Two hours later every one in the township—that is, every one except the boarders of the O'Neil House—knew that Mrs. Ray was actively advocating an investigation into the Lathbuns' history.
"I guess she'll find out a good deal," said Samuel Peterkin to Judy, as they drove home towards the St. Helena road.
The scene far and near was one maddest autumn blaze of beauty.
"Mrs. Ray will never let up on him till she does," said Judy; "she's awful mad at Sammy."
The road bent between giant pines, and revealed the gray facade of the High Banks beyond, stretching in gigantic grandeur between the black shadows below and the bewildering colors above.
"If these trees was down, what a long ways we could see along the river," said Samuel.
"Yes," said Judy, "trees is dreadfully in the way when you want to see. And to think that Mr. Ledge is always talking about having planted ten thousand of them. People are curious."
The sun came out upon the horizon behind them at that minute, and shot a shaft of glory down the cañon, illuminating all the gray rock with silver.
"There, now," said Judy; "it's late when it's like that. It's right in our eyes, too. We must hurry."
"I told you you were staying too long," said Samuel; "and you know as well as I do that nobody can trot the St. Helena hill."