“You don't need to go at all,” she declared. “I'll get her and bring her here. Perhaps she ain't there, anyway.”
“Well, if she ain't there we can come back again. Come on, boys.”
He led the way to the door. The housekeeper would have accompanied them, but he prevented her doing so.
“Don't you trouble yourself, ma'am,” he said. “We'll find her. I'm older'n I used to be, but I ain't so blind but what I can locate a barn without a spyglass.”
“It won't be any trouble,” protested the lady.
“I know, but it might be. We'll go alone.”
When the three were in the back yard, and the discomfited housekeeper was watching them from the door, he added:
“I don't know why that woman rubs my fur the wrong way, but she does. Isaiah Chase says he don't like mosquitoes 'cause they get on his nerves. I never thought I wore my nerves on the back of my neck, which is where Isaiah gets skeeter-bit mostly, but anyhow, wherever they be, that Hobbs woman bothers 'em. There's the barn, ain't it? Don't look very heavenly, but it may seem that way after a spell in t'other place. Now where's the carriage room?”
The door of the carriage room was open, and they entered. A buggy and the muslin draped surrey were there, but no living creature was in sight. They listened, but heard nothing.
“Mary! Mary-'Gusta!” called Baxter. “Are you here?”