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Updated: June 20, 2025
Henry, however, was a disconsolate-looking object, but Hindenburg, riding in Hippy's saddle bag, was dry and cosy, sleeping soundly as the rain pattered on his sleeping quarters. Night found the party still some little distance from its destination, and Willy Horse was appealed to for encouragement. Emma wanted to camp where they were but the others outvoted her, so on they rode.
"What is it?" called Grace as she burst into the clearing. Miss Briggs pointed to Hippy's empty saddle, and it was not until then that Nora Wingate fully realized the meaning of the scene. "Hippy, my darlin', where are you?" she cried excitedly. "Steady now," cautioned Grace. "It will profit us not at all to lose our heads. Spread out and search the clearing.
As the party strolled out towards the mouth of the tunnel, Tom Gray told his companions that Hippy's resemblance to Townsend had been quickly seized upon by the Mystery Man, Jeremiah Long, and used as a cloak to cover the operations of the real Townsend, trusting to their skill and watchfulness to keep the moonshiners from collecting the reward that had been offered for Townsend.
"Squabbling as usual," groaned David, shaking Hippy's hand with an energy that belied the groan. "Just as usual," smirked Hippy. "Neither of us will ever outgrow it. You see we once lived in a town called Oakdale and associated daily with a number of very quarrelsome people.
We mustn't lose any of those things." "Will you call Hippy and Joe?" "Yes, yes. Hurry!" "Turn out!" shouted Tom at the opening of Hippy's tent. "Be lively. Blankets and weapons with you." "Wha at, in this storm?" wailed Hippy. "Better get wet than get killed," retorted Tom, springing over to Joe Shafto's tent. Joe answered his hail with a sharp demand to know what he wanted.
"Ha as he gone?" she wailed weakly. "Yes. That is Mrs. Shafto's tame bear, you silly." "Merely a voice of nature that you heard, Emma," reminded Hippy. "By the way, what message did Henry convey to you?" "Henry is the name of Mrs. Shafto's pet," explained Grace. "Fright!" moaned Emma in answer to Hippy's question. "Mrs.
A dozen other tests followed until the girls' occult knowledge reached the limit. Then they danced in the Gym to music furnished by Mrs. Vincent, who ended the prancing by sending in a huge "fate cake," a big basket of nuts, a jug of sweet cider and some of Aunt Hippy's cookies. Cutting the fate cake ended the Hallow E'en frolic.
"For your information, Miss Dean, I will say that the only time my Nora ever listens to her husband is when he talks in his sleep." A pained expression appeared on Hippy's face when he said it. "Go on wid ye," laughed Nora. "Ye know ye can't talk in your sleep because your snores don't give ye a chance." Grace put an end to the argument by announcing that breakfast was served.
He is a watch dog, the best ever, and " Hippy's remaining words were lost in the shout of laughter that interrupted him. "Oh, Hippy, you are a scream," exclaimed Grace. "You know very well that the only thing Hindenburg has watched since we started, is the food, and always he has watched for us to throw some of it to him. Yes, he is a wonderful watch dog."
"I don't want to come back. I'd rather walk around by myself in the garden." Nothing further was heard from Hippy for a time. Conversation on the veranda went on merrily. Apparently no one missed the stout young man. Suddenly a bland voice at Reddy's elbow said, "Why, good evening, Reddy." Hippy's fat face appeared between the lace curtains at the open parlor window.
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