"I'll carry you over." And a moment later he was splashing through the shallow brook, holding the lithe, warm figure of his client high above the water. As he set her down upon the opposite bank she gave a pretty sigh of satisfaction, and naively told him that he was very strong for a man in the last stages of starvation.
Two or three noisy dogs gave them the first welcome, and Crosby sagely looked aloft for refuge. His companion quieted the dogs, however, and the advance on the squat farmhouse was made without resistance. The visitors were not long in acquainting the good-natured and astonished young farmer with the situation. Mrs. Higgins was called from her bed and in a jiffy was bustling about the kitchen, from which soon floated odors so tantalizing that the refugees could scarcely suppress the desire to rush forth and storm the good cook in her castle.
"It's mighty lucky you got here when you did, Mrs. Delancy," said
Higgins, peering from the window. "Looks 's if it might rain before
long. We ain't got much of a place here, but, if you'll put up with it,
I guess we can take keer of you over night."
"Oh, but we couldn't think of it," she protested. "After we have had something to eat we must hurry off to the station."
"What station?" asked Crosby sententiously.
"I don't know, but it wouldn't be a bit nice to spoil the adventure by stopping now."
"But we can't walk all over the State of Illinois," he cried.
"For shame! You are ready to give up the instant something to eat comes in sight. Mr. Higgins may be able to suggest something. What is the nearest——"
"I have it," interrupted Crosby. "The Wabash road runs through this neighborhood, doesn't it? Well, where is its nearest station?"
"Lonesomeville—about four miles south," said Higgins.