Thankfuls Inheritance | Page 6

a variety of sounds,
screams, exclamations, and grunts as of someone gasping for breath.
"Be you hurt?" yelled the frantic Mr. Holt.
It was the voice of the younger passenger which first made coherent
reply.
"No," it panted. "No, I--I think I'm not hurt. But Aunt Thankful-- Oh,
Auntie, are you--"
Aunt Thankful herself interrupted. Her voice was vigorous enough, but
it sounded as if smothered beneath a heavy weight.
"No, no," she gasped. "I--I'm all right. I'm all right. Or I guess I shall be
when you get--off of me."
"Judas priest!" cried Winnie S., and sprang to the scene. It was the
younger woman, Emily, whom he rescued first. She, being on the upper
side of the tilted wagon, had slid pell-mell along the seat down upon
the body of her companion. Mrs. Barnes was beneath and getting her
out was a harder task. However, it was accomplished at last.
"Mercy on us!" exclaimed the lady, as her companions assisted her to
rise. "Mercy on us! I feel like a pancake. I never knew you weighed so

much, Emily Howes. Well, that's all right and no bones broke. Where
are we now? Why--why, that's a house, I do believe! We're in
somebody's yard."
They were, that was plain even on a night as dark as this. Behind them,
bordering the stretch of mud and puddles which they had just left, was
the silhouette of a dilapidated picket fence; and in front loomed the
shadowy shapes of buildings.
"We're in somebody's yard," repeated Thankful. "And there's a house,
as sure as I live! Well, I never thought I'd be so grateful just at the bare
sight of one. I'd begun to think I never would see a house again. If we'd
run afoul of a ship I shouldn't have been so surprised. Come on,
Emily!"
She seized her companion by the hand and led the way toward the
nearest and largest building. Winnie S., having retrieved and relighted
the overturned lantern, was inspecting the wreck of the depot-wagon. It
was some minutes before he noticed that his passengers had
disappeared. Then he set up a shout.
"Hi! Where you be?" he shouted.
"Here," was the answer. "Here, by the front door."
"Hey? Oh, all right. Stay where you be. I'll be there pretty soon."
The "pretty soon" was not very soon. Mrs. Barnes began to lose
patience.
"I ain't goin' to roost on this step till mornin'," she declared. "I'm goin'
inside. Ain't that a bell handle on your side of the door, Emily? Give it
a pull, for mercy sakes!"
"But, Auntie--"
"Give it a pull, I tell you! I don't know who lives here and I don't care.
If 'twas the President of the United States he'd have to turn out and let

us in this night. Here, let me do it!"
She gave the glass knob a sharp jerk. From within sounded the jingle of
an old-fashioned spring bell.
"There!" she exclaimed, "I guess they'll hear that. Anyway, I'll give 'em
one more for good measure."
She jerked the bell again. The peal died away in a series of lessening
tinkles, but there was no other sound from within.
"They must be sound sleepers," whispered Emily, after a moment.
"They must be dead," declared Thankful. "There's been smashin' and
crackin' and hollerin' enough to wake up anybody that wa'n't buried.
How that wind does blow! I--Hello! here comes that man at last. About
time, I should say!"
Winnie S. appeared, bearing the lantern.
"What you doin'?" he asked. "There ain't no use ringin' that bell.
Nobody'll hear it."
Thankful, who had just given the bell a third pull, took her hand from
the knob.
"Why not?" she demanded. "It makes noise enough. I should think a
graven image would hear it. What is this, a home for deaf people?"
Winnie S. grinned. "'Tain't nobody's home, not now," he said. "This
house is empty. Ain't nobody lived in it for 'most a year."
The two women looked at each other. Mrs. Barnes drew along breath.
"Well," she observed, "if this ain't the last straw. Such a cruise as we've
had; and finally be shipwrecked right in front of a house and find it's an
empty one! Don't talk to ME! Well," sharply, "what shall we do next?"
The driver shook his head.

"Dummed if I know!" he answered. "The old wagon can't go another
yard. I--I cal'late you folks'll have to stay here for a spell."
"Stay? Where'll we stay; out here in the middle of this howlin'
wilderness?"
"I guess so. Unless you want to walk the rest of the way, same's I'm
cal'latin' to. I'm goin' to unharness the horse and put him under the shed
here and then hoof it over to the village and get somebody