“What are you keeping the leaf for?” cried Jack. He had to raise his voice to be heard through the rising gale.
“Oh, I couldn’t throw that away,” said Molly. “And besides, it may come in useful,” she added as she ran along beside Jack up the hill. “You never know.”
“Won’t old Timothy feel sold when he hears what his Black Leaf really was!” chuckled Jack.
The rain was coming down heavily as they reached the front door of the farm-house. They knocked, and rang at the bell—but no one answered, and there was no sound within the house. They knocked again, then went round and knocked at the back door. But still no one came, and they began to fear that there was nobody at home. This proved to be the case. The stables and outhouses were all locked up, although they could hear a horse inside one of the buildings, and there were some fowls in a hen-run in the yard. Evidently the people were only out for a short time, so Jack and Molly decided to take shelter in the porch by the front door for a while, until the storm was over, or Farmer Rose returned.
“Oh, dear, what a dreadful night it’s going to be!” said Molly. “Are you very wet, Jack?”
“Hardly a bit. It’s quite comfortable in this porch,” Jack replied, and then she heard him chuckling. “I was just thinking of old Mr Papingay,” he explained, and then he broke off with a sudden exclamation: “Oh, bother!”
“What is it?” Molly asked.
“I clean forgot to look for Mr Waffer’s face! Why didn’t you remind me?” said Jack.
“I forgot too,” answered Molly. “Never mind, we’ll look to-morrow if we search the Orange Wood.”
“We mustn’t let Mr Papingay see us, though. What fun! It’ll be like playing hide-and-seek,” said Jack. “Goodness, how the wind is howling!”