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Updated: May 24, 2025
'How to cheat farmers; or, how to die game in a hayrick! I must suggest the text to Mrs. Pangborn, our honored principal," declared Edna, as she, too, made her way along under the uncertain weight of a bundle of hay. "But what are we dragging this stuff along for?" asked Dorothy. "Sure as fate, we will have to drop them when we get within the city, and why not anticipate?
Pangborn how I at one time even began to imagine the thief was a thing of green and yellow feathers, and a hooked bill, otherwise known as Pretty Polly." At that, the old lady seemed highly interested. "Oh! such a thought never occurred to me, Hugh!" she hastily exclaimed.
"I done tells de missus all 'bout hit, and she says as how it was on'y what she'd spect of dat young Mistah Morgan." "Thank you for telling me that, Sarah," Hugh went on to say; "it's pleasant to know some one thinks well of you. Is Mrs. Pangborn at leisure? I hope she isn't taking a nap just now?" "Deedy she ain't dat, suh; she's on'y readin' in de library.
They're nearly all deeply interested just now in helping Madame Pangborn do Red Cross work for her beloved poilus over in brave France. I suppose now you've traveled through that country in your time, Lu?" "Up and down and across it for hundreds of miles, afoot, and in trains," quickly replied the old fellow, "and say, there ain't any country under the sun that appeals more to me than France did.
The disclosures she makes are of the most startling character, but of her veracity and good character we have the most satisfactory evidence." This statement was confirmed by Mrs. Pangborn, a sister of the late Mrs Branard, the lady with whom Sarah J. Richardson stopped in St. Albans, and by whom she was employed as a seamstress.
"But, Hugh, you deserve all the credit," affirmed Thad. "In the first place, you took this heavy task on your shoulders, and started to find out who was guilty of robbing your good old friend, Madame Pangborn. It's been an uphill fight from the start, but here we've reached the finish in a blaze of glory.
"If any one needs help Sile Wright is always on hand," said Uncle Peabody. I was soon out of bed and he came no more to sit up with me. When I was well again Aunt Deel said one day "Peabody Baynes, I ain't heard no preachin' since Mr Pangborn died. I guess we better go down to Canton to meetin' some Sunday.
I almost dread the day, much as I yearn to tread my native soil again." "My chum was telling me that you had quite a collection of queer souvenir spoons," Thad remarked just then, thinking he had found just such an opening as he wished. Madame Pangborn shot Hugh a suggestive look, as if wondering how far he had confided in his chum.
Pangborn!" Just as mysteriously as he had appeared before, the man with the Chesterfieldian walk, and the big slouch hat, turned into the road. Where he had come from, nobody could imagine. "He has followed us!" breathed Nita. "Oh, dear me!" and she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.
For accustomed to reading the expression on Hugh's face, he seemed to realize that the other had some "card up his sleeve" which he meant to play. "Hadn't we better be going, Hugh?" he now asked. "Right away," came the reply, "for it's getting near six o'clock, and Mrs. Pangborn will be having her tea soon."
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