Finding a grove within view of the tiny lake, they spread out their picnic lunch. Afterwards, they stretched flat on their backs beneath the trees and relaxed.
“It’s getting late,” Penny finally remarked regretfully. “Time we’re starting home.”
“I want a drink of water first,” Louise declared. “Pass me the thermos, will you please?”
“It’s empty.” Penny uncorked the bottle and held it upside down. “But we can stop at a farmhouse. I see one just up the road.”
Returning to the car, they drove a few hundred yards down the highway, pulling up near a large two-story frame house which bore a sign in the front yard: “Tourist rooms.”
In response to their knock on the side door, a pleasant, tired-faced woman of mid-fifty came to admit them.
“I’m full up,” she said, assuming that they wished to rent a room. “My last suite was taken by the professor and his wife.”
Penny explained that all they wanted was a drink of water.
“Goodness, just help yourselves at the well!” the woman exclaimed. “Wait, I’ll fetch a clean glass.”
The deep well, which operated with a chain and a crank, was situated in a vine-covered summer house only a few yards away. The farm woman, who said her name was Mrs. Herman Leonard, showed them how to operate it. The water, coming from deep in the earth, was cool and sweet.