school-house. About three from here, I should say.”
“How long would it take a boy to walk up there?” went on the
questioner, with a new idea in her head.
“Depends on how much of a walkist he is.”
“Suppose he was lame and it was sloshy, and he made a call and
came back. How long would that take?” asked Jill impatiently.
“Well, in that case, I should say two or three hours. But it’s
impossible to tell exactly, unless you know how lame the fellow
was, and how long a call he made,” said Frank, who liked to be
accurate.
“Jack couldn’t do it in less, could he?”
“He used to run up that hilly road for a breather, and think nothing
of it. It would be a long job for him now, poor little chap, for his
leg often troubles him, though he hates to own it.”
Jill lay back and laughed, a happy little laugh, as if she was
pleased about something, and Frank looked over his shoulder to
ask questions in his turn.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Can’t tell.”
“Why do you want to know about Hill District? Are you going
there?”
“Wish I could! I’d soon have it out of him.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. Please push up my table. I must write a letter, and I
want you to post it for me to-night, and never say a word till I give
you leave.
“Oh, now you are going to have secrets and be mysterious, and get
into a mess, are you?” and Frank looked down at her with a
suspicious air, though he was intensely curious to know what she
was about.
“Go away till I’m done. You will have to see the outside, but you
can’t know the inside till the answer comes”; and propping herself
up, Jill wrote the following note, with some hesitation at the
beginning and end, for she did not know the gentleman she was
addressing, except by sight, and it was rather awkward:
“Robert Walker
“Dear Sir, I want to ask if Jack Minot came to see you last Friday
afternoon. He got into trouble being seen with Jerry Shannon. He
paid him some money. Jack won’t tell, and Mr. Acton talked to
him about it before all the school. We feel bad, because we think
Jack did not do wrong. I don’t know as you have anything to do
with it, but I thought I’d ask. Please answer quick. Respectfully
yours,
Jane Pecq”
To make sure that her despatch was not tampered with, Jill put a
great splash of red sealing-wax on it, which gave it a very official
look, and much impressed Bob when he received it.
“There! Go and post it, and don’t let anyone see or know about it,”
she said, handing it over to Frank, who left his work with unusual
alacrity to do her errand. When his eye fell on the address, he
laughed, and said in a teasing way,
“Are you and Bob such good friends that you correspond? What
will Jack say?”
“Don’t know, and don’t care! Be good, now, and let’s have a little
secret as well as other folks. I’ll tell you all about it when he
answers,” said Jill in her most coaxing tone.
“Suppose he doesn’t?”
“Then I shall send you up to see him. I must know something, and
I want to do it myself, if I can.”
“Look here; what are you after? I do believe you think—-” Frank
got no farther, for Jill gave a little scream, and stopped him by
crying eagerly, “Don’t say it out loud! I really do believe it may be,
and I’m going to find out.”
“What made you think of him?” and Frank looked thoughtfully at
the letter, as if turning carefully over in his mind the idea that Jill’s
quick wits had jumped at.
“Come here and I’ll tell you.”
Holding him by one button, she whispered something in his ear
that made him exclaim, with a look at the rug,
“No! did he? I declare I shouldn’t wonder! It would be just like the
dear old blunder-head.”
“I never thought of it till you told me where Bob was, and then it