CHAPTER XIX
THE MYSTERY OF THE MILL
Henry Burns, slipping quietly away from the farmhouse on the hill, tramped joyously through the snowdrifts to the highway, "caught a ride" on a sledge going in to Benton and started homeward. He had not ridden far, however, when a double-seated sleigh appeared in sight, which seemed even at a distance to be familiar. It became more so when, at length, he made out clearly a white horse belonging to Tom Harris's father, and, occupying the two seats, his friends Tom and Bob, Jack Harvey and George Warren.
Perhaps they didn't give three cheers and a tiger when they espied Henry Burns! Jack Harvey and George Warren, struggling down the road through the storm of the afternoon before, had worried not a little about him, and would have gone back to his aid, if they could have done so. But the wind and snow had been too fierce; and they could only plod on, hoping that his usual luck and cleverness would not desert him, and that he would gain shelter in time.
They seized Henry Burns now and tumbled him into the sleigh, in rough and hearty fashion; and they turned about and drove back to Benton at the very best pace that the big horse could make through the snow. Henry Burns told the story of the night, as they proceeded.
"Say, that's like a story out of the library," remarked George Warren. "Just think of it! Little Bess a sister of the Ellison fellows. What did they say, Henry, when you told them?"
"Nothing," replied Henry Burns. "I didn't give 'em a chance. I got out quick."
"Well, I'm mighty glad for her," exclaimed Jack Harvey, heartily. "She's the pluckiest little thing I ever saw. I'm glad she's got a good home at last."
It was some time before Henry Burns spoke again. He seemed to be considering something soberly. Finally he said, "Yes, and they need the mill now, more than ever, with her to care for. I wonder if they'll ever get it."