“Sorry—sorry. You two youngsters just forget what I said.”
The man talked in a rapid, jerky fashion which reminded Desiré of the way a robin runs along, a few steps very fast, stops up short, and then repeats the process.
“Now, I was going to say, where do you expect to house your team this winter?”
Jack and Desiré looked at each other in dismay.
“I never thought of that,” said the boy slowly.
“Well, I did. Got an empty barn at my place—no good to me—Ford is lost in it—plenty of room for your horses and wagon—”
“If you’ll let—”
“Now I know just what you’re—going to say—and I won’t. But if you’d—feel better about it—let this good sister of yours—make me some biscuits once in a while. Don’t get this kind very often.”
“I’d just love to,” replied Desiré warmly, while Jack tried to express his thanks, to which the old man refused to listen.
“Where are you going from here?” continued the judge.
“Right on to Halifax, then back again,” replied Jack.
“Now I was thinking—while we were eating—know how to make things out of birch bark—and out of pine cones?” turning to Desiré. “No? Then I’ll show you.”
Scrambling lightly to his feet, and followed by the young Wistmores, he darted across the road to a large birch tree; and drawing a knife from his pocket, showed them how to obtain strips of bark without injuring the tree. Returning to the camp, he ordered the two children to gather up a lot of cones. The rest of the afternoon was spent in learning to make boxes, baskets, and picture frames.
“There’re lots of tourists in Halifax—always looking for souvenirs—at railroad station, cab stands, and such. Wharf, too, is a good place to offer this stuff. No reason why you two girls shouldn’t do that—perfectly safe.”
“Now I’m going home,” he announced suddenly at about five o’clock. “Had a good time. See you often this winter. I’ll keep an eye on that boy who is going to fix up your cabin—ready when you come back this way—if you don’t come too soon.”
“Isn’t he funny?” commented Priscilla, as the Ford drove out of sight.
“But charming,” added Desiré.
“Oh, yes, I like him a lot.”
“Me, too, like him,” echoed René.
“Tomorrow,” said Desiré, “I want to gather lots of bark and cones, and while we’re on the road I can make up baskets and boxes. Then when we get near enough to Halifax, we’ll pick huckleberries to fill some of them, and wild flowers for the rest—”
“And we’ll sell ’em and make heaps of money,” finished the practical Priscilla.
“We’ll get bunches of cat tails, too,” continued Desiré.
“And later in the season, pretty berries,” said Priscilla.
“And wintergreen—”
“And nuts—”
“And soon you won’t need my poor efforts at all,” concluded Jack, with a half smile.
“Oh, don’t, please, Jack, even in fun,” begged Desiré.
“We’d need you even if you never earned a cent!” cried Priscilla, throwing her arms around Jack’s neck.
René, attempting to imitate her, due to the wagon’s passing over a rut, succeeded only in falling violently on his brother’s shoulder. The combined assault nearly forced Jack forward out of the seat.
“I’ll take your word for it, hereafter,” he gasped, when order was once more restored. “Don’t illustrate again, I beg of you!”
A week later the Wistmore family drove into Halifax.
“I shall have to spend most of the day buying supplies,” said Jack, as they passed the citadel. “I’ll put the wagon up somewhere, and you and the children can look about while I’m busy.”
“But—” protested Desiré, “the boxes of berries, and flowers—”
She had carried out the plan formulated at Wolfville, and had a number of really artistic boxes of choice fruit, partly covered with tiny ferns, and several odd baskets in which dainty wild flowers were set in moss.
“I hate to have you hanging around offering things for sale,” objected Jack.
“But we can’t afford to be proud that way, dear. It is a perfectly respectable thing to do, and I do so want to be a help—”
“As if you weren’t always,” ejaculated the boy.
“I should think the station might be the best place to start; so drive us over there like a good boy,” urged Desiré.
So Jack kept René with him, and, with many misgivings, left the girls standing near the steps which lead down from the station to the cab platform. The taxi drivers were too busy trying to outdo one another in securing fares to pay much attention to the girls; for a train had just come in. The first few travelers who hurried through the station to secure a taxi did not even see the little saleswomen. When another group appeared, Desiré stepped forward just as they were getting into a cab.
“Wouldn’t you like—” she began timidly.
A haughty-looking elderly woman, who seemed to be the leader of the party, brushed her aside with a curt “No!”
Scarlet with embarrassment, Desiré shrank back.
“Don’t mind her, Dissy,” said Priscilla, hugging her sister’s arm. “She’s ugly mean.”
“Hush!” was the only word Desiré could utter just then. It took all the courage she was able to muster to approach the next travelers, a fat man and two women.
“Would you care to buy a souvenir?” asked Desiré, her heart beating very fast.
“Bless my soul, no!” replied the man, not unkindly but very definitely. “Too much luggage now.”
Only the thoughts of helping Jack urged the girl to persevere. Trembling, dripping with perspiration, she stopped a couple of women who shook their heads before she could get a word out. Seeing the look of disappointment on her face, the younger of the two held out a coin, saying—“I don’t want your wares, but take this.”
Stung to the quick, but realizing that no injury was intended, Desiré refused and walked away, ready to cry.
“I’d have taken it if I’d been you,” commented Priscilla.
“Of course you wouldn’t, Prissy. We do not beg. But I guess nobody wants our souvenirs—and I thought them so pretty. We’d better try to find the Public Gardens, where Jack told us to meet him.”
“I think the station is a bad place, anyway,” said Priscilla. “The people are in too much of a hurry, and they did all have a lot of baggage. Maybe we can find somewhere else.”
By asking directions a number of times, they arrived at the Public Gardens—the big iron gates opening into acres of gay flower beds, rare and valuable trees, winding streams, artistic bridges. They were about to enter, when a man who, at a safe distance, had been watching them in the station, and who had followed them to the Gardens, now hurried forward.
CHAPTER XVII
AN OLD ENEMY
Pushing rudely between the two girls, the stranger succeeded, by means of a skillful bit of elbow play, in knocking the souvenirs out of their hands. As if to avoid stepping on the scattered