While they were thus occupied, the barn door was suddenly flung open, and a thin, peevish voice cried, "Cousin! Cousin Mary! where in time have you got to?"
The trio started and turned. In the doorway stood Mr. Simeon Sill, in carpet slippers and overcoat, the latter displaying a valance of flowered dressing-gown. A woollen shawl was tied over his head, and from it his eyes peered disconsolately.
"Where have you got to?" he repeated querulously. "Breakfast time, and the kittle bilin' over, and no table set, and Sam'l waitin'—"
At this moment he caught sight of the three conspirators, and stopped open-mouthed, his eyes goggling in his head.
"Oh! Cousin Sim, you'll get cold!" cried Mary Sands, hastily smoothing her hair. "Do go back to the house! I'm comin' right in."
"Mornin', Sim!" said Calvin Parks genially. "Come out to see the stock, have ye? I call that smart, now!"
"Mr. Simeon Sill, I believe!" said Mr. Cheeseman with dignity. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir!"
Mr. Sim looked from one to another, still gaping; and finally his gaze fixed itself sternly on Mary Sands.
"I don't know what's goin' on in my barn," he said, "nor I don't know what dum foolishness you folks is up to; but I give you to understand that my brother Sam'l is waitin' for his med'cine!"