s.

CHAPTER VIII

"PLAYING S'POSE"

Calvin did think about it. He thought about it as he drove out of the
yard, and it was a grave salute that he waved to Mary Sands, smiling on
the door-step in her blue dress, with the low sun glinting on her
nut-brown hair.

He thought about it on the road; and hossy missed the usual fire of
cheery remarks, grew morose, and jogged on half asleep. He was still
thinking about it, when he came to a narrow lane that branched off from
the main road, some half a mile from the Sill farm. It was a pretty
lane, but it had a deserted look, and there were no wheel-marks on its
grass and clover. Coming abreast of this opening, Calvin checked the
brown horse with a word, and sat for some time looking thoughtfully
down the lane. It ended, a few hundred yards away, in an open gateway;
there was no gate. Beyond stood some huge old maple trees, which might
hide anything--or nothing.

"Want to go in, hossy?" asked Calvin. He flicked hossy on the ear, but
his tone was not the usual one of friendly banter. Hossy shook his head.

"Might as well!" said Calvin. "I've kep' away so fur, but it's there,
you know, hossy, all the same. Gitty up!"

Thus urged, the brown horse jogged slowly up the grassy lane, snatching
now and then at the tall grass as he went. Passing through the empty
gateway, they came to the maple trees, and saw--only one of them knew
before--what they hid. A yawning hole in the ground; at one side of it a
well, its covering dropping to pieces, its sweep fallen on the ground;
behind, a tangle of bushes that might once have been a garden. In front,
almost on the edge of the hole, some long blocks of granite lay piled
one atop of the other; these had been the door-steps, when there was a
door.

Calvin Parks sat silent for a long time looking at these things.
Then,--"Hossy," he said, "look at there!"

Hossy looked; saw little that appealed to him, and fell to cropping the
grass.

"What did I tell you?" said Calvin, addressing some person unseen. "Even
the dumb animal won't look at it. Hossy, what do you think of this
place, take it as a place? Speak up now!"

Hossy, flicked on the ear, shook himself fretfully, whinnied, and
returned to his cropping.

"Nice home to offer a woman?" said Calvin. "Cheerful sort of habitation?
Hey? Well, there! you see how 'tis yourself. A
rolling--stone--gathers--no--moss, little hossy."

As he spoke he was climbing down from his perch; now