“Who be ye?” demanded Peg. “Seems ’s ’o I’d seen ye somewhars; but I can’t think whar.”
“Don’t be hasty, my friend,” advised the other, pulling his hat over his laughing eyes. “You’ve forgotten me, and so, apparently, has everyone else. I saw Al Hewett at the station and he told me Miss Preston was unmarried and still at home, and that old Don Preston had gone to his reward a couple of years ago.”
“I c’n see you used t’ live ’round here,” hazarded Peg, shaking his head, “but I can’t seem t’ rec’lect who ye be; ’nless—— If I didn’t know he was dead I might think you was the young feller ’at used t’ teach school in th’ village. Whitcomb, his name was. But he’s been dead a matter o’ three years.”
“That being the case,” said the stranger coolly, “perhaps you’ll tell me about the auction up at the farm. I heard some women asking questions about it at the station.”
“Auction?” repeated Peg. “The’ ain’t no auction at our place—not yet. But you sure do remind me o’ that young school-teacher feller. He got gold crazy, an’ went off——”
“Yes, I know; and got lost on a trail and froze to death,” interrupted the stranger. “So I heard. Sad, wasn’t it? Did they find the body?”
“Not,” said Peg, his puzzled eyes still searching the stranger’s face, “as I heerd tell of.”
“Then you think the coast is clear up at the farm? Is Barbara—Miss Preston—at home?”
“Miss Barb’ry was to home when I come away at six-thirty this mornin’. Say, are you——?”
“I’ll walk over and call on her,” interrupted the young man, with some impatience. “Perhaps Barbara will remember an old friend. Her eyes used to be bright enough.”
Peg unhitched the harrow with fine deliberation.
“Hold on a minute,” he requested, “an’ I’ll step ’long with ye. It’s gittin’ ’long towards noon, anyhow.”
He was furtively studying the younger man’s face and figure, as he let down the bars and drove his horses through.
“B’en doin’ any school-teachin’ sence ye left these parts?” he drawled, as the two struck the road at a pace commensurate to the unhurried gait of the old horses.
“No,” said the stranger. He plunged his hands deep in his pockets, the merriment suddenly gone from his face and eyes.
“Ye look consid’ble older’n ye did,” observed Peg mildly, “an’ the whiskers gives ye a diff’rent look; but come t’ take notice, most anybody’d know ye, though ye must hev knocked ’round consid’able. Hev any luck minin’?”