"Hello, Nick!" exclaimed Richard. "That you? Come in!"
Nicholas Boswell was pale, and his face showed a troubled expression.
For several seconds ho seemed hardly able to speak.
"No, thank'ee, Dick," he said at last. "I come to tell you that--" and
here his eyes roved over to Nancy and Grace, and he stopped short.
"What?" asked the boy. "You ain't sick, are you?" he continued, noticing
the unusual pallor on the other's countenance.
"Oh, no, _I_ ain't sick," replied Boswell. "I never get sick. I
was never sick in my life--'cepting when I was a babby. But I--that
is--there's a man--some men wants to see you," he faltered.
"To see me! Where?"
"They are down the road aways. I'll show you."
"What do they want?"
"Come on--never mind asking questions," closing one eye and bobbing
his head, as if he did not wish the girls to hear more.
"All right," returned Richard, and closing the door he followed Boswell
up the lane to the road.
"Accidents is bad things, Dick," began the young farmer, as they drew
away from the house. "But they will happen, you know--they will happen."
"What do you mean?" asked the boy quickly. "Who's had an accident?"
"Well, you see a man with the rheumatism ain't so sure of his footing
as is one who ain't got no such affliction.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25