"I'm glad to see you, Stephen," was Parson John's hearty greeting as he held out his hand. "Dan and I are on our way to visit the Stickles, and called in to see you in passing. What a snug place you have built here. I trust you are getting along nicely."
"Better than I expected," was the reply. "But, say, Parson, you're just in time for dinner. Let me put Midnight in the barn. She won't object, at any rate."
"What! is it that late?" and the worthy man glanced at the sun. "Dear me, how the time does fly! Well, then, if we will not be in the way I shall enjoy it very much, for it has been many a day since I have dined in the woods. But, wait," he cried, as Stephen was leading Midnight to the stable, "There's a basket of stuff, some pies, and I don't know what else, in the sleigh for hardy woodsmen, with Nellie's compliments. No, no, not that basket. It's for the Stickles. The smaller one; I think you'll find it in the back of the sleigh. There, that's it, with the green handle. It takes a large basket for all the little Stickles!" and the parson gave a hearty laugh.
What a dinner they had in the little cabin that day. Never did meat taste so good, and never did pie have such a delicious flavour as that which Nellie had made. The table and stools were rough, the food served on coarse dishes, and each one helped himself. But what did it matter? Their appetites were keen and the parson a most entertaining visitor. He told about the race on the river the day before, and of Tim Fraser's accident and sudden death, to which the choppers listened with almost breathless interest, at times giving vent to ejaculations of surprise.
"I'm sorry we have no milk to offer you," laughed Stephen, passing the parson a cup of black tea. "But at any minute now a cow may be passing this way and we might be able to obtain some."
"A cow passing! I don't understand," and Mr. Westmore stirred the sugar in his tea.
"Yes. The Stickles are losing their only cow. Farrington has sent Pete after her, and he should be along by this time."
"Stephen," and Parson John's face changed from its genial expression to one of severity, "do I understand you aright? Do you mean to tell me that Farrington is taking the Stickles' only cow?"
"Yes, I'm not joking. It's the solid truth. Pete stopped here on his way out last night, and told us all about it."
"Dear me! dear me!" sighed the parson, placing his hand to his head. "When will that man cease to be a thorn in the flesh? The Stickles are as honest as the sun, and Farrington knows it. This business must be stopped. Dan will you please bring out Midnight. We must hurry away at once."