"You girls will baby me to death!" cried Mr. Bray, wiping his eyes. "I refuse to be laid on the shelf. I hope I am not useless----"

"My goodness me! Far from it," cried 'Phemie. "But you'll be lots more help to us when you are perfectly well and strong again."

"There'll be plenty you can do without taxing your strength--and without keeping you indoors," Lyddy added. "Just think if we get the chicken business started. You can do all of that--after the biddies are hatched."

"I feel so much better already, girls," declared their father, gravely, "that I am sure I shall have a giant's strength before fall."

Aunt Jane had written them, however, certain advice which the doctor at the hospital had given to her regarding Mr. Bray. He was to be discouraged from performing any heavy tasks of whatsoever nature, and his diet was to consist mainly of milk and eggs--tissue-building fuel for the system.

He had worked so long in the hat shop that his lungs were in a weakened state, if not actually affected. For months they would have to watch him carefully. And to return to his work in the city would be suicidal.

Therefore were Lyddy and 'Phemie more than ever anxious to make the boarders' project pay. And with the Colesworths' fifteen dollars a week it seemed as though a famous start had been made in that direction.

By serving simple food, plainly cooked, Lyddy was confident that she could keep the table for all five from the board paid by Mr. Colesworth and his son. If they got other boarders, a goodly share of _their_ weekly stipends could be added on the profit side of the ledger.

Lucas helped them for a couple of hours Monday morning, and the girls managed to put the room the newcomers had chosen into readiness for the old gentleman. Lucas drove to town to meet Mr. Colesworth. Lucas was beginning to make something out of the Bray girls' project, too, and he grinned broadly as he said to 'Phemie:

"I'm goin' to be able to put up for a brand new buggy nex' fall, Miss 'Phemie--a better one than Joe Badger's got. What 'twixt this cartin'

boarders over the roads, and makin' Miss Lyddy's garden, I'm going to be well fixed."

"On the road to be a millionaire; are you, Lucas?" suggested 'Phemie, laughing.

"Nope. Jest got one object in view," grinned Lucas.

"What's that?"

"I wanter drive you to church in my new buggy, and make Joe Badger an'

that Nettie Meyers look like thirty cents. That's what _I_ want."

"Oh, Lucas! _That_ isn't a very high ambition," she cried.

"But it's goin' to give me an almighty lot of satisfaction," declared the young farmer. "You won't go back on me; will yer, Miss 'Phemie?"

"I'll ride with you--of course," replied 'Phemie. "But I'd just as lief go in the buckboard."

"Now _that_," said the somewhat puzzled Lucas, "is another thing that makes you gals diff'rent from the gals around here."

Old Mr. Colesworth came and made himself at home very quickly. He played cribbage with Mr. Bray in the evening while the girls did up the work and sewed; and during the early days of his stay with them he proved to be a very pleasant old gentleman, with few crotchets, and no special demands upon the girls for attention.

He walked a good deal, proved to be something of a geologist, and pottered about the rocky section of the farm with a little hammer and bag for hours together.

As Mr. Bray could walk only a little way, Mr. Colesworth did most of his rambling about Hillcrest alone. And he grew fonder and fonder of the place as the first week advanced.

As far as his entertainment went, he could have no complaint as to that, for he was getting all that Lyddy had promised him--a comfortable bed, a fire on his hearth when he wanted it, and the same plain food that the family ate.

The girls of Hillcrest Farm had received no further answer to their advertis.e.m.e.nt, but the news that they were keeping boarders had gone broadcast over the ridge, of course. Silas Trent would have spread this bit of news, if n.o.body else.

But on Sat.u.r.day morning, soon after breakfast, Mr. Somers's old gray mare turned up their lane, and Lyddy put on a clean ap.r.o.n and rolled down her sleeves to go out and speak to the school teacher.

"That's a very good thing about that lane," 'Phemie remarked, aside. "It is just long enough so that, if we see anybody turn in, we can primp a little before they get to the house."

"Miss Bray," said the teacher, hopping out of his buggy and shaking hands, "you see me here, a veritable beggar."

"A beggar?" queried Lyddy, in surprise.

"Yes, I have come to beg a favor. And a very great one, too."

"Why--I----"

He laughed and went on to explain--yet his explanation at first puzzled her.

"Where do you suppose I slept last night, Miss Bray?" he asked.

"In your bed," she returned.

"Wrong!"

"Is it a joke--or a puzzle?"

"Why, I had to sleep in the barn. You see, thus far this term I have boarded with Sam Larribee. But yesterday his boy came down with the measles. He had been out of school for several days--had been visiting the other side of the ridge. They think he caught it there--at his cousin's.

"However," continued Mr. Somers, "that does not help me. When I came home from school and heard the doctor's report, I refused to enter the house.

We don't want an epidemic of measles at Pounder's School.

"So I slept in the barn with Old Molly, here. And now I must find another boarding place. They--er--tell me, Miss Bray, that you intend to take boarders?"

"Why--er--yes," admitted Lyddy, faintly.

"You have some already?"

"Mr. Colesworth and his son. They have just come."

"Couldn't you put me--and Molly--up for the rest of the term?" asked the school teacher, laughing.

"Why, I don't know but I could," said Lyddy, her business sense coming to her aid. "I--why, yes! I am quite sure about _you_; but about the horse, I do not know."

"You surely have a stall to spare?"

"Plenty; but no feed."

"Oh, I will bring my own grain; and I'll let her pasture in your orchard.

She doesn't work hard and doesn't need much forage except what she can glean at this time of year for herself."

"Well, then, perhaps it can be arranged," said Lyddy. "Will you come in and see what our accommodations are?"

And so that is how another boarder came to Hillcrest Farm. Mr. Somers chose one of the smaller rooms upstairs, and agreed to pay for his own entertainment and pasturage for his horse--six dollars and a half a week.

It was a little more than he had been paying at Larribee's, he said--but then, Mr. Somers wanted to come to Hillcrest.