This was the method she followed in all her research—careful, laborious and accurate at all costs, with a fine contempt for her less scientific contemporaries. The really high spots in her life had been when she was able to cover her competitors with confusion by showing that their facts were all wrong, which process she referred to as "showing up these idle gossips."
James Crocks, her husband, had chosen for himself a gentler avocation than his wife's, and one which brought him greater peace of mind—proprietor of the big red stable which spread itself over half a block, he had unconsciously defined himself, as well as his place of business, by having printed in huge white letters with black edging across the shingled roof, the words:
"HORSE REPOSITORY" PROP.J. CROCKS.
Here the tired horses could forget the long trail and the heavy loads, in the comfortable stalls, with their deep bedding of clean straw; and here also, James Crocks himself was able to find the cheerful company, who ate their meals in quietude of heart, asking no questions, imputing no motives, knowing nothing of human intrigue, and above all, never, never insisting that he tell them what he thought about anything! Most of his waking hours were spent here, where he found the gentle sounds of feeding horses, the honest smell of prairie hay and the blessed absence of human chatter very soothing and restful.
As time went on, and James Crocks grew more and more averse to human speech—having seen it cause so much trouble one way'n another, Mrs. Crocks found it was an economy of effort to board one of the stable boys, and that is how it came about that Mr. Bertie Peters found himself called from the hay-mow above the stable, to his proprietors' guest chamber, and all the comforts of a home, including nightly portions of raisin pie—and best of all, an interested and appreciative audience who liked to hear him talk. Mrs. Crocks as usual had made a good choice, for as Bertie talked all the time, he was sure to say something once in a while. A cynical teacher had once said of Bertie, that he never had an "unuttered thought."
But even though the livery stable happenings as related by Bertie gave Mrs. Crocks many avenues of information, all of her prescience could not be explained through that or any other human agency. The young doctor declared she had the gift or divination, was a mind reader, and could see in the dark! Many a time when he had gone quietly to the stable and taken out his team without as much as causing a dog to bark, removing his sleigh bells to further cover his movements, and stealing out of town like an absconding bank-teller, to make a call, returning the same way, still under cover of night, and flattering himself that he had fooled her this time, she would be waiting for him, and timed her call to the exact minute. Just as he got in to his room after putting his team away, his phone would ring and Mrs. Crocks would ask him about the patient he had been to see. She did not always call him, of course, but he felt she knew where he had been. There was no explanation—it was a gift!
Pearl had been rather a favorite with Mrs. Crocks when the Watsons family lived in Millford, but since they had gone to the farm and prosperity had come to them as evidenced by their better clothes, their enlarged house, their happier faces, and more particularly Pearl's success in her school work in the city, all of which had appeared in the local paper, for the editor was enthusiastic for his own town—Mrs. Crock's friendly attitude had suffered a change. She could put up with almost anything in her friends, but success!
But when she met Pearl on the street that day, her manner was friendly.
"Hello stranger," she said, "I hear you have been doing big things down there in the city, winnin' debates and makin' speeches. Good for you, Pearl—I always said you were a smart girl, even when your people were as poor as get-out. I could see it in you—but don't let it spoil you, Pearl—and don't ever forget you are just a country girl. But I am certainly glad you did so well—for your mother's sake—many a time I was dead sorry for her having to work so hard! It's a comfort to her now to see you doin' so well. Where have been now? I saw you comin' out of the doctor's office just now—anybody sick? You're not looking as pert as usual yourself—you haven't been powdering' your face, I hope! No one sick, eh? Just a friendly call then, was it? See here, Pearl—when I was young, girls did not do the chasin', we let the men do that, and I'm here to tell you it's the best way. And look here, there's enough girls after Doctor Clay without you—there was a man from the city telling Bertie at the stable that he seen our doctor in a box at the Opera with the Senator's daughter two weeks ago, and that she is fair dippy about him, and now that he is thinking of goin' into politics, it would be a great chance for him. The other side are determined to make him run for them against old Steadman, and the old lady is that mad she won't let his name be mentioned in the house. She says the country owes it to Mr. Steadman to put him in by acclamation! And the doctor hasn't accepted it yet. The committee went to see him yesterday and he turned them down but they won't take no for an answer, and they asked him to think it over—I suppose he told you all about it—"
For the first time Mrs. Crocks stopped for breath. Her beady eyes were glistening for excitement. Here was a scoop—if Pearl would only tell her. She would be able to anticipate the doctor's answer.