“No, but this ain’t the first time he’s paid me a visit. Last week he stole one of my best Rhode Island Reds. I’m plumb disgusted.”
Rhoda abruptly arose from the grass, gathering together her sketching materials. As if to put an end to the conversation, she remarked:
“It will soon be dark, girls. I think I should start home.”
“We’ll all be leaving in a few minutes,” Penny replied. “Let’s look around a bit more though, before we go.”
“You won’t see nothin’ worth lookin’ at around here,” the stonecutter said contemptuously. “This old house ain’t much any more. There’s good lumber in it though, and the foundation has some first class stone.”
“You speak as if you had designs on it,” Penny laughed. “It would be a shame to tear down a beautiful old house such as this.”
“What’s it good for?” the man shrugged. “There ain’t no one lived here in ten or twelve years. Not since the old lady went off.”
“Did you know Mrs. Marborough?”
“Oh, we said howdy to each other when we’d meet, but that was the size of it. The old lady didn’t like me none and I thought the same of her. She never wanted my chickens runnin’ over her yard. Ain’t it a pity she can’t see ’em now?”
With a throaty sound, half chuckle, half sneer, the man arose and walked with the girls around the house.