Mr. Jordan passed one hand swiftly up and down the shaggy bark of the tree. Page [48.]
The next morning, when he came to think it all over, he decided that Mr. Jordan’s action in the grove was not nearly so remarkable as he had considered it in the dim light of the preceding evening. Doubtless the owner of those splendid trees had seen some hole in the bark of this oak, or had fancied it damaged in some way, and so had felt of the trunk to reassure himself. Anyone might have done the same thing, and for a dozen different reasons.
Yet why did the man glance around in that curious half-frightened way, as if fearful of being seen, if he was merely about to do an ordinary thing? It was the flash of that single look that had made Will uneasy; that rendered him uneasy every time he thought about it. But he could not explain why. If there was any one person in Bingham who was in no way mysterious that person was Mr. Jordan.
Sunday was a bright, delightful day, and soon after the late breakfast was over the Carden children, dressed in their best, started for the Sunday-school service, which was held before the regular church services began. Egbert and Will walked on either side of little Flo, and the three were as merry and wholesome a group of young folks as one could wish to see. Egbert was not a bit ill-natured or morose on account of his infirmities, but always wore a smile upon his cheerful face. And the village children liked him, as was easily seen by their pleasant nods when the three Cardens joined the group at the church door.
The Williams children were there, too, and while Gladys grabbed Flo’s hand and drew her aside with eager whispers, the others formed a circle around Will and Egbert and tried to make the former feel that they were as friendly as ever, in spite of their mother’s banishment of the “vegetable boy” the day before.
“Mother was a little bit nervous yesterday,” said Mary Louise, in her sweet and sympathetic way. “You mustn’t mind it, Will.”
“Of course I won’t,” he answered, promptly.
“Mother,” said the saucy Annabel, in a reflective tone of voice, “is a reg’lar caution when she gets nervous; and she’s nervous most of the time.”
“Mrs. Williams was quite right,” said Will; “and it was lucky she sent me home, for I’d an awful lot of work to do, and that kite made me forget all about it.”
The bell rang just then, calling them in; but Reginald whispered to Will: “You’re a brick!” and Theodore shyly took his friend’s hand and pressed it within his own as they entered the doorway.