“God knows best,” was the sad reply.
A cat purred contentedly at the woman’s feet, and crickets sang upon the hearth. Outside, the wind sighed dolefully.
“Wonder what’s the matter with Rover?” said the old man, rising to his feet, after repeated efforts, and hobbling toward the door. “He’s acting strangely to-night.”
“Don’t open the door, father,” pleaded the wife. “The whole country is infested with tramps and robbers. We’d better be cautious. I’m sure I saw faces at the window a while ago.”
“Rover knows what he’s about, wife. He never speaks like that to an enemy. I will open the door.”
It seemed to the men outside that the door was long in opening. “My fingers are all thumbs!” they heard the old man exclaim, after a fruitless effort to withdraw the bolt.
“Good-evening!” exclaimed Joseph, in a husky voice. “We are a pair of belated travellers, and seek a night’s lodging. Can we be accommodated?”
“We’re not used to keeping travellers,” said the patriarch, “but it is late, and another storm is brewing. Come right in. Wife can fix you a shake-down somewhere, I reckon; and we always have a bite on hand to eat.”
“We have two sons of our own out in the world somewhere, father,” said the wife. “I will trust the Lord to do by them as we will do by these strangers.”
John Ranger threw back his heavy coat and hat and stood before the pair erect and motionless.