“But,” Rex exclaimed, “I should keep on my own premises. A man has a right to do what he pleases with his own,” a remark which so affected Phineas that he doubled up with laughter, as he said:
“That’s so; but, bless your soul, the Homestead farm ain’t big enough for a hunt. It takes acres and acres for that, and if you had ’em the foxes wouldn’t stop to ask if it’s your premises or somebody else’s. They ain’t likely to take to the open if they can help it, but with the dogs to their heels and widder Brady’s garden right before ’em they’d make a run for it. Her farm jines the Homestead, and ’twould be good as a circus to see the hounds tearin’ up her sage and her gooseberries and her violets. She’d be out with brooms and mops and pokers; and, besides that, the Leicester women would be up in arms and say ’twas cruel for a lot of men to hunt a poor fox to death just for fun. They are great on Bergh, Leicester women are, and they might arrest you.”
Reginald saw his fox-hunts fading into air, and was about to ask what there was in the woods which he could hunt without fear of the widow Brady or the Bergh ladies of the town, when Phineas sprang up, exclaiming:
“Hullo! there’s the Square now. I saw him in town this mornin’ about some plasterin’ I ort to have done six weeks ago.”
And he darted from the door, while Rex, looking from the window, saw an old horse drawing an old buggy in which sat an old man, evidently intent upon avoiding a street-car rapidly approaching him, while Phineas was making frantic efforts to stop him. But a car from an opposite direction and a carriage blocked his way, and by the time these had passed the old man and buggy were too far up the street for him to be heard or to overtake them.
“I’m awful sorry,” he said, as he returned to the hotel. “He was alone, and you could of rid with him as well as not and saved your fare.”
Rex thanked him for his kind intentions, but said he did not mind the fare in the least and preferred the electric car. Then, as he wished to look about the city a little, he bade good-bye to Phineas, who accompanied him to the door, and said: “Mabby you’d better mention my name to the Square as a surety that you’re all right. He hain’t traveled as much as I have, nor seen as many swells like you, and he might take you for a confidence man.”
Rex promised to make use of his new friend if he found it necessary, and walked away, while Phineas looked after him admiringly, thinking, “That’s a fine chap; not a bit stuck up. Glad I’ve met him, for now I shall visit Lucy Ann when she comes home. He’s a little off, though, on his farm and his fox-hunts.”
Meanwhile, Reginald walked through several streets, and at last found himself in the vicinity of the electric car, which he took for Leicester. It was a pleasant ride, and he enjoyed it immensely, especially after they were out in the country and began to climb the long hill. At his request he was put down at the cross-road and the gabled house pointed out to him. Very eagerly he looked about him as he went slowly up the avenue or lane bordered with cherry-trees on one side, and on the other commanding an unobstructed view of the country for miles around, with its valleys and thickly wooded hills.
“This is charming,” he said, as he turned his attention next to the house and its surroundings.