“How far is it?”
“A matter of twelve mile or so.”
“Do you think they will let me stay there—the people, the tenants—till I can get back here?”
“I wouldn’t advise ye to try it. Ye’d better come back to my place when ye git through at Muirhead’s. Debby, my wife’ll be glad to hev ye. I’ll send one o’ the boys arter ye. No, ye’d better not conclude to stay at Muirhead’s.”
“Very well. I can settle my business there in short order, I have no doubt. Thank you, Mr. Hunter.”
“I’m plain Dod—er—Uncle Dod ef ye like. I’m no mister.”
“Very well, then I will call you Uncle Dod.”
“I don’t say I hold to young gals travellin’ around through the country in a wild-goose fashion, but if ye go with me, I’ll guarantee I’ll return you safe.”
“It isn’t a wild-goose fashion. It’s for father and mother and the children,” returned Agnes, earnestly. “You see—you know father forgets and gets so bewildered, he couldn’t do it, and I can. I think it will be all right. I don’t see why it shouldn’t.”
Indeed, to walk up and claim her grandfather’s property seemed the easiest matter in the world to the girl in her simplicity. She knew her father held a copy of the deed; he carried it around with him in his clumsy leather pocket-book. She could easily get it, and with that in her possession the rest seemed plain sailing. There was no need to trouble any one to help her. All were busy with their own affairs. The M’Cleans had all they could do to get their own work done, and why ask them to stop to attend to hers? She had a thought of confiding in Archie and getting him to go with her, but she decided she would better not, since he was needed at home.