“Yes,” she said, crisply, “we're women. What of it? Who are you?”
The man with the lantern entered the room. He was big and broad-shouldered and bearded. His companion was short and stout and smooth-faced; also he appeared very much frightened. Both men wore oilskin coats and sou'westers.
“Who are you?” repeated Aunt Thankful.
The big man answered. His sunburned, good-humored face was wrinkled and puckered with amazement.
“Well,” he stammered, “I—we—Humph! well, we're neighbors and—but—but, I don't know as I know you, ma'am, do I?”
“I don't know why you should. I don't know you, fur's that goes. What are you doin' here? Did that depot-wagon man send you?”
“Depot-wagon man? No, ma'am; nobody sent us. Kenelm—er—Mr. Parker here, saw a light a spell ago and, bein' as this house is supposed to be empty, he—”
“Wait a minute!” Miss Howes interrupted. “Whose house is this?”
“Why—why, it ain't anybody's house, ma'am. That is, nobody lives here.”
“But somebody used to live here, it's likely. What was his name?”