CHAPTER XIX
The Stranger’s Errand
“I could not think of letting you guide me anywhere in this downpour,” said the stranger, who had drawn Pam away from the fine tree against which she was leaning, telling her that it was not safe to shelter under a tree, especially a beech tree, until the storm was over. “If you will tell me which way to go I dare say that I can manage, or, if it is very complicated, perhaps you will let me go with you to the nearest shelter. This rain is going to keep on for a few hours, which will be a good thing for the farmers, but it is not worth while to keep more of it off the ground than we can help.”
“If I am right as to where we are, Mrs. Buckle’s house is the nearest place where we can shelter; and if I am not to lean against a tree, we might as well be going forward, for I don’t feel as if I can breathe with all this water dropping on my face.” Pam was gasping and choking as she turned into the trail which she thought led to Mrs. Buckle’s house, and she felt as if it would be a physical impossibility to reach shelter of any sort unless she could get her breath more easily. She thought of the ruined house on the old tote road, but decided that she would rather be out in the rain than forced to shelter there. Then, too, it was no farther to the house of Mrs. Buckle in one direction than it would be to go back to that place of ill repute.
“Keep your head down, then you will be able to breathe easier!” called out the stranger from the rear, and Pam decided that he was a very understanding sort, and well versed in forest lore likewise, so her curiosity grew and grew as she plodded along through the pouring rain, as wet through as if she had been sitting in the creek.
A turn in the trail, and she saw the angle of the little brown house. She had made no mistake, but had brought the stranger straight as the crow flies to the house he was seeking. They emerged from the forest and were crossing the field, when the door was flung open, and to her surprise Pam saw Jack on the threshold, peering at her and her companion as if he failed to recognize her.
“Just a nice little shower, isn’t it?” she called out, trying to make her voice sound as cheerful as possible, although she was feeling pretty bad by this time.
“Pam, is it you? Why, you are nearly drowned! What has happened to bring you out in such a downpour?” demanded Jack, darting out to help her along those last few steps.
“I went out to find the cow,” she explained; then, reaching the door, paused on the threshold, for the house was clean, and she could not bear to enter in such a condition.