“I know Susan wouldn’t come, but she may know of some one else,” went on Patty.  “Here we are; stop at this house.”

“No, Miss Patty,” said Susan, when the case was laid before her, “I don’t rightly know of anny wan for the place.  I’d go mesilf,—­ for I’m a good, fair cook,—­but I can’t be afther makin’ them fiddly-faddly contraptions Miss Galbraith has.”

“Well, Susan, if we can find a cook, will you come as helper?  Just for a few days, till Miss Galbraith can get some people down from New York.”

“Yes, Miss Patty; I’ll do that.  Now, I’m bethinkin’ me, there’s the Cartwrights’ cook.  She’s a perfessional, and the family has gone away for three days, sure.  Cuddent she do ye?”

“Fine!” cried Patty.  “Where do the Cartwrights live?”

“Up the road a piece, an’ thin down beyant a couple o’ miles.  Don’t ye know the big grey stone house, wid towers?”

“Oh, yes; I know where you mean.  And is the cook there?  What’s her name?”

“Yes, she’s there.  An’ her name is O’Brien.  It’s Irish she is, but she knows more cookin’ than manny Frinch jumpin’-jacks!  If she’ll go wid yez, I’ll go.”

“Well, I’ll tell you, Susan.  You go on over to Miss Galbraith’s now.  Tell her I sent you, and that I’ll bring Mrs. O’Brien in about half an hour.  Then you go to the kitchen and get things started.”

“My, it’s the foine head ye have on ye, Miss Patty!  That’s a grand plan!”

Susan turned back to her sister’s house, and the motor-car darted forward.

“So far, so good,” said Patty.  “But now to get the O’Brien.  Suppose she won’t come?”

“Don’t borrow trouble, Apple Blossom.  Let’s suppose she will come, and meanwhile let’s enjoy our ride.  It was dear of you to ask me to come with you.”

“Well, you see, I didn’t know but it might require force to persuade a cook to go back with us, and,—­and you’re so big, you know.”

“Then I’m glad I’m so big, since brawn and strength win favour in my lady’s sight.”

“You are strong, aren’t you?” and Patty looked at the giant beside her.  “I think,” she went on slowly, “your strength must be as the strength of ten.”

“I hope so,” and Farnsworth’s voice took or a graver note, “and for the right reason.”

Just then they came in sight of the Cartwright place.

“Good gracious!” cried Patty, as they drove in.  “Here are four thousand dogs coming to meet us!”

Patty’s estimate of their number was extravagant, but there were five or six dogs, and they were large and full-lunged specimens of their kind.

“I’m frightened,” said Patty.  “They’re watchdogs, you know, turned loose because the people are away.  Don’t get out, Billee, they’ll bit you!  They’re bloodhounds, I’m sure!”

“Then I’ll play I’m Eliza crossing the ice, and you can sit here and be Little Eva.”

Patty had to laugh at his foolishness, but the dogs were fierce, and she was glad when at last his repeated rings at the doorbell were answered.