"That's right!" he said. "That's it, Calvin. You talk to Cousin, and tell her about the farm, and kinder throw in a word for Sim now and then. Why, he's a real good fellow, Sim is, when he ain't a darned fool. They'd get on fust-rate. And you talk to him, too, when she's out of the way! Tell him he needs a woman of his own, and like that. Mebbe you might drop a hint about my goin' away, if you see a good openin'; why, you're jest the one to make a match, with your pleasant ways, kind o' jokin' and cheerful. Make her feel as if she wanted a man of her own, too. Think about it, Cal! Say you'll think about it!" "I'll think about it!" said Calvin Parks. CHAPTER VIII "PLAYING S'POSE" Calvin did think about it. He thought about it as he drove out of the yard, and it was a grave salute that he waved to Mary Sands, smiling on the door-step in her blue dress, with the low sun glinting on her nut-brown hair. He thought about it on the road; and hossy missed the usual fire of cheery remarks, grew morose, and jogged on half asleep. He was still thinking about it, when he came to a narrow lane that branched off from the main road, some half a mile from the Sill farm. It was a pretty lane, but it had a deserted look, and there were no wheel-marks on its grass and clover. Coming abreast of this opening, Calvin checked the brown horse with a word, and sat for some time looking thoughtfully down the lane. It ended, a few hundred yards away, in an open gateway; there was no gate. Beyond stood some huge old maple trees, which might hide anything--or nothing. "Want to go in, hossy?" asked Calvin. He flicked hossy on the ear, but his tone was not the usual one of friendly banter. Hossy shook his head. "Might as well!" said Calvin. "I've kep' away so fur, but it's there, you know, hossy, all the same. Gitty up!" Thus urged, the brown horse jogged slowly up the grassy lane, snatching now and then at the tall grass as he went. Passing through the empty gateway, they came to the maple trees, and saw--only one of them knew before--what they hid. A yawning hole in the ground; at one side of it a well, its covering dropping to pieces, its sweep fallen on the ground; behind, a tangle of bushes that might once have been a garden. In front, almost on the edge of the hole, some long blocks of granite lay piled one atop of the other; these had been the door-steps, when there was a door. Calvin Parks sat silent for a long time looking at these things. Then,--"Hossy," he said, "look at there!" Hossy looked; saw little that appealed to him, and fell to cropping the grass. "What did I tell you?" said Calvin, addressing some person unseen. "Even the dumb animal won't look at it. Hossy, what do you think of this place, take it as a place? Speak up now!" Hossy, flicked on the ear, shook himself fretfully, whinnied, and returned to his cropping.