“Yes, I heard about what happened to you, Trouble,” said Mr. Martin, pretending to bite off one of the baby’s ears as a sort of dessert after his meal. “But what is worrying you, Mother?” and he looked over at his wife.
“There is trouble at Cherry Farm.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“High water has spoiled the wheat, your father has lost money, and now he may lose the farm.”
Mr. Martin gave a long whistle.
“That is bad,” he said. “Who told you about it?”
“A letter came this afternoon. It was from Grandmother Martin. Here it is.”
Jan and Ted watched their father as he read what the postman had left. Then Mr. and Mrs. Martin talked together in low voices.
Jan and Ted did not know what it was all about, but they heard enough to tell them that it was real trouble. Something had happened to grandpa’s farm, he had lost much money, and unless he paid some men more money to get rid of some queer thing called a “mortgage,” he might have to move away from Cherry Farm.
And that, Jan and Ted knew, would be dreadful. Dreadful not only for them, for they would have no place to spend the long vacation, but bad also for grandpa and for Grandma Martin. For Cherry Farm was their home.