“Yes, sir.”
Senior Jimmy smiled at the “sir,” then happened to think. Yes, he was out of school, and he’d be in the office with his father till he earned enough money, in a year or so, to start to college. Say, he was grown up, after all.
“Greta,” asked Molly, soon after they started through the woods, “how old were you when you were ‘sick’?”
“It was four years ago, and Mother says that I am sixteen.”
“You don’t look any older than I do, and I’m fifteen. Well, yes, you do look older in one way, but then you’ve done so much hard work, I guess.”
The going was difficult. They scarcely stopped to examine the curious freaks of the storm in the woods. Afterward they learned that there was a comparatively small area damaged by the “twister,” though the storm was general. Jimmy said that he thought the twister must have stooped and risen again, in an erratic fashion, to fell some trees, take off the tops of others and cut almost a path before it in places.
It was some time before they came into sight of the Klein house. There it stood, as ramshackle as ever and with the additional loss of the roof over Greta’s attic. As they reached the road which ran between the woods and the place, Greta ran, the rest following as rapidly as they could.
The yard was strewn with rubbish and a few excited chickens ran about as Greta appeared; but she dashed into the house, calling to see where her mother and the children were. There was no response. Greta looked anxious, as she came from the rear of the house to say that no one was downstairs.
Jimmy insisted on accompanying Greta upstairs to see if they could be there, hurt, perhaps, when the roof went off. They found the attic pretty well demolished and the ceiling had fallen in the bedroom below; but there were no signs of any one having been there when it happened. “We’ll look to see if the horse and the old wagon are here,” said Greta, running down the stairs and outdoors. “Maybe they started away before the storm began. Mother was very anxious last night and seemed to think that—her husband—was in trouble.”
There lay the explanation of the absence. Neither horse nor wagon were to be found. The dogs were gone. The lone cow in the pasture was unhurt. “She probably wakened up early,” said Greta, “and just went to the village to see what had become of him. Thank you all for coming with me. I’ll just wait here and straighten up the best I can till they come. It was a good thing they went, unless they might have gotten caught in the storm.”