While Harold ate his dinner he read Ruth’s letter, which went into the minutest details. It was a friendly, intimate letter, telling just where they expected to camp that night—which was in reality by the old mill, just opposite to the farm where, according to old Michael’s rumor, the weak-minded woman lived by herself.
After Harold had paid his bill, and sat smoking, he counted the money in his pocket. Besides his bills and usual currency, he had been careful to bring along two gold pieces, for he knew that gold, above all other kinds of money, would prove attractive to ignorant people.
Consulting his map, and comparing it with the details in Ruth’s letter, he saw he had only about seven miles to go. He was therefore in no hurry; there would be no action until the following morning. Indeed, he finally decided to spend the afternoon at Rikers and to get his supper there, and not start for the farm house until after seven o’clock. He would proceed leisurely until within five miles of the farm; then stop, pull down the curtains of the car, put up his mirror, and don his disguise. Then he would go on to the farm.
It was nearly nine o’clock when an old man, with shaggy grey hair and beard, and a dingy suit covered by an old dust-coat, arrived at the farm in his machine. He found the woman alone, just as Michael had said, but she did not appear feeble-minded. Though ignorant and uneducated, she seemed to possess all of her faculties. She was large and stout, and looked quite capable of taking care of a small farm with her own hands. And, as far as he could tell in the dark, the place seemed well kept.
Harold got out of his machine slowly, as he thought a man of his years should walk, and lifted his hat. The woman was seated on the porch, rocking and resting.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he drawled, in a disguised voice, “but hev you happened to see a bunch of gals about yere any place?”
The woman looked him all over before replying. Deciding that he was evidently from the country—one of her own kind—she answered:
“Yes, sir; they’s a bunch of them acrost the stream yonder, campin’ out in tents. They come before sundown this evenin’.”
“Sho! Hev any of them been over yere yet?”
“No. I ain’t seen them close.”