“Has Jerry come back?” asked Jill, who kept all her questions for Frank, because she seldom alluded to the tender subject when with Jack.

“No, he’s off for the summer.  Got a place somewhere.  Hope he’ll stay there and let Bob alone.”

“Where is Bob now?  I don’t hear much about him lately,” said Jill, who was constantly on the lookout for “the other fellow,” since it was not Joe.

“Oh, he went to Captain Skinner’s the first of March, chores round, and goes to school up there.  Captain is strict, and won’t let Bob come to town, except Sundays; but he don’t mind it much, for he likes horses, has nice grub, and the Hill fellows are good chaps for him to be with.  So he’s all right, if he only behaves.”

“How far is it to Captain Skinner’s?” asked Jill suddenly, having listened, with her sharp eyes on Frank, as he tinkered away at his model, since he was forbidden all other indulgence in his beloved pastime.

“It’s four miles to Hill District, but the Captain lives this side of the school-house.  About three from here, I should say.”

“How long would it take a boy to walk up there?” went on the questioner, with a new idea in her head.

“Depends on how much of a walkist he is.”

“Suppose he was lame and it was sloshy, and he made a call and came back.  How long would that take?” asked Jill impatiently.

“Well, in that case, I should say two or three hours.  But it’s impossible to tell exactly, unless you know how lame the fellow was, and how long a call he made,” said Frank, who liked to be accurate.

“Jack couldn’t do it in less, could he?”

“He used to run up that hilly road for a breather, and think nothing of it.  It would be a long job for him now, poor little chap, for his leg often troubles him, though he hates to own it.”

Jill lay back and laughed, a happy little laugh, as if she was pleased about something, and Frank looked over his shoulder to ask questions in his turn.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Can’t tell.”

“Why do you want to know about Hill District?  Are you going there?”

“Wish I could!  I’d soon have it out of him.”

“Who?”

“Never mind.  Please push up my table.  I must write a letter, and I want you to post it for me to-night, and never say a word till I give you leave.”

“Oh, now you are going to have secrets and be mysterious, and get into a mess, are you?” and Frank looked down at her with a suspicious air, though he was intensely curious to know what she was about.

“Go away till I’m done.  You will have to see the outside, but you can’t know the inside till the answer comes;” and propping herself up, Jill wrote the following note, with some hesitation at the beginning and end, for she did not know the gentleman she was addressing, except by sight, and it was rather awkward:—­

“Robert Walker.