“Harper was gone when I got over to the fence.”
“What kept you so long?”
“I walked over to the woods. There’s a nest of coons. They’re a-goin’ to play havoc with the corn.” He smiled unnaturally. “Look-a here! If we can catch ’em, I’ll give you the money their pelts bring.”
Hubbard divined that his acting was poor. Both the girl and his wife were frankly regarding him.
“Well!” he shouted. “What’s the matter with ye?”
“Oh, nuthin’, Pa, nuthin’,” whimpered the girl.
“Then go to bed, the two of ye.”
Next morning Hubbard started for the county seat, a ten mile drive. He returned that evening and complained that the case had been adjourned because Harper had failed to appear in court.
The following day he went back to his field far down the road for more ploughing. Twice he was called to the roadside by passersby to discuss the disappearance of Harper.
One morning a week later, when he came along the road with his team, he discovered the Harper child on the Eldridge premises. She was sitting at the edge of the well.