The Meadow-Brook Girls in the Hills | Page 6

noted that he had a low, receding forehead. His beard covered the greater part of his face.
"About what do you wish to speak with me?"
"Well, it's rather a delicate matter, Miss," the man made reply, gazing down at the carpet, twisting his soft felt hat awkwardly. "I--I wanted to ask if you needed any assistance."
"What do you mean?"
"You are going into the mountains?"
"Yes, sir."
"You will need to have some one to show you the way and look after you and your party."
"We already have engaged some one to do that. You mean a guide, I suppose?"
He nodded.
"May I ask your name?"
"John Collins."
"Do you live here?" she asked, curious to know more about the man, whom she began to distrust.
"Not now. I live over in the next village. I was in town and heard that you folks wanted a guide. I know more about the White Mountains than any other man in the State of New Hampshire. I can show you more, and take better care of your party, than anybody else you could find."
"Do you know Janus Grubb?"
"Ye--yes," Collins twisted uneasily, "I know him."
"He is to be our guide. The arrangements were made some time ago by the father of one of our young women. Mr. Grubb starts with us tomorrow morning, unless there should be some change in the arrangements."
"I'm sorry, Miss."
"I'm sorry, too, since you have been so kind as to offer your services," replied the guardian politely.
"I didn't just mean it that way, Miss. I meant about Janus."
"How so?"
"I don't just like to say. Yes, I will, too. Do you know anything about Jan Grubb?"
"No," admitted Miss Elting.
"Then you'd better ask. I am afraid you are putting too much confidence in him."
"Mr. Collins, please be more explicit. What do you mean?"
"You'll find out after you've got out into the hills. He doesn't know any more about the hills than a little yellow dog that's spent all its life in town. He'll get you into all kinds of trouble, and then he'll leave you to get out of it as best you can. You remember what I tell you."
"Of course, I thank you for telling me," answered the guardian rather stiffly. "However, we are quite satisfied with Mr. Grubb. As I understand it, he is a highly respected citizen of Compton and an efficient mountain guide. That will be quite sufficient for us."
"I need this job. I--I need the money, Miss," whined the stranger.
"I am satisfied with the arrangements I have already made." Miss Elting turned to leave the room.
"My family needs it. I've been out of work a long time, and----"
"I am very sorry. I wish it were in my power to assist you, but I have very little voice in the matter. Another person--the one who is paying the expenses of this trip--attended to all that. You will see that it is quite useless to plead, deep as my sympathy is for you."
The man rose and eyed her with an expression that was particularly unpleasant to behold. Miss Elting returned her strange visitor's gaze. Something other than his looks repelled her, yet there was nothing in either manner or words to account for this feeling of repulsion on the part of the guardian.
"In case anything should occur to make it necessary for us to look further for a guide I shall remember you," she said slowly. "I suppose I can reach you here at Compton?"
"N--n--no," was the hesitating answer. "But if you need me, I'll he about. Mark what I tell you, Jan Grubb is going to get you into a fine mess! You will be sorry you ever engaged him; that's all I've got to say about it. Good night, lady."
"Good night, Mr. Collins," replied the woman coldly. His final words, so full of rancor, had destroyed what little sympathy he had aroused in her. Miss Elting stood aside while the man stepped toward the door.
At this juncture Harriet Burrell appeared in the doorway leading to the hall. She had missed Miss Elting, and, not finding the guardian in her room, had come downstairs in search of her. Harriet had not known that the guardian was engaged.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Elting. I did not know--I thought you were alone."
"It is all right. Come in, Harriet. What did you wish?"
Harriet did not reply. Instead, she gazed perplexedly at the retreating form of Miss Elting's late caller.
"You'll be sorry you ever took up with that hound," flung back the fellow, turning as he was about to step out on the veranda.
Miss Elting made no reply. Her lips tightened a little, then she turned with a half-smile, regarding Harriet's frowning face quizzically.
"What does it mean, Miss Elting?" questioned the girl.
"I don't know, my dear. The man wanted to act as our guide. I am glad he