Meanwhile, Vinnie did what she could to aid and comfort Mrs. Peakslow; and Caroline and her little company came and looked on.
Mr. Wiggett also arrived, with Zeph, and helped get away the last of the logs.
Under the logs was the crushed shell of the linter; and all looked anxiously, to see what was under that.
A good many things were under it,—pots and kettles, wash-tubs, milk-pans (badly battered), churn and cheese-press, bed and trundle-bed,—but no Peakslow.
It was a disappointment, and yet a relief, not to find him there, after all. But where was he? Dud ran back to the field, to look for him; while the others rested from their labors.
"Did the wind do you much damage, Mr. Wiggett?" Lord inquired.
"Not so much as it mout," replied the old man. "It was mighty suddent. Banged if I knowed what in seven kingdoms was a-gwine to happen. It roared and bellered that orful, I didn't know but the etarnal smash-up had come."
"It must have passed pretty near your house,—I saw it swing that way," said Jack.
"Wal, I reckon you're right thar, young man. It jest took holt o' my cabin, an' slewed one corner on't around about five or six inches; an' done no more damage, in partic'lar, fur's I can diskiver; only, of course, it discomfusticated that ar' noon-mark. I left the ol' woman mournin' over that!"
Jack laughed, and promised to replace the noon-mark.