Whoa, Dan!"

That was the best thing the nag did. He knew how to whoa.

"Thomas!" called Uncle John, turning in his seat; and at the summons Old
Hucks came from the barn and approached them. "How do you get to Miss
Thompson's place?"

"Miss Ethel's?" Another fleeting expression of surprise.

"Yes; we're going over to thank her for her kindness to us."

"I--I'm 'most sure as she'll be here soon to call, sir. And--perhaps you
oughtn't to--to go to--Thompson's," stammered Hucks, glancing up at them
with his bright, elusive smile.

"Well, we're going, anyhow," growled Mr. Merrick.

"Then turn left at the main road an' keep straight ahead to Thompson's.
Ye can't miss it, sir. Brick schoolhouse on the other corner."

"Thank you, Thomas. Drive on, Louise."

CHAPTER VIII.

THE LITTLE SCHOOL-MA'AM.

Dan balked only twice on the journey, but even this moderate rebellion
so annoyed Uncle John that he declared he would walk back rather than
ride behind this "mulish antiquity" again.

When they came to the Thompson dwelling it at first sight seemed
deserted. A knock on the front door failed to produce any response.

"Perhaps they're away from home," suggested Louise.

"There's a path around to the back," said Uncle John. "Let's explore in
that direction."

They made their way leisurely toward the rear and had almost passed the
house, when a deep roar broke the stillness. It was succeeded by
another, and another, like the bellowing of a mad bull, and the
intruders stopped short and Louise clung to her uncle in sudden panic.

"Be still, Will! Stop, I say--stop!"

A sharp crack, as of a lash, accompanied the words, and a moan or two
was followed by absolute silence.

Uncle John and Louise looked at one another with startled eyes.

"He must be worse," said the old gentleman, mopping his forehead with a
handkerchief.

With one accord they started softly to retrace their steps when a new
sound halted them again. It was a clear, fresh young voice singing a
plaintive ditty in a nonchalant, careless tone.

"That's Ethel, I'm sure," exclaimed Louise, grasping her uncle's arm.

"Well, what shall we do?" he demanded.

"Mr.--the crazy man seems quiet now," she whispered. "Let us find the
girl, if we can."

So again they traversed the path and this time came to the pretty garden
behind the house. Ethel was tending a flower bed. She wore her gingham
dress and a sunbonnet, and, kneeling in the path, stretched out