“Of course you do!” insisted Hattie, pulling up the window shade. “These are the girls who saved the little child at the Smith fire the other night.”
Rebecca sat up and peered at them. Suddenly a smile broke over her face.
“Yes, oh, yes!” she exclaimed. “I do remember. Mr. and Mrs. Smith are wicked people, traveling off and leaving their children alone, and the Lord sent a fire to punish them. But I put the fire out with my well water, and these girls saved the baby. Yes, yes, I remember.”
Hattie straightened her sister’s pillow and handed her the tray.
“Get me my well water,” commanded the woman, indicating the familiar pitcher which she always carried with her about the countryside.
“Can’t you tell us where you were when that fire started?” asked Mary Louise. “Didn’t you go to bed that night?”
The woman sipped her broth slowly.
“No, I didn’t,” she said finally. “I was sittin’ on the porch till Tom come home. About midnight, I guess you call it. And then it seemed as if I could see smoke over at Shady Nook. We’re high up here on the hill; we can look down on the wickedness of you people in the valley.”
Jane repressed a giggle. Without noticing it, Rebecca continued:
“So I picked up my pitcher and ran down the hill to Shady Nook to warn the people. I saw Smiths’ house burnin’ then, and I heard folks shoutin’. So I run along and tried all the doors at Shady Nook. All of ’em was locked. Then I looked in that tent and found you girls sleepin’ and give you the warnin’.”