CHAPTER V.
THE ARRIVAL OF THE NABOBS.
"Well," said Uncle John, looking out of the car window, "we're nearly there." He didn't look the millionaire, or nabob, or anything else but a modest little man full of joy at getting into the country.

His clothing was not distinctive of wealth, his hands were hard and roughened by years of toil, and his necktie had a plebeian trick of sliding under his left ear.

Uncle John was just a plain, simple, good-hearted fellow before he acquired riches, and the possession of millions had in no way altered his nature.
The three nieces and himself were the only passengers in the coach, aside from rosy-cheeked Mary, Patricia's cook.

Finding that the road did not run a sleeper to Chazy Junction, Mr.Merrick had ordered one attached to the train for his especial use; but he did not allow even Patsy to suspect this extravagance.
"It seems to me," observed Beth, as she peered out while the train puffed up the steep grade, "as if we'd arrived at the heart of a wilderness, where farms are likely to be as scarce as Egyptian temples." "The truth is," replied her uncle, with a cheerful smile, "that none of us has an idea where we're going, or what that farm of mine looks like.
We're explorers, like Stanley in mid-Africa.

That's the beauty of this excursion." "I'm glad I didn't bring any party dresses," said dainty Louise, shaking her blonde head with a doubting expression toward the rock covered hills.
"Why, you might need them for hay-rides," remarked Patsy, with a laugh; "that is, if any hay grows in this land of quarries." The train stopped with a jerk, started with another jerk, and stopped again with a third that made them catch their breaths and hold fast to the seats.
"Chazy Junction, seh," said the colored porter, entering in haste to seize their bags.
They alighted on a small wooden platform and their hand baggage was deposited beside them.