With a suppressed oath, he dropped the lines and half-walked, half-ran, to where the little girl sat.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from there!” he exploded.
The girl stared at him, but made no move, though her lips quivered. Hubbard glanced back to observe the road. Then he caught her arm.
“Go home!” he shouted.
He spun her roughly. She continued to stare at him as she retreated homeward.
All that morning Hubbard worked his horses hard. He realized that he was eager to go back by the Eldridge dwelling. Promptly at twelve o’clock, therefore, he tied his team and started up the road. A flash of relief came to him when he did not observe the little girl. It left him cold, however.
“Eatin’ dinner,” he mumbled.
He moved off, without looking into the well. Until four o’clock that afternoon he labored. On his way home he discovered the girl again seated by the well. She was bending over and acting queerly.
Hurrying his horses to the roadside, he looped the lines over one of the posts in the old “snake” fence. As he approached, he saw her toss a piece of stone down the hole.
Hubbard waited until he was sure of his voice.