The liveryman ventured no reply, perhaps because he was guiding his
horses over the rickety bridge.

"Want to stop at the village?" he asked.

"No; drive on to the farm."

The scene was so rude and at the same time so picturesque that it
impressed them all very agreeably. Perhaps they were the more delighted
because they had expected nothing admirable in this all but forsaken
spot. They did not notice the people who stared after them as they
rattled through the village, or they would have seen Uncle John's
"agent" in front of his office, his round eyes fairly bulging from
his head.

It had never occurred to McNutt to be at the Junction to welcome his
patron. He had followed his instructions and set Mr. Merrick's house in
order, and there he considered that his duty ended. He would, of course,
call on the nabob, presently, and render an account of the money he
had received.

Sam Cotting, the store-keeper, gazed after the livery team with a sour
countenance, he resented the fact that five big-boxes of groceries had
been forwarded from the city to the Wegg farm. "What'n thunder's the use
havin' city folks here, ef they don't buy nothin'?" he asked the boys;
and they agreed it was no use at all.

Proceeding at a smart trot the horses came to the Pearson farm, where
they turned into the Jane at the left and straightway subsided to a slow