CHAPTER SIXTEENThe Ladder
Next morning Clara went into the north bedroom, unfastened and opened the doors and windows, and then went out and looked at the rustic stairway and porch. She was examining a scarred and broken crosspost under the little platform when Eli came sauntering down the road. He climbed the hillside to join her.
“Good morning,” said Clara.
“Good morning.” Eli looked at the splintered rustic bough from which bark hung in shreds; he followed Clara’s glance from it to the window above and on the left.
“New break,” he said.
“Yes. It must have happened last night, Eli. We heard something, but Mr. Gamadge thought it was an animal of some kind.”
“It wasn’t done in the storm? Tree falling?” Eli had evidently dismissed the animal with the contempt it deserved. Clara was ra
