“That’s the idee exackly,” agreed Mr. Thompson. “If you want to do anything, don’t waste your time thinking about the difficulties.”
“For example,” went on Miss Zillah, “you’ll never reach the main road before sundown.”
“We’ve thought of that,” said Mr. Thompson, “and what we propose is that we shall stay right here to-night.”
“Oh, I couldn’t sleep in that house,” whispered Carin. “Honestly, I couldn’t.”
“No call to,” said Mr. Thompson, flushing a little, however, in spite of himself, out of loyalty to his fellow mountain folk. “You-all will sleep out in the open. You can have the stars for your candles and the sun-ball for your alarm clock. O’Connor and I will scrape up pine leaves for your beds. You can put your raincoats around you, and maybe I can find an extra blanket to help you out. We’ll build a fire and you can sleep with your feet to it. Now, what’s the matter with that?”
“Nothing, nothing,” cried Azalea. “Oh, Mr. Thompson, how sweet of you to think of it.”
Haystack Thompson grinned mockingly at his young friend.
“Me, ‘sweet’?” he asked derisively. “Jest about as sweet as a green persimmon.”
CHAPTER X
THE RESCUE, CONTINUED
Breaking up a home is not an easy matter, even when the home has little in it; nor is it a happy thing—no, not even when the home has been a sad one. Moreover, it cannot be done in an hour, even under the easiest conditions.