"My daughter's going to set up for herself next fall," she said
happily, "and that ingrain will be just the thing for her spare room."
When they reached the Faulkner farm, a rather commonplace group of
buildings set slightly in a hollow, they found teams and automobiles
of every description blocking the lane that led to the house.
Bob tied the white horse to an unoccupied post for the woman, and
she hastened away, worried lest the ingrain carpet be sold before she
could reach the crowd surrounding the auctioneer.
Betty, for whom all this was a brand-new experience, enjoyed the
excitement keenly. She followed Bob up to the front porch of the
house where the household effects were being put up for sale, Bob
explaining that the live stock would be sold later.
"Well, look who's here!" cried a hearty voice, as a man, moving
aside to give Betty room, allowed the person standing next to him to
see the girl's face. "Betty Gordon! And Bob, too! Not thinking of
going to farming, are you?"
Gray-haired, kindly-faced Doctor Guerin shook hands cordially, and
kept a friendly arm across Bob's thin shoulders.
"Friends of yours coming home next Tuesday," he said, smiling as one
who knows he brings pleasant news.
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