“I am afraid we shall have to stay out in the rain if we don’t succeed in finding another barn,” laughed the guardian. “My girls are pretty well used to roughing it, though they never before passed quite such a night as this has been. Do you know of a farm house nearby where we may get lodgings? We are perfectly willing to sleep on the floor in the kitchen, provided we can have the room to dry out our clothes, and we shall be glad and willing to pay for the trouble.”
“You may come home with me,” answered the man, after a brief hesitation.
“What is your name, sir?” questioned Miss Elting.
“Squire Olney, Miss. You see I ain’t a squire by appointment. The neighbors jest call me that because I settle their difficulties. I’ve got more land in this township than all the rest of them put together. That’s why I ain’t takin’ the burnin’ of the barn to heart so much as you think I ought to,” he added, with a broad smile.
“Have you a family at home?” questioned Miss Elting.
“My wife and I are alone. Children all married.”
“How far is it from here to your home, sir?”
“About a mile right over the hill. What do you say?”
“We will go with you. We thank you for your kindness. I am very sorry, indeed, that you have lost your barn and your hay,” said the guardian in a sympathetic tone.
The squire leaned toward her.