“I don’t see how we could,” declared the sheriff. “Anyhow, ’tis getting too dark to do any more to-night. You seem to have found some cobwebs, if you did not find a prisoner, my friend,” he said as Fairfax Johnson swung himself down to the table. “I suppose that we must wish you good-night, Mr. Owen. We may drop in to-morrow.”
“Nay, gentlemen, go not so,” spoke Mr. Owen. “Come, refresh yourselves, I pray you. You will take supper with us after so hard a search. It will not be long before ’tis ready, and ’tis o’er cold to go forth without something warming. Lass, canst thou not help Sukey to get it quickly?”
“Yes, father,” answered Peggy. She was quite herself by this time, but filled with amazement at Fairfax. What a queer compound he was, she thought, glancing over to where the youth stood. He was blushing as Sally helped him to remove the cobwebs from his clothing, and seemed unable to answer the chaff with which she and Robert were plying him. Yet but a short time since he had made that little joke concerning the fur rug and her housekeeping. Had he really seen Clifford?
“Let all of us young people help,” cried Betty gayly coming into the kitchen as Mr. Owen with the sheriff and his men left it.
“Thy help must be confined to the dining-room, Betty,” answered Peggy. “Thee must not be out here in that gown.”
“Then I will set the table,” said Betty. “My, my! what a party we’re having.”
“And we will help too, Peggy,” spoke Robert Dale. “Have you nothing that two great fellows like the captain and myself can do?”
“Plenty, plenty,” laughed Peggy. “Thee may slice the roast beef, Robert, while Friend Fairfax may take the ham. Sally and I will attend to the bread and cake. Sukey, will thee need more wood?”
“No’m,” grumbled Sukey. “I shouldn’t t’ink yer pa’d want ter feed dem folkes aftah de way dey done pried ’roun’ inter ebberyt’ing.”