guess there are mighty few businesses or professions where you don't have to take chances. By the way, Son, I'm beginning to be afraid your hopes of Annapolis may be disappointed. I don't understand why Senator Pratt ignores my letter this way."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Father, Captain Clarke heard at the hotel yesterday that Senator Pratt has been seriously ill for several weeks, but they've been keeping it quiet. They say he's just beginning to take up his affairs again."

"We may hear then in a day or two. I believe I'll go to town to-day--it's too wet to do any work."

The day dragged for the young people indoors. They tried dominoes and authors, but the boys soon found these tame and settled down by themselves to chess as more worthy of a masculine intellect.

The rain ceased and the sun came out about two o'clock. Gertie was in the midst of a letter home, but Katy and Chicken Little hurried outdoors into the moist, fresh air joyfully.

"Let's go get some of those summer sweetings. I'm hungry for an apple.

My, doesn't the air taste good?" Chicken Little was taking deep breaths.

They picked their way daintily to avoid the wet weeds and high gra.s.s.

The sky once more serene, receded in deep bays above the arches of foliage. Every now and then a bird, startled by their coming, flew out from the branches overhead, sending down showers of drops on their hair and shoulders.

They found the sweeting tree and Chicken Little soon had an ap.r.o.n full.

It was too wet to linger and they had started back, when Chicken Little stopped still and made a wry face. "Katy Halford, we haven't fed those pigs!"

"No sir, we haven't!"

"Say, this would be an awful good time to do it--everything's so wet, we could loosen one of the stones easy. And I guess they'll do the rest fast enough."

"If we don't give 'em much to eat they'll want to get out worse."

The days since Alice's and d.i.c.k's coming had been so full they had found no opportunity to carry out Jane's scheme for ridding themselves gracefully of their burdensome boarders. Katy had explained the plan to Gertie, who heartily endorsed it. She went back to the house after her now, while Chicken Little began scouting to see if there were anyone about. The coast seemed clear. Jim Bart had gone to look after the pasture fences, and Marian told her that Ernest and Sherm had taken the wheelbarrow and started to the south field after a load of watermelons.

"They'll be back in half an hour if you want them for anything, Jane."

Jane didn't want them for anything: she merely wanted them safely out of the way.

She sped back to the house. "Hurry, girls, everybody's gone, and Marian's putting Jilly to sleep in the bedroom on the other side of the cottage, so she won't see us. I'll go get the milk and those pea pods Annie saved."

Katy and Gertie undertook the feeding, while Chicken Little went to the tool house for pick and spade. The log pig pen was merely one corner of the big hog corral, fenced off for the benefit of the new litters to protect them from the older hogs. Stones had been securely embedded underneath the lowest rail to keep the pigs from burrowing out beneath.

Chicken Little went into the corral and inspected these, carefully trying one or two with the pick.

"Here's one that isn't very big and it's loose at one corner. Let's try it."