but none of my rigs go off this place to-morrow, that's flat. And you haven't got that thieving nimble-fingers to plot and plan with you now. You'll have to manage by yourself."
"What are you going to do, Betty?" asked Mrs. Peabody anxiously, following the girl to the door after the meal was over. "You're not going to walk to Glenside to-night to try to get a team to come after you?"
"No, I'm only going over to Kepplers," replied Betty capably. "I'm sure one of the boys will drive me over. If not to Glenside, to Hagar's Corners, where I can get some kind of train for the Junction. All the through trains stop at Hagar's Corners, don't they? I came that way. Perhaps that station is better than Glenside, after all."
The walk across the fields tranquillized her, and she was able to enlist the aid of the Keppler's oldest boy without entering into too detailed an account of Mr. Peabody's shortcomings. Indeed, the Kepplers, father and sons, having been the nearest neighbors to Bramble Farm for eleven years, had a very fair idea of what went on there.
"Sure, I'll take you, and the trunk, too," promised Fred Keppler heartily. "Any time you say, Betty. There's a good train for Pineville, not too many stops, at twelve-three. How about that?"
