somebody, though."

Andy started in the direction of the barn. He had caught the sound of
some one chopping or hammering there.

He came upon a hired hand splitting some sawed hickory slabs to whittle
down into skewers.

"Mr. Dale's folks all away?" inquired Andy.

"Reckon they are, youngster," answered the man.

"Will they be gone long, do you think?"

"Mr. Dale won't. He drove the family over to Centreville. The circus is
there, you know."

"Yes," said Andy--longingly.

"Took them early, so they could look around town. They're going to stay
all night with some relations, Mr. Dale isn't, though. He ought to be
back by this time. He's due now. Was talking of carting a couple of
loads of hay over to Gregson's this morning."

Andy's heart sank at this. He did not tell the man about the fire.
Backing away gloomily, he went out into the road again.

Every point in the landscape suggested some section of his morning's
misfortunes. Andy craned his neck as he took in a distant view of the
old school-house.