n shut up ever since.

"What! you his grandchildren? Sho! Mis' Bray--I remember. She was the old
doctor's daughter by his secon' wife. Ya-as.

"Well, if I was you, I'd go to Pritchett's house to stop first. Can't
be that the old house is fit to live in, an' Pritchett is your nighest
neighbor."

"Thank you," Lyddy said, quietly. "And can you tell me whom we could get
to transport our goods--and ourselves--to the top of the ridge?"

"Huh? Why! I seen Pritchett's long-laiged boy in town jest now--Lucas
Pritchett. He ain't got away yet," responded the station agent.

"I ventur' to say you'll find him up Market Street a piece--at Birch's
store, or the post-office. This train brung in the mail.

"If he's goin' up light he oughter be willin' to help you out cheap. It's
a six-mile tug, you know; you wouldn't wanter walk it."

He pointed up the mountainside. Far, far toward the summit of the ridge,
nestling in a background of brown and green, was a splash of vivid white.

"That's Pritchett's," vouchsafed the station agent. "If Dr. Polly Phelps'
house had a coat of whitewash you could see it, too--jest to the right
and above Pritchett's. Highest house on the ridge, it is, and a mighty
purty site, to my notion."

CHAPTER V

LUCAS PRITCHETT

The Bray girls walked up the village street, which opened directly out
of the square. It might have been a quarter of a mile in length, the red
brick courthouse facing them at the far end, flanked by the two hotels.
When "court sat" Bridleburg was a livelier town than at present.

On either hand were alternately rows of one, or two-story "blocks" of
stores and offices, or roomy old homesteads set in the midst of their own
wide, terraced lawns.

There were a few pleasant-looking people on the walks and most of these
turned again to look curiously after the Bray girls. Strangers--save in
court week--were a novelty in Bridleburg, that was sure.

Market Street was wide and maple-shaded. Here and there before the stores
were "hitching racks"--long wooden bars with iron rings set every few
feet--to which a few horses, or teams, were hitched. Many of the vehicles
were buckboards, much appreciated in the hill country; but there were
farm wagons, as well. It was for one of these latter the Bray girls were
in search. The station agent had described Lucas Pritchett's rig.

"There it is," gasped the quick-eyed 'Phemie, "Oh, Lyd! _do_ look at those
ponies. They're as ragged-looking