"tackle." His axe would furnish a couple of rods, and Katharine
should have her first lesson at angling in the near-by brook, where
trout were plentiful, it mattering little to this embryo constable what
the game laws were; and it would have amazed him to learn that had he
been in office he would have had to fine himself as the first, chief,
and habitual trespasser. Now all this pleasant prospect was altered, and
Moses "never liked to have his 'rangements upsot."

"Nor do I. Oh, dear! The more you talk the more I want to stay, and the
very more I mustn't. Good-by, I'm going. You can have the caraway cakes
and the red apple, and please, please take care my father's
'meetin'-basket.'"

But he laid a detaining hand upon her arm, and demanded:

"First tell me what you've got under your jacket!"

At her mention of the "meeting-basket" he had glanced across to the
chestnut-trees and had seen that precious receptacle carefully hung upon
a low branch out of harm's way. Yet here was the girl, hiding something
beneath her long blue coat, and acting as if she had great ado to keep
it there. It must have been a heavy, slippery something, because all the
while she talked she kept hitching it up and clenching it till her
knuckles turned white under the strain.

"I can't tell you, please," was the exasperating reply, as she wriggled
her arm free and set off at a swift pace.

Again Moses whistled, but now in disappointment rather than surprise. He
would have stoutly denied that he, a man, was possessed of curiosity
such as he attributed wholly to "silly women," yet it is certain that he
suddenly found the beautiful forest a disagreeable place, and reflected
that it was his duty to follow the young stranger.

"She's queer actin', at the best, an' sharp as a razor; but what caper
she's up to now beats me. Eunice ain't to home, an' Susanna never had
sense. If there's anything goin' on there'd ought to be a man 'round
with some sort of judgment in his head. Don't know what need there is
for more small wood bein' cut, anyway. We've got two woodsheds full of
kindlin' a'ready, besides the big ones of cord-wood for the reg'lar
fires. We could stand a siege an' not suffer, though Eunice never does
feel content 'less she's got fuel enough ahead to last two years. Hm-m.
It's gettin' too hot to chop, anyway. Must be Indian summer comin' on,
though I claim 'tain't due till November. Susanna, now, _she_ says
October, an' Eunice, _she_ calls