At last the bays swung off upon the steep Hill Road, and slowed down to a fast, pulling walk.  Old William dropped the reins on the dash-board, made a telling shot with tobacco juice at a sunflower three yards off, and turned to have a chat.

“Glen,” he said, “I reckon, after all, there’s times when you c’n do without sofy pillows.”

“Why, William,” said Leighton, still pale with fright, “If I’d had a pillow, I’d have gone fast asleep.”  Then he smiled.  “Some of the old stock?”

William nodded.

“I don’t mind tellin’ you I ain’t drove like thet sence the day me’n you—­”

“Never mind since when, William,” broke in Leighton, sharply.  “How’s Mrs. Tuck?”

CHAPTER XLIV

“Is that the house?” asked Lewis, as they mounted the brow of the hill.

Leighton nodded.

Across a wide expanse of green that was hardly smooth enough to be called a lawn gleamed the stately homestead.  It was of deep-red brick, trimmed with white.  It stood amid a grove of giant sugar-maples.  The maples blended with the green shutters of the house, and made it seem part and parcel of the grove.  Upon its front no veranda had dared encroach, but at one side could be seen a vine-covered stoop that might have been called a veranda had it not been dwarfed to insignificance by the size of the house.  The front door, which alone in that country-side boasted two leaves, was wide open, and on the steps leading up to it, resplendent in fresh gingham, stood Mrs. Tuck.

With some difficulty William persuaded the bays to turn into the long-unused drive that swept up to the front door.  Leighton sprang out.

“Hallo, Mrs. Tuck!” he cried.  “How are you?”

“How do you do?  I’m very pleased to see you back, Mr. Leighton,” said Mrs. Tuck, who read the best ten-cent literature and could talk “real perlite” for five minutes at a stretch.  “Come right along in.  You’ll find all the rooms redded up—­I mean—­”

“Yes, yes,” laughed Leighton, “I know what you mean all right.  I haven’t even forgotten the smell of hot mince pies.  Lew, don’t you notice a sort of culinary incense——­’

“Land sakes! them pies is a-burnin’!” shrieked Mrs. Tuck as she turned and ran.

William offered to show the way to the bedrooms, but Leighton refused.

“No,” he said, “we’ll come around and help you put up the team.  No use washing up till we get our things.”

Silas, with the spring-wagon, duly appeared.  On top of the baggage, legs in air, was the discarded canopy of the carryall.  Beside Silas sat Nelton.  He was trembling all over.  In his lap he held Lewis’s hat.  His bulging eyes were fastened on it.

“There they be,” grunted Silas.  “Told you they was all right.  William be a keerful driver.”

Nelton raised his eyes slowly.  They lit, with wonder.

“Mr. Leighton,” he cried, “Master Lewis, are you safe?’