“Thank you,” said Desiré, kissing Mrs. Chaisson affectionately, and adding for the tenth time—“You’ve been so very good to us.”
“We shall never forget it,” said Jack, tightening the reins; and Dolly and Dapple, moving away from the gate, put an end to the farewells.
No one saw, hidden away among the maple saplings, scrub pine, and underbrush which covered the field beside the house, the bulky figure of a man. Neither did they hear softly muttered words of anger and revenge.
After they had left Yarmouth behind and were jogging along the road back over the same route they had covered on the train the day before, Desiré turned sidewise in the seat to inspect once more the interior of their “store.” At the back was their trunk, and next to it their box; and on either side, reaching to the very top of the wagon, shelves tightly packed with jars, cans, rolls of material. The small tent which they had bought on their way out of town was laid along the floor at one side.
“I must get acquainted with all the stock,” she observed; “so I’ll be able quickly to find what people want.”
“The first time we stop, you can look things over,” replied Jack. “You’d lose your balance and be rolling out if you tried to do it while we’re moving.”
The younger ones laughed hilariously. They were in high spirits now, and even Jack felt a thrill of excitement under his sober, staid manner.
Up and down the long hills they drove, past numberless lakes and ponds, in and out of woods sweet with the odor of sun-warmed pine, and across rivers whose red mud flats made a vivid splash of color on the landscape.
“So many, many little bodies of water,” murmured Desiré.
“The ground is so uneven,” explained Jack, “that the water settles and forms lakes.”