The Wishing Star Read Online Free PDF Page A

looked after the man. Soberly he said, “My friend, I think your information is correct.” He turned to Jenny, and as he paused a wail came from the vine-covered cottage in front of them.
    Jenny hugged herself and shivered, but before the men could move, the door burst open and Mrs. Harper rushed out. Screaming, she ran toward them and threw herself into Cartwright’s arms.
    Jenny gulped and watched, while Cartwright was patting and murmuring. He was also looking uncomfortably from her to the youth at his side.
    Stepping forward, Jenny thrust the bundle at Mrs. Harper. “Ma’am, Ma’s finished your flowered dress. Here ’tis.”
    The woman raised her head from Cartwright’s shoulder and stared at Jenny. “My husband is dead! You’re bringin’ me a flowered dress and my husband is dead!—they’re totin’ him in here, butchered like a hog . . .”
    ****
    â€œButchered like a hog.” Through the days and weeks that followed, the words stayed with Jenny, often goaded into her mind by the memory of that long, shrouded bundle being carried up the path. She still shivered over the horror she felt as Jake Evans nearly dropped his end when he first glimpsed Mrs. Harper and tried to snatch his cap off his head.
    Later more details came out, and the words Jenny heard continued to be passed around town. Peddler Harper, God rest his soul, had been found deep in the woods with his throat slashed from ear to ear.
    For weeks the tiny village of South Bainbridge, New York, vibrated with fear. Doors that had never had a lock were barricaded with the heaviest pieces of furniture in the house. Children were scurried indoors before sunset.
    Scarcely had the nerves begun to steady when the murderer was apprehended. Word was passed through the streets by clusters of neighbors who met to discuss the news. The question was, Why? Who could imagine a man like that Jason Treadwell murdering a poor old peddler? Even Jenny recalled his sad, pale face.
    In a town as small as South Bainbridge, there were only two places people could congregate to discuss the local news—the general store and the tavern. In each place the slant of the news differed.
    The tavern version came out at the Timmons’ table. Jenny sat between her mother and father, while her head turned from one to the other. Her father’s dark brooding eyes moved across Tom, then shifted to her. “Where’s a man to be safe? When a no-’count like Harper is done in, who’ll be next?”
    While he lifted his spoon and the others waited, Jenny looked around the group. Little Matty and Dorcas were too young to be touched by it all, but their eyes were round as they silently watched.
    Pa scowled, shoved his bowl back, and took up his conversation. “There’s things out there. Spirits. I’ve had enough experience in my life to know ya can’t mess around with ’em if’n you don’t know how to handle ’em. Harper for sure didn’t. He shouldn’t have been diggin’ in the first place, messin’ around in their territory.” From beneath the scowling shelf of his bushy eyebrows he watched Tom. Jenny saw her brother squirm uncomfortably. Pa had that expression on his face—the one he used when he whipped her for taking his green book.
    Jenny studied Tom; was it possible he had been reading the book?
    â€œThere’s nothin’ wrong with a little diggin’,” said Tom, interrupting Pa’s silent stare.
    â€œâ€™Tis a waste if’n you don’t have the power,” he said heavily. “You’re not even willing to study it out. I’m sayin’ you best leave it all alone. If you don’t you’ll get in a fix. Them spirits are stronger than you. Messin’ in their territory will getcha trouble, and nothin’ more.” His hooded eyes stared at Jenny, and she knew he was warning her, too.
    Jenny’s