Thankfuls Inheritance | Page 8

She found her cousin
standing by the corner of the house.
"I've got it," cried Aunt Thankful, panting but triumphant. "I've got it.

One of the windows on the other side is unfastened, just as I
suspicioned it might be. I think one of us can get in if t'other helps."
She seized the arm of her fellow castaway and together they turned the
corner, struggled on for a short distance and then stopped.
"This is the window," gasped the widow. "Here, right abreast of us.
See!"
She held up the lantern. The window was "abreast" of them, but also it
was a trifle high.
"It ain't fastened," shouted Thankful; she was obliged to shout in order
to be heard. "I could push it open a little mite from the bottom, but I
couldn't reach to get it up all the way. You can if I steady you, I guess.
Here! Put your foot on that box. I lugged it around from the back yard
on purpose."
Standing on an empty and shaky cranberry crate and held there by the
strong arm of Mrs. Barnes, Emily managed to push up the lower half of
the window. The moment she let go of it, however, it fell with a
tremendous bang.
"One of the old-fashioned kind, you might know," declared Thankful.
"No weights nor nothin'. We'll have to prop it up with a stick. You wait
where you are and I'll go get one. There's what's left of a woodpile out
back here; that's where that crate came from."
She hastened away and was back in a moment with a stout stick. Emily
raised the window once more and placed the stick beneath it.
"There!" panted her companion. "We've got a gangway anyhow. Next
thing is to get aboard. You come down and give me a boost."
But Emily declined.
"Of course I shan't do any such thing," she declared, indignantly. "I can
climb through that window a great deal easier than you can, Auntie. I'm

ever so much younger. Just give me a push, that's all."
Her cousin demurred. "I hate to have you do it," she said. "For anybody
that ain't any too strong or well you've been through enough tonight.
Well, if you're so set on it. I presume likely you could make a better job
of climbin' than I could. It ain't my age that bothers me though, it's my
weight. All ready? Up you go! Humph! It's a mercy there ain't anybody
lookin' on. . . . There! all right, are you?"
Emily's head appeared framed by the window sash. "Yes," she panted.
"I--I think I'm all right. At least I'm through that window. Now what
shall I do?"
"Take this lantern and go to one of the doors and see if you can
unfasten it. Try the back door; that's the most liable to be only bolted
and hooked. The front one's probably locked with a key."
The lantern and its bearer disappeared. Mrs. Barnes plodded around to
the back door. As she reached it it opened.
"It was only hooked," said Emily. "Come in, Auntie. Come in quick!"
Thankful had not waited for the invitation; she was in already. She took
the lantern from her relative's hand. Then she shut the door behind her.
"Whew!" she exclaimed. "If it don't seem good to get under cover, real
cover! What sort of a place is this, anyhow, Emily?"
"I don't know. I--I've been too frightened to look. I--I feel like a--O,
Aunt Thankful, don't you feel like a burglar?"
"Me? A burglar? I feel like a wet dishcloth. I never was so soaked, with
my clothes on, in my life. Hello! I thought this was an empty house.
There's a stove and a chair, such as it is. Whoever lived here last didn't
take away all their furniture. Let's go into the front rooms."
The first room they entered was evidently the dining-room. It was quite
bare of furniture. The next, however, that which Emily had entered by

the window, contained another stove, a ramshackle what- not, and a
broken-down, ragged sofa.
"Oh!" gasped Miss Howes, pointing to the sofa, "see! see! This ISN'T
an empty house. Suppose--Oh, SUPPOSE there were people living here!
What would they say to us?"
For a moment Thankful was staggered. Then her common-sense came
to her rescue.
"Nonsense!" she said, firmly. "A house with folks livin' in it has
somethin' in the dinin'-room besides dust. Anyhow, it's easy enough to
settle that question. Where's that door lead to?"
She marched across the floor and threw open the door to which she had
pointed.
"Humph!" she sniffed. "Best front parlor. The whole shebang smells
shut up and musty enough, but there's somethin' about a best parlor
smell that would give it away any