"But when that telegram come from my son down there on the Border about Tom Hotchkiss"—Jason Day said "my son," oh, so proudly!—"I showed it to the judge an' he granted stay of per-ceedin's.
"'Course, we ain't heard nothin' more from Marty and Janice. But I reckon they air busy a-rescuin' of Broxton Day. When that's done we'll l'arn all about Tom Hotchkiss.
"Did you say my wife would be ready to go hum soon?"
"Yes. You see," said Hopewell cheerfully, "Grandma Scattergood is going to stay with us now."
Uncle Jason was no more startled by this announcement than he would have been had he looked into the sitting room behind the store just then and seen the birdlike little old woman sitting close beside the cradle which she was rocking with an industrious foot.
Mrs. Day was putting on her bonnet before the looking-glass and trying the strings in a neat bow-knot between two of her chins. In a cushioned chair, well wrapped from any possible draught, sat 'Rill, the roses gone from her cheeks but with a wonderful light in her eyes.
Mrs. Scattergood was leaning forward to scrutinize the baby in the cradle. His eyes were wide open and he was staring quite as earnestly at Mrs. Scattergood. Suddenly he screwed up his tiny face into what might have been a smile.
"For the Good Land o' Goshen!" gasped Mrs. Scattergood.
She turned suddenly and beckoned to little Lottie, who stood beside Mrs. Drugg's chair.
"Lottie, come here," she commanded.