“You want to be nearby, do ye?”
“But not too near the railroad.”
Caleb’s slow mind started on its new quest.
“There ’s a place up from Bridgewater a ways—It ’s off the road. You might hear a toot clear nights, maybe—but much as ever—”
“Who owns it?”
Caleb shook his head. “Nice folks used to live there—the Griswolds—but I heerd somewhere ’t they’d sold—”
A quick look shot into the boy’s face. “You don’t mean the old Bardwell farm!”
“That ’s the place,” said Caleb—“I was thinking about that little house on the creek, about half a mile, cross lots, from the farmhouse. Anybody ’d be quiet enough there.”
“The Tomlinsons are there,” said John thoughtfully.
“There by the creek!” asked Caleb.