"If I were only bookkeeper enough to strike a job in one of the factories, I wouldn't care whether I lost the place here or not," said Ralph, when he was again at leisure. "This is a lazy sort of a job, and I would much prefer office work."
"That is true, my son, but one must be thankful to get work of any kind now," returned Mrs. Nelson.
"Oh, I know that, and I am not grumbling, mother, but the—what's that?"
Ralph broke off suddenly. A crash of glass, coming from the neighborhood of the cottage, sounded in their ears. The first crash was followed by half-a-dozen others in rapid succession.
"What in the world can that mean?" cried Mrs. Nelson, and, without waiting, she ran from the bridge.
Ralph looked up and down to see if any one was coming across, and, sighting none, followed.
On a run it did not take long to reach the little home by the side path. As they neared it, Ralph pointed excitedly to the sitting-room windows.
"Look, mother," he cried, in deep indignation. "Some vandal has broken nearly every pane of glass in the house!"
"Perhaps there are thieves around!" returned Mrs. Nelson, quickly.
"No, they wouldn't break glass needlessly. This was done out of pure meanness."