"Follow the path you are on," answered Ruth, "until you enter the main road; turn to your right about a quarter of a mile, then go up a lane that you will see on your left—the first that has an elm tree on each side of its entrance—and it will lead you straight up to the Van Deust homestead."
"I am very much obliged to you for your apparent courtesy and the seeming accuracy of the details of your information," responded the little gentleman, with grave deliberation, bending almost to the horse's mane as he spoke. Then straightening himself, and shaking the reins, he urged his steed into a gentle trot and soon disappeared in the gathering evening shades at a bend of the path.
"'Supposed to be brothers'—indeed!" exclaimed Ruth, when he was out of sight. "I'm sure their faces will afford him sufficient 'information and belief' on that score when he sees them."
III.
A GOLDEN RAIN.
The Van Deust brothers sat smoking their pipes in the twilight on the wide porch of the old homestead overlooking the sea.
"I met Thatcher to-day when I was over at the village," said the younger brother, Jacob, "and he wanted to put the ten acre lot in corn on shares."
"Well," responded Peter, "I suppose he might as well have it as anybody. Somebody will have to work it. We are getting too old, Jacob, for ploughing and such-like hard toil ourselves, and a third will be all we'll want. What did you tell him?"
"I didn't give him any definite answer. I wish somebody else would offer to take the lot. I don't like that Thatcher."
"Why?"
"He is a hard, severe-looking old fellow, and I'm sure he treats that pretty niece of his badly."