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Updated: June 19, 2025
"You didn't say how you got scared," remarked aunt Corinne, sitting straight in one of the yellow chairs to impress upon her mind the image of this heroine of the road. "Well, it was robbers," confessed the toll-woman, "breakin' into the house, that scared me." Robbers!
He could take a cushion, jump out and attack the man with that. It was not a deadly weapon, and would require considerable force back of it to do damage. The whip might be better. He reached for the whip and turned the handle uppermost. There was no cave at hand to trap this robber in, but a toll-woman should not show more spirit than Robert Day Padgett in the moment of peril.
"They've come huntin' them from away over in Illinois. I remember that year the milk-sick was so bad there was more horse-thieves than we've ever heard of since." "But they ain't true robbers, are they?" said aunt Corinne's nephew in some disgust, his scarlet bandits paling. "Not the kind that come tryin' the house when I got scared," admitted the toll-woman.
"I had the key in my pocket," said the toll-woman, "and ever since then I've never carried it anywhere else. I clapped, it into the padlock and turned, but just as I pulled the door I heard feet comin' around the house full drive. Instead of jumpin' into the cave I jumped behind it. I thought they had me, but I wasn't goin' to be crunched to death in a hole, like a mouse.
"That's the daughter of the biggest stock man around here," said the toll-woman, returning, and passing over aunt Corinne's question. "She goes to college, but it don't make a simpleton of her. She always has a smile and a pleasant word. Her folks are real good friends of mine. They knew our folks in Ohio." "And did he come right in and grab you?" urged Bobaday, keeping to the main narrative.
Aunt Corinne's nephew mentally saw a cavern in one of the neighboring hills, and men in scarlet cloaks and feathers lurking among the bushes. If there is any word sweeter to the young male ear than Indian or Tagger, it is robbers. "Are there many robbers around here?" he inquired, fixing intent eyes on the toll-woman. "There used to be plenty of horse-thieves, and is, yet," she replied.
I heard them stumble as they stepped down, and one began to blame the others for crowdin' after him when they ought to stopped at the mouth to ketch me if I slipped through his fingers. "I don't know to this hour how I did it," exclaimed the toll-woman, fanning herself, "nor when I thought of it.
This narrative was turned over and over by the children after they resumed their journey, and the toll-woman and her cave had faded out in distance. If they saw a deserted cabin among the hollows of the woods, it became the meeting place of robbers.
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