Joel, a tall boy in figure, like his father, came forward and eyed Harry with sharp curiosity.
“How are ye?” said Joel, extending a red hand, covered with warts.
“Pretty well, thank you,” said Harry, not much attracted to his new acquaintance.
“Here’s Sally, too!” said John Fox. “Sally, this is my ward, Harry Vane.”
Sally, who bore a striking family resemblance to her father and brother, giggled.
Mrs. Fox, to whom Harry was introduced at the supper table, was as peculiar in her appearance and as destitute of beauty as the rest of the family.
The next day, Harry, feeling it must be confessed, rather homesick, declined Joel’s company, and took an extended stroll about the town. He found that though the railway by which he had come was eight miles distant, there was another, passing within a mile of the village. He struck upon it, and before proceeding far made a startling discovery. There had been some heavy rains, which had washed out the road for a considerable distance, causing the track to give way.
“Good heavens!” thought Harry, “if a train comes over the road before this is mended, there’ll be a wreck and loss of life. What can I do?”
Just across the field stood a small house. In the yard the week’s washing was hung out. Among the articles was a red tablecloth.
“May I borrow that tablecloth?” asked Harry, in excitement, of a woman in the doorway.