“Do I? I don’t know what I do know. There she is now! And her boat is coming to this landing! So I suppose that is where the Kleins live.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that, Molly. Yes, it’s just about the location, I suppose, that Jimmy said. You can see the peninsula from here, of course.”
The girls had reached the tree-sheltered shore just as Greta sent her boat flying toward them. “Wait,” said Molly, “I want to speak to her.”
“You want to tell her what happened?”
“Yes, some of it.”
The girls approached the rude dock. Greta smiled a real welcome, for to see the girls was worth a day’s hard work. She lifted the children out and told them to go on home; then Molly laid a hand on her arm. “We stopped to get a drink at a house up there. Is that where you live?”
“Yes. That is what is left of the Klein farm.”
“Well, we have just been there. We walked all the way back to the door, which was open, but no one answered our knock. I was terribly thirsty, so we went around the house and were just going to get a drink when we heard some one crying. I thought that somebody might be hurt, so I stepped back to see. It was a large, stoutly built woman, but she was not hurt, and I think you ought to know what she said. Could you meet us very early to-morrow morning? Jean said that you were out early sometimes.”
Greta was impressed with Molly’s manner. “Yes,” she answered. “Where shall I meet you? Shall I come all the way?”
“If you can, and I will have breakfast for you, too.”