"I don't like the idea of your making the journey alone," grumbled
Doctor Guerin; "but I don't see who there is to go with you. One
thing, Betty girl, brushing up against the Peabodys has given you a
practical fund of self-reliance. You're better fitted than Alice to
find your way about alone. Not that I would have chosen to have you
get your knocks just in the manner they've been handed to you, but
the results leave nothing to be desired. You're standing squarely on
your own feet, Betsey, and it's this summer's grilling training that
has done it."




CHAPTER VII

A BELATED LETTER


The hay was all baled by the next morning, and the balers, atop the
lumbering machine, caroled loudly if not musically as the fat horses
dragged them slowly up the lane. Neat bales of hay were piled high on
the barn floor, to be carted over to Hagar's Corners and loaded on a
freight car. That would be Ethan's job, and he grumbled at the
prospect of doing it without Bob's help.

Betty, coming in from the garden, stumbled over something in the
narrow entry. It was a man's coat--Mr. Peabody's, she recognized when
she picked it up and shook it slightly to free it from dust. A letter
fell from the pocket as she replaced it on the hook where it usually
hung, and, stopping to pick it up, she saw to her surprise that it