The proposition was received with enthusiasm, and before noon camp was made at the edge of the grove and Dick was cooking dinner over an open fire. They ate the last of the doughnuts at that meal and Chub was inconsolable until Harry promised to make some more as soon as she could secure the necessary ingredients and a kettle big enough in which to fry them. “Maybe we can get things at the store down there,” said Chub. “I’ll go and see presently.” CHAPTER XVII MRS. URIAH PEEL The Doctor, Roy, and Dick went up the stream in search of trout, Snip accompanying them, but Chub and Harry elected to stay behind and go shopping. And after the others had taken their departure with poles and tackle they set off for the store. The road ambled across the old wooden bridge, climbed a little hill between high thickets of sumac, and dipped again toward the settlement. From the slope, as they trudged along, they had a view of a wide expanse of farms and orchards with here and there a snug farm-house nestling under its grove of trees. The village, if it really deserved the name, consisted by actual count of seven dwelling-houses and the store. The road they were on continued along the river, while a second road turned from it at right angle in front of the store and wound inland. It was a sleepy little hamlet and the only persons in sight as they reached the corner were an old man half asleep on the tiny porch of a neighboring house and an elderly woman pottering about the garden of another. There was a watering-trough at the edge of the street and three big elms threw a grateful shade over the place. The store was a one-story affair and at some time in its history had been painted white. At the back a small ell with a side door was evidently the residence of the storekeeper. A brick path led to it between a bed of sweet-william and a row of tall lilac bushes, to which still clung the brown and withered flower spikes. The elms bathed the red brick sidewalk, broken and uneven, and the front of the store in cool green shadow. Above the narrow doorway, was an ancient sign which proclaimed that “Uriah Peel” dealt in “General Merchandise.” On each side of the door was a shallow bay-window fitted with shelves on which was displayed as heterogeneous a collection of articles as ever came together: pickles, cough syrup, carpet tacks, a jar of stick candy, flatirons, horse liniment, toys, a few paper-covered books, a box of files, women’s shoes, a manicure set in a purple plush case, straw hats, an assortment of ribbons, tin stew-pans and dippers, and a host of other things. [Illustration: She tied together the strings of a quaint little black bonnet] “We won’t find anything here that we want,” muttered Chub at the door.