The Girls of Hillcrest Farm: or, The Secret of the Rocks

Behind this shower came a wind-storm that threatened, for a couple of hours, to do much damage. Everybody was kept indoors, and as the night fell dark and threatening the Castles had to be put up until morning.

The wind quieted down at last; so did the nervous members of the party inside Hillcrest. When Lyddy and ’Phemie thought almost everybody else was abed but themselves, and they were about to lock up the house and retire, a candle appeared in the long corridor, and behind the candle was Harris Colesworth, fully dressed.

“Sunday is about over, girls,” he said, “and I can’t possibly sleep. I must do something. Didn’t you tell me, Miss ’Phemie, there were retorts and test-tubes, and the like, in your grandfather’s rooms?”

“In the east wing?” cried Lyddy.

“Yes.”

“Why, the back room was his laboratory. All the things are there,” said the younger girl.

“Let me go in there, then,” said Harris, eagerly. “I want to test these samples of water father and I brought down from the rocks to-day.”

“My mercy me!” gasped ’Phemie. “You don’t suppose there’s gold–or silver–held in solution in that water – ”

Lyddy laughed. “How ridiculous!” she said.

“Perhaps not exactly ridiculous,” returned Harris, shaking his head, and smiling.

“Why, Harris Colesworth! who ever heard of such a thing?” cried Lyddy. “I’m no chemist, but I know that would be impossible.”

“Will you let me have the key of the green door?” he demanded.

“Yes!” cried ’Phemie, who had continued to carry it tied around her neck. “But we’ll go with you and see you perform your nefarious rites, Mr. Magician!”

Lyddy went for a lamp and brought it, lighted. “A candle won’t do you much good in there,” she said to Harris.

“Verily, it is so!” admitted the young man, with an humble bow.

“Now, let me go first!” cried ’Phemie. “You’d both be scared stiff by my friend, Mr. Boneypart.”

“Your friend who?” cried Lyddy.

Harris began to laugh. “So you claim Napoleon as your friend; do you, Miss ’Phemie? What do you suppose old Spink thinks about him?”

’Phemie giggled as she ran ahead with the young man’s candle and closed the door of the skeleton case in the inner office.

“For the simple tests I have to make,” said Harris, as Lyddy’s lamp threw a mellow light into the room, “I see no reason why those old tubes won’t do. Yes! there’s about what I want on that bench.”

“But, oh! the dust!” sighed Lyddy, trying to find a clean place on which to set the lamp.

“Your grandfather must have been something of a chemist as well as a medical sharp,” observed Harris, gazing about. “I’m curious to look this place over.”

“We ought to ask Aunt Jane,” said Lyddy, doubtfully. “We really haven’t any business in here.”

“She’s never told us we shouldn’t come,” ’Phemie returned, quickly.

“Now you young ladies sit down and keep still,” commanded Harris, authoritatively, removing his coat and tying an apron around his waist–the apron being produced from his own pocket.

“Now if you had your straw cuffs you’d look just as you used to – ”

“At the shop, eh?” finished Harris, when Lyddy caught herself up quick in the middle of this audible comment.

“Ye-es.”

“So you did notice me a bit when you were working around the little kitchen of that flat?” chuckled the young man.

“Well!” gasped Lyddy. “I couldn’t very well help remembering how you looked the night of the fire when you came sliding across to our window on that plank. That was so ridiculous!”

“Just so,” responded Harris, calmly. “Now, please be still, young ladies and–watch the professor!”

And for an hour the girls did actually manage to keep as still as mice. Their friend certainly was absorbed in the work before him. He tested one sample of water after another, and finally went back and did the work all over upon one particular bottle that he had brought down from Spink’s hiding place among the rocks.

“Just as I thought,” he declared, with a satisfied smile. “And just as father suspected. Prepared to be surprised–pleasantly. Your Aunt Jane must be warned not to sell Hillcrest at any price–just yet.”

“Oh, why not?” cried ’Phemie.

“Because I believe there is a valuable mineral spring on it. This is a sample of it here. Mineral waters with such medicinal properties as this contains can be put on the market at an enormous profit for the owner of the spring.

“I won’t go into the scientific jargon of it now,” he concluded. “But the spring is here–up there among the rocks. Spink knows where it is. That is his secret. We must learn where the water flows from, and likewise, see to it that your Aunt Jane makes no sale of the place until the matter is well thrashed out and the value of the water privilege discovered.”

CHAPTER XXIX

AN AUTOMOBILE RACE

Lyddy was to write to Aunt Jane the next day. That was the decision when Harris started for town after breakfast, too. No time was to be lost in acquainting Aunt Jane with the fact that the old doctor spoke truly when he had said that “there were curative waters on Hillcrest.”

In Dr. Polly Phelps’s day a mineral spring would have been of small value compared to what it would be worth now. Jud Spink, of course, had known something about the old doctor’s using in his practise the water from somewhere among the rocks. On the lookout for every chance to make money in these days, the owner of “Stonehedge Bitters” and “Diamond Grits–the Breakfast of the Million” had determined to get hold of Hillcrest and put the mineral water on the market–if so be the spring was to be discovered.

Too penurious to take any risk, however, Spink had wished to be sure that the mineral spring was there, and of its value, before he risked his good money in the purchase of the property.

The question now was: Had he satisfied himself as to these facts? Had he found the mineral spring quite by chance, and was he not still in doubt as to the wisdom of buying Hillcrest?

It would seem, by his trying to get at the old doctor’s papers, that Spink wished to assure himself further before he went ahead with his scheme.

“We’ll put a spoke in his wheel–that’s sure,” said Harris, as he bade the two girls good-bye that Monday morning, while Lucas and the restive ponies waited for him.

In two hours he was back at the farmhouse. The ponies stopped at the door all of a lather, and both Harris and Lucas looked desperately excited. Tom Castle, as well as the Bray girls, ran out to see what was the matter.

“He’s off!” shouted Lucas Pritchett. “He’s goin’ to beat ye to it!”

“What are you talking about, Lucas?” demanded ’Phemie.

“Where does your aunt live, Miss Lyddy?” asked the young chemist. “Not at Easthampton?”

“No. At Hambleton. She is at home now – ”

“And that Spink just bought a ticket for Hambleton, and has taken the train for that particular burg,” declared Harris, with emphasis. “If I’d only been sure of your Aunt Jane’s address I would have gone with him.”

“Do you really think he’s gone to try to buy the farm of her?” questioned Lyddy.

“I most certainly do. He couldn’t have made connections easily had he started yesterday after you drove him away from Hillcrest. But he’s after the farm.”

“And she’ll sell it! she’ll sell it!” wailed ’Phemie.

“Perhaps not,” ventured Lyddy, but her lips were white.

“He can get an option. That’s enough,” urged Harris. “We’ve got to head him off.”

“How?” cried the older girl, clasping her hands.

“Jumping horse chestnuts!” ejaculated Tom Castle. “It’s a cinch! It’s easy. You can beat that fellow to Hambleton by way of Adams – ”

“But there’s no other train that connects at the junction till afternoon,” objected Lucas.

“Aw, poof!” exclaimed Tom. “Haven’t we got the old buzz-wagon right here? I’ll run and see father. He’ll let me take it. We’ll go over the hill and down to Adams, and take the east road to Hambleton. Why, say! that Spink man won’t beat us much.”

“It’s a great scheme, Tommy!” shouted Harris Colesworth “Go ahead. Tell your father I can run the car, if you can’t.”

In twenty minutes the big car was rolled out of the barn, and Mr. Castle came out to see the quartette off,–the two girls in the tonneau and Harris and Tom Castle on the front seat.

“You see that he doesn’t play hob with that machine, Mr. Colesworth,” called Mr. Castle, as they started. “It cost me seven thousand dollars.”

“What’s seven thousand dollars,” demanded Master Tom, recklessly, “to putting the Indian sign on that Professor Spink?”

They were not at all sure, however, that they were going to be able to do this. Professor Spink might easily beat them to Aunt Jane’s residence in Hambleton.

But at the speed Tom took the descent of the ridge on the other side, one might have thought that the professor was due to board a flying machine if he wished to travel faster. ’Phemie declared she lost her breath at the top of the hill and that it didn’t overtake her again until they stopped at the public garage in Adams to get a supply of gasoline.

The boys behind the wind-break, and the girls crouching in the tonneau, saw little of the landscape through which the car rushed.

They rolled into Hambleton without mishap, and before noon. A word from Lyddy put Master Tom on the right track of Aunt Jane’s house, for he had been in the town before.

“We’re here quicker than we could have had a telegram delivered,” declared Harris, as he helped the girls out of the car. “I’m going in with you, Miss Lyddy–if you don’t mind?”

“Why, of course you shall come!” returned Lyddy, really allowing her gratitude to “spill over” for the moment.

“Me–oh, my!” whispered ’Phemie, walking demurely behind them. “The end of the world has now came. Lyd is showing that poor young man some favor.”

But ’Phemie, as well as the other two, grew serious when the girl who opened the door told them Mrs. Hammond had company in the parlor.

“Two gentlemen, Miss–on business,” said the maid.

Just then they heard Professor Spink’s booming voice.

“Oh, oh! he’s here ahead of us!” cried ’Phemie, and she flung open the door and ran into the room.

CHAPTER XXX

THE HILLCREST COMPANY, LIMITED

“Don’t sign it!” shrieked ’Phemie, seeing Aunt Jane, her bonnet on as usual, with a pen in her hand.

“For the good land’s sake, child! how you scart me,” complained the old lady.

“Don’t sign anything, Aunt!” urged ’Phemie. “That man is trying to cheat you,” and she pointed a scornful finger at Professor Spink.

“What do you mean, girl?” demanded the other man present, who was sitting next to Mrs. Hammond. He looked like what he was–a shyster lawyer.

“This girl is crazy,” snarled Spink, glaring at the party of young people.

“So are we all, then,” Harris Colesworth responded. “I assure you, Mrs. Hammond, that these men are trying to trick you.”

“I dunno you, young man; but I do know my own mind. This man, Spink, has finally made me a good offer for Hillcrest Farm.”

“And if you don’t sign that paper at once, ma’am,” suggested the lawyer, softly, “the deal is off.”

“That’s right,” declared Spink, rising. “I’ve made my last offer–take it or leave it.”

“How much do they offer you for the farm, Mrs. Hammond–if that’s not a rude question?” demanded Harris.

“Never you mind!” blustered Spink.

But Aunt Jane stated the amount frankly.

“It’s worth more,” said Harris, sharply.

“I expect it is; but it ain’t worth no more to me,” replied the old lady, calmly.

“I’ll raise their offer a hundred dollars,” said Harris, quickly. “My name’s Colesworth. My father and I are well known here and in Easthampton. We are amply able to pay you cash for the place.”

“Well, now,” observed Aunt Jane, with satisfaction, while the girls stared at the young fellow in wonder, “you are talking business. A hundred dollars more is not to be sneezed at – ”

“We’ll raise the young man’s bid another hundred, Mrs. Hammond,” interposed the lawyer, eagerly. “But you must sign the agreement – ”

“Raise you another hundred,” said Harris.

The lawyer looked at his client for instructions. Professor Spink’s face was of an apoplectic hue and his eyes fairly snapped.

“No, no!” he shouted, pounding one fat fist into his other hand. “I know this smooth swindler. He did me once before just this way. He sha’n’t do it now. He’s got some inside information about that farm. It’s all off! I wouldn’t buy the old place now at any price!”

He grabbed his hat and rushed for the door. The little lawyer followed, seized his coattails, and tried to drag him back; but Professor Spink was the heavier, and he steamed out into the hall, towing the lawyer, opened the door, and finally dashed down the steps. He and his legal adviser disappeared from sight.

“Well, young man,” said Mrs. Hammond, calmly, “I expect you know what you have done? You’ve spoiled that sale for me; I may hold you to your offer.”

“If you want to, I shall not worry,” laughed Harris, sitting down. “But let us tell you all about it, Mrs. Hammond, and then I believe you will think twice before you sell Hillcrest at any price.”

Right in that boarding-house parlor was laid the foundation of the now very wealthy mineral water concern known as “The Hillcrest Company, Limited.” But, of course, it was months before the concern was launched and the wonderfully curative waters of Hillcrest Spring were put upon the market.

For once the fact was established that the mineral spring was there among the rocks at the back of the farm, it was only a matter of searching for it.

The spring was finally located in the very wildest part of the farm–in a deep thicket, where the cattle, or other animals, never went to drink. So the spring was thickly overgrown.

“And by cracky! you can’t blame a cow for not wanting to drink that stuff,” declared Lucas Pritchett when he first tasted the water.

Medicinally, however, it was a valuable discovery. Bottled and put on sale, it was soon being recommended by men high in the medical world.

“The old doctor knew a thing or two, even if he did live back here on the lonesomest hill in the State,” said Aunt Jane. “No! I won’t stay, children. You’ve treated me fust-rate; but give me the town. I want life. I don’t see how Mrs. Castle can stand it. I’d vegetate here in a week and take sech deep root that you couldn’t pull me out with a stump-puller.

“Besides, I’m going to have money enough now to live jest like I want to in town. And I’m going to have one of these automobile cars–yes, sir! I’ll begin to really and truly live, I will. You jest watch me.”

But in her joy of suddenly acquired wealth she did not forget her nieces–the girls who had really made her good fortune possible. Both Lyddy and ’Phemie owned stock in the mineral water company; and then Aunt Jane assured them that when she died they should own the farm jointly. She had only sold the spring rights to the company.

The rest of the corporation consisted of Harris Colesworth and his father, Rufus Castle, his mother, Grandma Castle, Lucas Pritchett and–last but not least–Mother Harrison. The widow had asked the privilege of investing in the stock of the company the fifty dollars that Professor Spink had paid her for her husband’s old desk.

And as that stock is becoming more and more valuable as time goes on, it was not an unwise investment on the widow’s part. As for Lucas, it was by ’Phemie’s advice that the young farmer put his money into the stock of the mineral water concern, instead of into a red-wheeled buggy.

“Wait a while, Lucas,” said ’Phemie, “and you’ll make money enough to own a motor car instead of a buggy.”

“And you’ll take the first ride in it with me?” demanded Lucas, shrewdly.

“Yes! I’ll verily risk my life in your buzz-wagon,” laughed the girl. “But now! that’s a long way ahead yet, Lucas.”

The summer had passed ere all these things were done and said. Nor had the Bray girls lost a single opportunity of making their original venture–that of keeping boarders at Hillcrest–a success.

Lyddy had bought her cooking stove, her chickens had turned out a nice little flock for the next year, the garden had done splendidly, and when the corn was harvested the girls banked a hundred dollars over and above the cost of raising the crop.

Best of all, their father’s state of health had so much improved, during these last few weeks, that the girls could look forward with confidence to his complete restoration, in time, to a really robust condition.

Hillcrest had been his salvation. The sun and air of the mountainside home had finally brought him well on the road to recovery; and the joy his two daughters felt because of this fact can scarcely be expressed in words.

Grandma Castle and the Chadwicks wanted to remain until New Year’s, so the girls got no real vacation. Several automobile parties had now found their way to the house on the hill, and the old-fashioned viands, the huge rooms, open fires, and all the “queer” furniture induced them to return from time to time.

So Lyddy and ’Phemie decided to be prepared for such parties, or for other people who wished to board for a week or so at a time, all winter.

Mr. Bray had grown so much stronger by now that sometimes he expressed his belief that he ought to go back to the shop and earn money, too.

“Wait till next season, Father,” Lydia urged him, softly. “We can all pull together here, and if we have only a measure of good fortune, we shall be independent indeed by next fall.”

The prospect was surely bright–as bright as that which lay before Lyddy and Harris Colesworth one Indian summer day as they strolled down the lane to the highroad.

“I don’t see how Aunt Jane can find this place lonely,” sighed Lyddy, leaning just a little on the young man’s arm, but with her gaze sweeping all the fair mountainside.

“You couldn’t leave it, Lyddy?” he asked, with sudden wistfulness.

“No, indeed! Not for long. No other place would seem like home to me after our experience here. It’s more like home than the house I was born in at Easthampton.

“You see, we have struggled, and worked, and accomplished something here–’Phemie and I. And Aunt Jane says it shall some day be ours–all of Hillcrest. I love it all.”

“Well–I don’t blame you!” exclaimed Harris, suddenly swinging about and seizing her hands. “But, say, Lyddy! don’t be stingy about it.”

“Stingy–about what?” she asked him, rather frightened, but looking up into his sparkling eyes.

“Don’t be stingy with Hillcrest. If you are determined to stay here–all your life long–you know – Don’t you suppose you could find it in your heart to let me come here and–and stay, too?”

Nobody heard Lyddy Bray make an audible reply to this–not even the curious squirrel chattering in the big beech over their heads. But Harris seemed to see just the reply he craved in the girl’s eyes, for he cried, suddenly:

“You dear, you!”

Then they walked on together, side by side, over the carpet of flame-colored leaves.