Evidence of Things Seen Read Online Free Page B

wing and across the field. Most of the Simms property lay on the other side of the highway, next to the Radford land; the farmhouse itself, a small, dingy affair, stood in its unkempt yard not more than a dozen feet from the roadway, backed by a paintless outbuilding or so and a square of vegetable garden. Mrs. Simms, a widow with married children, did not do much farming; she ran her place in a haphazard fashion, keeping it as a sort of rallying place for her clan. Sons, daughters and grandchildren were always staying with her in relays.
    The Simmses’ dog, a meek setter, escorted Clara to the back door, where fat Mrs. Simms stood waving.
    Clara explained that she wanted the services of Web Hawley, the sly-looking thin hired man who lived in the barn. He joined her and his employer as they conversed, and offered himself with some enthusiasm; he had already had experience of Clara’s tipping.
    Mrs. Simms agreed that he could very well let Mrs. Gamadge have part of his dinner hour.
    â€œMakin’ out all right, up there?” she asked.
    â€œOh, yes; I love it.”
    â€œToo bad your friends was kep’. Your help was tellin’ me.”
    â€œI have so much to do I shan’t miss them.”
    Mrs. Simms laughed for a long time over this naïve remark, and then said she hoped Mis’ Gamadge wasn’t on foot because there was anything wrong with her car.
    â€œOh, no; I like walking. I’m going to walk up the Ladder this afternoon to see Mr. and Mrs. Hunter.”
    â€œMy goodness, Hunters’ is a township away!”
    â€œNot if you go by the Ladder.”
    â€œThat’s a walk I wouldn’t take for a wager.”
    â€œLook out for copperheads,” put in Web Hawley. “It’s snake weather.”
    â€œDon’t scare me to death,” begged Clara.
    Mrs. Simms reminded Web that nobody had seen any copperheads around yet that summer.
    â€œNever knew a summer when one of ‘em didn’t show up somewheres,” insisted Web, who liked to alarm the women.
    â€œI’m real sorry,” continued Mrs. Simms, “that I can’t help you out with vegetables and milk; but I guess Alvira Radford has plenty to sell. She hasn’t got grandchildren to eat her out of provisions.”
    â€œOh, yes; Miss Radford lets me have all I need.”
    â€œSo your help told me. She’s a real nice woman. Walks down here of an evening.”
    â€œI understand Miss Radford lost her sister last summer,” said Clara. “She must be lonely, I should think.”
    â€œGuess so. Mis’ Hickson died a year ago this comin’ sixth of July, just around sunset, and Alvira had to come and git Web to drive over to Avebury for the doctor. Web had to leave the cows.”
    â€œChased all over Avebury for Doc Knapp,” said Web. “Found him at the fairgrounds, listenin’ to the band. Mis’ Hickson was dead, time we got back here.”
    â€œHandsome funeral,” said Mrs. Simms. “Web helped tote the coffin out.”
    â€œGood thing it wasn’t winter,” said Web. “That cottage is no place for anybody to die in bad weather.”
    â€œWhat did she die of?” asked Clara, with Gamadge and his procedure firmly in mind.
    Mrs. Simms looked up at a passing cloud. “Gastric stummick.”
    Web Hawley added: “Or somethin’,” and looked at the cloud too.
    â€œIs Dr. Knapp a good doctor?” asked Clara. “We might need one; you never know.”
    â€œHe might seem old-fashioned to you folks,” said Mrs. Simms.
    â€œI like that kind.”
    â€œWell, there’s one thing, he’s used to the trip. He takes care of us, and he took care of the Radfords for years. Took care of Eva Hickson for this complaint she had, whatever it was, till she died of it. Couple of weeks she was sick, and out he’d come. He’ll be comin’ out to doctor you, if you walk all day in this