 19. THE CORTON OF SKIM CLARK By this time the summer was well advanced, and the rich people at the Weg Farm had ceased to be objects of wonder to the Millville folk. The girls were still regarded with curious looks when they wandered into the village on an errand, and Mr. Merrick and Major Doyle inspired a certain amount of all, but time had dulled the edge of marvellous invasion, and the city people were now accepted as a matter of course. Maggie McNutt was still bothering his head over schemes to fleece the strangers, in blissful ignorance of the fact that one of his neighbours was planning to get ahead of him. The widow Clark was a shrewd woman. She had proven this by becoming one of the merchants of Millville after her husband's death. The poor man had left an insurance of five hundred dollars, and the little frame-building wherein he had conducted a harness shop. Mrs. Clark couldn't make and repair harness, so she cleared the straps and scraps and wax ends out of the place, painted the interior of the shop bright yellow with a blue ceiling, erected some shelves and a counter, and turned part of the insurance money into candy, cigars, stationery, and a meager stock of paper-covered novels. Skimm, her small son, helped her as far as he was able, and between them they managed things so frugally that at the end of eight years the widow still had her five hundred dollars capital, and the little store had paid her living expenses. Skimm was named after his uncle, Peter Skimbley, who owned a farm near Watertown. The widow's hopeful was now a lank, pale-faced youth of eighteen, whose most imposing features were his big hands and a long nose that ended in a sharp point. The shop had ruined him from manual labour, for he sat hunched up by the stove in winter, and in summer hung around Cotting's store and listened to the gossip of the loungers. He was a boy of small conversational powers, but his mother declared that Skimm done a heap of thinking that nobody suspected. The widow was a good gossip herself and knew all the happenings in the little town. She had a habit of reading all her stock of paper-covered novels before she sold them, and her mind was stocked with the mass of romance and adventure that she had thus absorbed. What I love more neat nor sleeping, she often said, is a rattling good love story. They don't seem to be much love in real life, so a poor lone critter like me has to calmer anchorings by her reading novels. No one had been more interested in the advent of the millionaire at the Wegfarm than the widow Clark. She had helped fix up the house for the new owner, and her appreciative soul had been duly impressed by the display of wealth demonstrated by the fine furniture sent down from the city. She had watched the arrival of the party, and noticed with eager eyes the group of three pretty and stylishly dressed nieces who accompanied their rich uncle. Once or twice since the young lady had entered her establishment to purchase pens or stationery, and on such occasions the widow was quite overcome by their condescension. All this set her thinking to some purpose. One day she walked over to the farm and made her way quietly to the back door. By good fortune she found blind Nora hemming napkins and in the mood to converse. Nora was an especially neat seamstress, but required someone to thread her needles. Mary the cook had been doing this, but now Mrs. Clark sat down beside Nora to have a little talk, and keep the needles supplied with thread. She learned a good deal about the nieces, for old Nora could not praise them enough. They were always sweet and kind to her, and she loved to talk about them. They were all rich too, or would be, for their uncle had no children of his own, and could leave several millions to each one when he died. And they're so simple too, said the old woman, nothing acidified near stuck up about any on them. I can tell ye. They dresses as fine as the Queen of Sheba, Tom says, but they romped round just like they was born in the country. Miss Patsy, she's learning to milk the cow, and Miss Beth takes care of the chickens all by herself. They're regular girls, Marthay Clark, and money ain't spilled them a bit. This report tended to waken a great ambition in the widow's heart, or perhaps the ambition had already taken form, and this gossip confirmed and established it. Before she left the farm, she had a chance to secretly observe the girls, and they met with her full approval. At supper that evening she said to her hopeful, Skim, I want you to go courtin'. Skim looked up in amazement. Me, ma, he asked, yes you, it's time you was thinking of getting married. Skim held his knife in his mouth a moment while he thought over this startling proposition. Then he moved the cutlery, heaved a deep sigh, and inquired, who at, ma? What's that? Who will I go courtin' at? Skim, you remember in that last book we read, The Angel Maniac's Revenge? There was a saying, that fate knocks once on every man's door, while fate's knocking on your door. Skim listened, with a nervous glance toward the doorway. Then he shook his head, all full fancy, ma, he remarked. Don't you go and get no romantic notions out of books into your head. Skim, am I a fool or ain't I? Tame for me to say, ma. Fate's knocking, and if you don't open to it, Skim, I'll wash my hands of you, and you can just starve to death. The boy looked disturbed. What's aggravating of you, then? He inquired anxiously. A millionaire has come right under your nose. He's here in Millville, with three girls from Nieces, that's all got money to squander and is bound to have more. Skim gave a low whistle. You don't mean for me to be courtin' at them girls, do you? He demanded. Why not? Your family's just as respectable as any, except that your uncle Mail backslided after that last revival and went to a horse race. You're young and you're handsome, and there's three girls waitin' ready to be won by a bold wooer. Be bold, Skim. Take fate by the fedlock, and your fortunes made easy. Skim did not reply at once. He gulped down his tea and stared at the opposite wall in deep thought. It wasn't such a torrental bad notion, after all, and so thoroughly impressed was he with his own importance and merit, that it never occurred to him he would meet with any difficulties if he chose to undertake the conquest. Peggy says marriage is the mark of a fool, and Peggy married money too, he remarked slowly. Pa! Money! Mary Ann Cotton didn't have but a hundred and forty dollars all told, and she were an old maid and soured and squint-eyed when Peggy hitched up with her. I ain't seen nothin' of the world yet, continued Skim evasively, nor you won't neither, unless you marry money, any one of them girls could take you to Europe and back a dozen times. Skim reflected still farther. Cotton ought to have some decent clothes, he said, I can't sit in the Nabob's parlour with all that slick furniture, and Nick Thorn's cast off Sunday suit. The cloth's as good as ever was made, and I cut him down myself and stitched him all over. They don't look like store clothes, though, objected Skim. The widow sighed, Taint the coat that makes the man, Skim. It's the coat that makes decent cordon, though, he maintained stubbornly, girls like to see a fella dressed up. It shows he means business, amounts to something. I gave Nick Thorn two dollars and a package of tearbacker for them clothes, which the only thing wrong about was that they got too snug for comfort. Nick said so himself, but I'll make a bargain with you, Skim. If you'll agree to give me fifty dollars after you're married, I'll buy you some store clothes of Sam Cotton to do cordon in. Fifty dollars? Well, I've brung you up, ain't I? I've worked like a nigger mind in shop. Say forty dollars, I ain't small, and if you give one of them city girls Skim, forty dollars won't mean no more than a wink of an eye to you. Skim frowned. Then he smiled, and the smile disclosed a front tooth missing. I'll dream on it, he said. Let you know in the morning, ma. But I won't cordon minute, mind you, unless I get store clothes. CHAPTER XXI of Aunt Jane's nieces at Millville. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Aunt Jane's nieces at Millville by L. Frank Baum. CHAPTER XXI A LOST CAUSE The boys musings confirmed him in the idea that his mother's scheme was entirely practical. He didn't hanker much to marry, being young and fairly satisfied with his present lot, but opportunities like this did not often occur, and it seemed his bound and duty to take advantage of it. He got the store clothes next day, together with a scarlet necktie that was all made up in the latest style, as Sam Cotting assured him, and a pair of yellow kid gloves fit for a howling swell. Skim wasn't sure at first about the gloves, but capitulated when Sam declared that they were real acidified. In the evening he tugged up with his mother's help, and then walked over to the wedge farm. Beth answered the knock at the door. The living room was brightly lighted, Uncle John and the major were playing checkers in the corner, and Patsy was softly drumming on the piano. Louise had a book, and Beth had been engaged upon some fancy work. When the door opened, Skim bobbed his head and said, Even Mom, I've come a-visitin'. Beth conquered an inclination to smile. Won't you come in? she said sweetly. Thank ye, I will. I'm Skimbly Clark, you know. Downed Village. Ma keeps a store there. I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Clark. Allowing me to introduce to you my uncle and cousins, said the girl, her eyes dancing with amusement. Skim acknowledged the introductions with intense gravity, and then sat down upon a straight back chair near the piano, this being the end of the room where the three girls were grouped. Uncle John gave a chuckle, and resumed his game with the major, who whispered that he would give a dollar for an oil painting of Mr. Clark if it couldn't be had for less. Louise laid down her book and regarded the visitor wonderingly. Patsy scented fun, and drew a chair nearer the group. Beth resumed her embroidery with a demure smile that made Skim decide at once that he picked the pretty one. Indeed, the decision did justice to his discretion. Beth de Graf was a rarely beautiful girl, and quite outshone her cousins in this respect. Louise might be attractive, and Patsy fascinating, but Beth was the real beauty of the trio, and the most charming trait in her character was her unconsciousness that she excelled in good looks. So Skim stared hard at Beth, and answered the preliminary remarks addressed him by Patsy and Louise in a perfunctory manner. "'Won't you take off your gloves?' asked Louise, said Billy. "'It's so warm this evening, you know.' The boy looked at his hands. "'It's such a terrible job to get them on again,' he replied. "'Don't put them on, then,' advised Patsy. "'Here in the country we are allowed to dispense with much unnecessary social etiquette. "'Are ye? Then off they come. "'Ain't much stuck on gloves myself, but must you loud to the fellow going courton or to look like a sport?' The chorus of wild laughter which greeted this speech had the effect of making Skim stare at the girls indignantly. He couldn't find anything funny in his remark, but there they sat, facing him, and uttering hysterical peals of merriment until the tears ran down their cheeks. Silently, and with caution, he removed the yellow gloves from his hands, and so gave the foolish creatures a chance to laugh out their blamed giggle. But they were watching him, and saw that he was disconcerted. They had no mind to ruin the enjoyment in store for them by offending their guest, so they soon resumed a fitting gravity, and began to assist the youth to forget their rudeness. "'May I ask, said Patsy, very graciously, which one of us you intend to favour with your attentions?' "'Ain't much used to sedge things,' he replied, looking down at his big hands, and growing a little red-faced. "'Perhaps I had an order tell before the rest of you.' "'Oh yes, do tell,' pleaded Louise, was so anxious to know. "'I don't suppose it's right clever to pick and choose when you're all by,' said Skim, regaining confidence. "'But, Marshy, loud, that with three girls handy, I ought to give one on them, to say the least.' "'If you've got more than one,' remarked Beth calmly, it would be illegal.' "'Oh, one's enough,' said Skim, with a grin. "'Paggy says it's too many, and a fella oughtn't to take his girl out in a grab bag.' "'I should think not, indeed,' returned Patsy. "'But here are three of us openly displayed, and unless you turn us all down as unworthy, it will be necessary for you to make a choice.' "'What foolishness are you girls up to now?' demanded Uncle John, catching a stray word from the other corner while engaged in a desperate struggle with the major.' "'This is a time for you to keep quiet, Uncle,' retorted Patsy merrily. "'We've got important things to consider that are none of your affairs whatever.' Skim reflected that he didn't want this one, except as a last resort. She was too bossy. "'When I started out,' he said, "'I just came according, as any fellow might do. There wasn't much acquainted. But if I've got to settle down to one a ye?' He hesitated. "'Oh, you really must take one at a time, you know,' asserted Louise. "'It's the only proper way.' "'Then I'll start on the dark-eyed one that's a so-in,' he said slowly. Beth looked up from her work, and smiled. "'Go ahead, Mr. Clark,' she said, encouragingly, "'my name is Beth. Had you forgotten it?' "'Call me Skim,' he said gently. "'Very well, Skim. "'Now, look here, Patsy Doyle. If you're going to sit there and giggle, you'll spoil everything. Mr. Clark wants to court, and it's getting late.' "'Perhaps I've went far enough for tonight,' remarked Skim, uneasily. "'Next time they'll leave us alone, and then?' "'Oh, don't postpone it, please,' begged Beth, giving the boy a demure glance from her soft-brown eyes. "'And don't mind my cousins. I don't.' "'These things can't be hurried,' he said. "'Sy, Miracle courted three weeks before he popped. He told me so.' "'Then he was a very foolish man,' declared Patsy positively. "'Just look at Beth. She's dying to have you speak out. What's the use of waiting when she knows why you're here?' By this time Skim had been flattered to the extent of destroying any stray scents he might ever have possessed. His utter ignorance of girls and their ways may have been partly responsible for his idiocy, or his mother's conviction that all that was necessary was for him to declare himself in order to be accepted, had misled him and induced him to abandon any native diffidence he might have had. Anyway, the boy fell into the snare set by the mischievous young ladies without a suspicion of his impending fate. "'Miss Beth,' said he, "'if you're willing, I'll marry ye any time you say.' "'I agreed to help Dick Pearson with the harvesting, but I'll try to get Ned long to take my place, and it don't matter much know-how.' "'But I couldn't have you break an engagement,' cried Beth hastily. "'Why not?' "'Oh, it wouldn't be right at all. Mr. Pearson would never forgive me,' she asserted. "'Can't ye?' "'No, not before Harvest Skim, I couldn't think of it. "'But afterward?' "'No. I've resolved never to marry after Harvest. So as you're engaged, and I don't approve of breaking engagements, I must refuse your proposition entirely.' Skim looked surprised, then perplexed, then annoyed. "'Perhaps I didn't pop just right,' he murmured, growing red again. You popped beautifully,' declared Patsy, but Beth is very peculiar and set in her ways. I'm afraid she wouldn't make you a good wife anyhow. "'Then perhaps the girl in blue?' "'No,' said Louise, "'I have the same prejudices as my cousin. If you hadn't been engaged for the harvest, I might have listened to you. But that settles the matter definitely, as far as I am concerned.'" "'I'll be as mad as a hornet if I don't get any of ye,' he remarked sadly. She's paid Sam Cotton for this courtensuit, and he won't take back the gloves on no count after they've been wore, and that'll set my crazy. Miss Patsy, if you think ye could?' "'I'm sure I couldn't,' said Patsy promptly. "'I'm awfully sorry to break your heart, Skim, dear, and ruin your future life and make you misanthropic and cynical, and spoil your mother's investment and make her mad as a hornet. All this grieves me terribly, but I'll recover from it, if you'll only give me time. And I hope you'll find a wife that will be more congenial than I could ever be.'" Skim didn't understand all these words, but the general tenor of the speech was convincing and failed him with dismay. Which gals is tall, scarce in these parts, he said regretfully. Then they gave way again, and so lusty was the merriment that Uncle John and the Major abandoned their game, and came across the room to discover the source of all the amused. "'What's up, young women?' asked their uncle, glancing from their laughing faces to the lowering sullen one of the boy, who had only now begun to suspect that he was being poked fun at. "'Oh, uncle,' cried Patsy, "'you've no idea how near you have been to losing us. We have each had an offer of marriage within the last half-hour. Dear me!' ejaculated Uncle John. "'It shows the young man's intelligence and good taste,' said the Major, much amused. "'But is it a Mormon Yard, sir, to want all three?' Directing a keen glance at Skim. "'Now, taint,' he returned, wholly disgusted with the outcome of his suit. "'All three, God ask, as none of them's got sense enough to know good thing when they see it.' "'But I do,' said the Major stidely, "'and I maintain you're a good thing, and always will be. "'I hope, sir, you call round to see me in Baltimore next year. "'I'll not be there, but you can leave your card, just the same.' "'Please call again, sir,' added Uncle John, about October, just before snow flies. "'The boy got up. "'I don't care none,' he said defiantly. "'It's all Marsfall. Get me laughed at, and she won't hear the last of it in the hurry neither.' "'Be gentle with her, Skim,' suggested Beth softly. "'Remember, she has to face the world with you by her side.' Having no retort for this railery, which he felt, rather than understood, Skim seized his hat and fled. Then Patsy wiped the tears from her eyes and said, "'Wasn't it grand, girls? I hadn't had so much fun, since I was born.' End of CHAPTER XXI CHAPTER XXI The Trap is Set Uncle John was forced to acknowledge to his nieces that his boast to unmask Bob West within three days was mere blustering. If he accomplished anything in three weeks he would consider himself fortunate. But he had no wish to conceal anything from the girls, so he told them frankly of his interview with the hardware merchant, and also what Joe Weg had said about the stock in the locked cupboard. They were, of course, greatly interested in this new phase of the matter, and canvassed it long and eagerly. "'The man is lying, of course,' said Patsy, for Captain Weg, and poor Mr. Thompson, could not transfer their stock to West after that fatal night when he bought to them the news of the fire. "'I believe the stock is still in this cupboard,' declared Uncle John, unless West stole the keys and has taken it away,' suggested Louise. "'I'm sure he did not know about the secret drawer,' said her uncle. "'Probably he stole the keys and searched the cupboard. If he had found the stock, he would have left the keys, which would then be of no further use to him. As he did not find the stock certificates, he carried the keys away that he might search again at his leisure, and they've never yet been returned. "'By John, you're possessed of the true detective instinct,' the major remarked admiringly. "'Your reasoning is at once clever and unassailable.' "'I wonder,' mused Beth, if we could tempt Mr. West to come again to search the cupboard.' "'He will scarcely venture to do that while we are here,' replied Uncle John. "'I said, tempt him, Uncle.' "'And what did you mean by that expression, Beth?' "'I'll think it over and tell you later,' she returned quietly. Ethel Thompson would have shown Joe Weg how much she resented his leaving Millville without a word to her, had she not learned from Mr. Merrick the boy's sad condition. Knowing her old friend was ill, she determined to ignore the past and go to him at once, and Uncle John knew very well there would be explanations to smooth away all the former misunderstandings. Joe was now aware of the fact that his letter to Ethel had never reached its destination, so as soon as the girl had arrived, and the first rather formal greetings were over, he sent Kate Kable to McNutt's to ask the agent to come over to the hotel at once. The girl returned alone. "'Peggy says, as he can't come,' she announced. "'Why not?' asked Joe. "'Says he's just painted his off-foot blue and striped it with red, and it ain't dried yet.' "'Go back,' said Joe, firmly, tell Peggy he's in trouble, and it's likely to cost him more than a new coat of paint for his foot if he doesn't come here at once.' Kate went back, and in due time the stump of McNutt's foot was heard on the stairs. He entered the room, looking worried and suspicious, and the stern faces of Ethel and Joe did not reassure him by any means. But he tried to disarm the pending accusation with his usual brazen impertinence. "'Nice time to send for me, this is Joe,' he grumbled. "'It's good so a fellow can't even paint his foot in peace and quiet.' "'Peggy,' said Joe, when I went away three years ago, I gave you a letter from Miss Ethel. "'What did you do with it?' Peggy's bulging eyes stared at his blue foot, which he turned first one side and then the other, to examine the red stripes. "'Is this way, Joe?' he replied. "'There weren't no postage stamp on the letter,' and Sam Cotton said, "'it couldn't be posted no way, thou'dst stamp.' "'It wasn't to be sent through the post office,' said the boy. "'I gave you a quarter to deliver it in person to Miss Ethel.' "'Did ye, Joe?' "'Did ye?' "'Of course I did.' "'Curious,' said McNutt, leaning over, to touch the foot cautiously with one finger to see if the paint was dry. "'Well, sir?' "'Well, Joe, there's no use getting mad about it. "'That blame quarter you give me rolled down a crack in the stoop and got lost. "'Sure, got lost as easy as anything.' "'Well, what was that to me?' "'Oh, I ain't blaming you,' said Peggy. "'But to her a good deal to me, I can tell you, a whole quarter lost. "'Why didn't you take up a board and get it again?' "'Oh, I did,' said McNutt cheerfully. "'I did, Joe, but the money was all black and tarnished like by that time and didn't look at all like silver. "'Sam, he wouldn't take it at the store, so, my old woman, she'd load, she'd polish it up a bit. "'You know how sort of vigorous she is, Joe.' "'She polished that blame quarter the same way she jaws and sweeps. "'She polished it till she rubbed both sides smooth as glass. "'And then Sam wouldn't take it neither and said it wasn't money any more. "'So I drilled two holes in it and sewed it on my pants for a spender button. "'But why didn't you deliver the letter? "'Did you expect I'd tramp away to Thompson's crossing for nothing? "'I gave you a quarter. "'And it turned out to be only a spender button. "'Be reasonable, Joe.' "'Where is the letter? "'Tain to let no more. "'It's only old family papers by this time. "'Three years is? "'Where is it? "'By Thunder Peggy, if you don't answer me, "'I'll put you in jail for breach of trust.' "'You've changed, Joe.' "'Sadly, you ain't no more like.' "'Where is it? "'Behind the looking glass, in my sitting room. "'Go and get it immediately, sir. "'If I have to cross that dusty road twig more, "'I'll have to paint all over again, and that's a fact.' "'Ethel,' said Joe, with the calmness of despair, "'you'll have to telephone over to the junction "'and ask them to send a constable here at once. "'Never mind,' cried McNutt, jumping up hastily, "'I'll go. "'Paint don't cost much, know-how.' He stumped away, but on his return preferred to let Kate carry the soiled, torn envelope up to the young folks. The letter had palpably been tampered with. It had been opened, and doubtless read, and the flap clumsily glued down again. But Ethel had it now, and even after three years, her sweet eyes dimmed as she read the tender words that Joe had written because he lacked the courage to speak them. "'My one great ambition is to win a home for us, dear,' he had declared, and with this before her eyes Ethel reproached herself for ever doubting his love or loyalty. When she rode her pony over to the wag farm next day, Ethel's bright face was wreathed with smiles. She told her girlfriends that she and Joe had had a good talk together, and understood each other better than ever before. The nieces did not tell her of their newly-conceived hopes that the young couple would presently possess enough money to render their future comfortable, because there were so many chances that Bob West might win the little game being played. But at this moment Ethel did not need worldly wealth to make her heart light and happy, for she had regained her childhood's friend, and his injuries only rendered the boy the more interesting and companiable. Meantime Uncle John had been busily thinking. It annoyed him to be so compositely defied by a rascally country merchant, and he resolved, if he must fight, to fight with all his might. So he wired to his agent in New York the following words. What part of the Armaco timber-tract burned in forest fire three years ago? The answer he received made him give a satisfied grunt. No forest fires near Armaco three years ago. Almodona, 70 miles north, burned at that time, and newspaper reports confounded the names. Very good, exclaimed Uncle John. I've got the rascal now. He issued instructions to the lumber company to make no further payments of royalties to Robert West until otherwise advised, and this had the effect of bringing West to the farm white with rage. What do you mean by this action, Mr. Merrick? he demanded. We've been paying you money that does not belong to you for three years, sir, was the reply. In a few days, when my investigations are complete, I will give you the option of being arrested for embezzlement of funds belonging to Joseph Weg and the Thompson's, or restoring to them every penny of their money. West stared. You are carrying matters with a high hand, sir, he sneered. Oh, no, I am acting very leniently, said Uncle John. Neither Joe nor the Thompson's own a dollar's interest in the Armaco property. It is all mine and mine alone. Then produce the stock and prove it, retorted Mr. Merrick triumphantly. At that moment, Louise interrupted the interview by entering the room suddenly. Oh, Uncle, said she, will you join us in a picnic to the falls tomorrow afternoon? We are all going. And I won't be left behind, he replied, smiling upon her. We shall take even Thomas and Nora and come home late in the evening by moonlight. That suits me, my dear, said he. West stood silent and scowling, but as the girl tripped away, she saw him raise his eyes and glance slightly toward the cupboard, for they were in the right-wing room. Mr. Merrick, he resumed in a harsh voice, I warn you that if your company holds up the payment of my royalties it will break the contract and I will forbid them to cut another tree. You are doubtless aware that there are a dozen firms willing to take your place and pay me higher royalties. Act as you please, sir, said Uncle John indifferently. I believe you are face to face with ruin and it won't matter much what you do. West went away more quietly than he had come and the girls exclaimed delightedly that trap is set, Uncle. I think so myself, he rejoined. That picnic was a happy thought, Louise. Early the next afternoon they started out with hammocks and baskets and all the paraphernalia of a picnic party. The three girls, Nora and Uncle John, squeezed themselves into the Surrey, while the major and old Hux rode after them in the ancient buggy, with Dan moaning and groaning every step he took. But the old horse moved more briskly when following Joe, and Hux could get more speed out of him than anyone else, so he did not lag much behind. The procession entered Millville, where a brief stop was made at the store, and then made its exit by the North Road. West was standing in the door of his hardware store, quietly observing them. When they disappeared in the grove he locked the door of his establishment and sauntered in the direction of the Pearson farm. No one noticing him, except Peggy McNutt, who was disappointed because he had intended to go over presently and buy a paper of tax. When the village was left behind Uncle John drove swiftly along, following the curve of the lake, until he reached a primitive lane that he had discovered formed a shortcut directly back to the Weg farm. Oh, Thomas was amazed by this queer action on the part of the picnic party, but aside from blind Nora, who had no idea where they were, the others seemed full of repressed eagerness, and in no way surprised. The lane proved very rocky, though, and they were obliged to jolt slowly over the big cobblestones, so Beth and Patsy leaped out of the Surrey, and the former called out, we will run through the forest, Uncle, and get home as soon as you do. Be careful not to show yourselves then, he replied. Remember our plans. We will, and don't forget to tie the horses in the thicket and warn Thomas and Nora to keep quiet until we come for them, said Patsy. I'll attend to all that, dear, remarked Louise composedly, but if you girls are determined to walk, you must hurry along, or you'll keep us waiting. The nieces had explored every path in the neighborhood by this time, so Beth and Patsy were quite at home in the pine forest. The horses started up again, and after struggling along another quarter of a mile, a wheel of the Surrey dished between two stones, and with a bump the axle struck the ground, and the journey was promptly arrested. What shall we do now? asked Uncle John, much annoyed, as the party alighted to examine the wreck. Saint Thomas, back to the village for another wheel, suggested the major. Not today, cried Louise. We mustn't appear in the village again this afternoon on any account. It is absolutely necessary we should keep out of sight. True, agreed Uncle John promptly. Thomas and Nora must picnic here all by themselves until nearly midnight. Then they may drive the buggy home, leading Daniel behind them. It will be time enough tomorrow to get a new buggy wheel, and the broken Surrey won't be in anybody's way until we send for it. If old Huck's thought they had all gone crazy that day, he was seemingly justified in the suspicion, for his master left the baskets of good things to be consumed by himself and Nora, and started to walk to the farm. The major and Louise accompany him. We mustn't loiter, said the girl, for while West may wait until darkness falls to visit the farm, he's equally liable to arrive at any time this afternoon. He's seen us all depart and believes the house deserted. But they were obliged to keep to the lane where walking was difficult, and meantime Patsy and Beth were tripping easily along their woodland paths and making much better progress. End of Chapter 21 Chapter 22 of Aunt Jane's Neesis at Millville. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Kira Downey. Aunt Jane's Neesis at Millville by L. Frank Baum. Chapter 22. Caught. We're early, said Beth, as they came to the edge of the woods and sited the farmhouse. That's better than being late. Then she stopped and suddenly with a low cry and pointed to the right ring, which directly faced them. Bob West turned the corner of the house and tried the door of Uncle John's room and then walked toward one of the French windows. The sash was not fastened, so he deliberately opened it and stepped inside. What shall we do? Cast Patsy, clasping her hands sadly. Beth was always cool in an emergency. You creep up to the window, dear, and wait till you hear me open the door inside, she said. I'll run through the house and enter from the living room. The key's under the mat, you know. But what can we do? Aunt Rita waiting till Uncle John and Father come? Patsy asked in a trembling voice. Of course not. We might rob the cupboard and be gone by that time. We've got to act promptly, Patsy, so don't be afraid. Without further words, Beth ran around the back of the house and disappeared while Patsy, trying to control the beating of her heart, stole softly over the lawn to the open window of Uncle John's room. She could not help looking in at the risk of discovery. Bob West, tall, lean, and composed as ever was standing beside the cupboard, the doors of which were wide open. The outer doors were of wood, paneled and carved. The inner ones were of plates and heavy steel. And in the lock that secured these large doors were the keys had so long been missing. Both were attached to a slender silver chain. As Patsy appeared in that demand, West was engaged in deliberately examining packet after packet of papers, evidently striving to find the missing stock certificates. He was in no hurry believing he would have the house to himself for several hours. So he tumbled Captain Weg's souvenirs of foreign lands and a heap on the floor beside him, thrusting his hand into every corner of the cupboard in order that the search might be thorough. He had once before examined the place in vain, this time he intended to succeed. Presently, West drew a cigar from his pocket, lighted it, and was about to throw the match upon the floor when the thought that it might later betray his presence made him pause, and then walked to the open window. As he approached, Patsy became panic stricken and, while knowing that she ought to run or hide, stood rooted to the spot, gazing half appealingly and half defiantly into the startled eyes of the man who had suddenly confronted her. So for a moment they stood motionless. West was thinking rapidly. By some error he had miscounted the picnic party and this girl had been left at home. She had discovered his intrusion, had seen him at the cupboard, and would report the matter to John Merrick. But this being the case, it would do him no good to retreat without accomplishing his purpose. If once he secured the stock certificates, he could afford to laugh at his accusers, and secure them he must while he had the opportunity. So clearly did these thoughts follow one another that West's hesitation seemed only momentary. Without a word to the girl, he tossed the match upon the grass, calmly turned his back, and started for the cupboard again. But he renewed surprise the way to him. Breathe as if in his absence another girl had entered the room. Beth opened the door, even as West turned towards the window, and, taking in the situation out of glance, she tiptoed swiftly to the cupboard, withdrew the keys from the lock, and dropped the noiselessly into a wide-mouthed space that stood on the table and was partially filled with flowers. The next instant, West turned and saw her, but she smiled at him triumphantly. Good afternoon, sir, she said, sweetly. Can I do anything to assist you? West uttered an impatient exclamation and regarded Beth savagely. Is the house full of girls, he demanded? Oh, no, Patsy and I are quite alone, she replied with a laugh. Come in, Patsy, dear, and help me entertain our guests, she added. Patsy came through the window and stood beside her cousin. The man stared at them, bit his lip, and then turned again to the cupboard. If he noted the absence of keys, he did not remark upon the fact, but with hurried yet thorough examination began anew to turn over the bundles of papers. Beth sat down and watched him, but Patsy remained standing behind her chair. West emptied all the shelves, and then after a pause took out his pocketknife and began tapping with its ends the steel sides of the cupboard. There is no doubt he suspected the existence of a secret aperture, and Beth began to feel uneasy. Slowly the man worked his way downward from shelf to shelf and began to sound the bottom plates, wholly oblivious of the fascinated gaze of the two young girls. Then a sudden gruff of ejaculation startled them all, and West swung around to find a new group of watchers outside the window. In the foreground appeared a stern face of John Merrick. The scene was intensely dramatic to all but the singular man who had been battling to retain a fortune. West knew in an instant that his attempt to secure the certificates was a failure. He turned from the cupboard, dusted his hands, and nodded gravely to the last arrivals. Come in, Mr. Merrick, he said, seating himself in a chair and removing his hat, which he had been wearing. I owe you an apology for intruding upon your premises in your absence. Uncle John strode into the room, angry and indignant, at the fellow's cool impertinence. The Major and Louise followed, and all eyes centered upon the face of Bob West. The contents of this cupboard, remarked the hardware merchant calmly, belonged to the state of Captain Wegg, and can scarcely be claimed by you because you have purchased the house. You falsely accused me the other day, sir. I've been searching for proof that the Al-Maqwo timber-tracked stock is entirely my property. Have you found such proof, inquired Mr. Merrick? Not yet. And you say the stock was issued to you? West hesitated. It was all transferred to me by Captain Wegg and Will Thompson. Does the transfer appear upon the stock itself? Of course, sir. In that case, said Uncle John, I shall be obliged to ask your pardon, but the fact can be easily proved. He walked to the open cupboard, felt for the slide Joe had described to him, and drew it forward. A small drawer was behind the orifice, and from this Mr. Merrick drew a packet of papers. West gave a start and half a rose, then he settled back into his chair again. Hmm. This appears to be the stock in question, said Uncle John. He drew a chair to the table, unfolded the documents, and examined them with deliberate care. The nieces watched his face curiously. Mr. Merrick first frowned, then turned red, and finally a stern, determined look settled upon his rugged features. Take your stock, Mr. West, he said, tossing it towards the man, and try to forgive us for making fools of ourselves. End of Chapter 22 Caught. Recording by Kiera Downey Chapter 23 Mr. West explains. A cry of amazed protest burst from the girls. The major whistled softly and walked to the window. I find the stock properly transferred, continued Uncle John, grimly conscious that he was as thoroughly disappointed as the girls. It is signed by both Wag and Thompson, and witnessed in the presence of a notary. I congratulate you, Mr. West, you have acquired a fortune. But not recently, replied the hardware dealer, enjoying the confusion of his recent opponents. I have owned this stock for more than three years, and you will see by the amount endorsed upon it that I paid a liberal price for it under the circumstances. Uncle John gave a start and a shrewd look. Of course you did, said he, on paper. I have records to prove that both Captain Wag and Will Thompson received their money, said Mr. West quietly. I see it is hard for you to abandon the idea that I am a rogue. There could be no adequate reply to this, so for a time all sat in moody silence, but the thoughts of some were busy. I would like Mr. West to explain what became of the money he paid for this stock, said Louise, adding, that is, if he will be so courteous. West did not answer for a moment. Then he said, with a gesture of indifference, I am willing to tell all I know, but you people must admit that the annoyances you have caused me during the past fortnight to say nothing of the gratuitous insults heaped upon my head render me little inclined to favour you. You are quite justified in feeling as you do, replied Uncle John Meekly. I have been an ass, West, but circumstances warranted me in suspecting you, and even Joseph Wegg did not know that the Almaquo stock had been transferred to you. He merely glanced at it at the time of his father's death without noticing the endorsement, and thought the fire had rendered it worthless. But if you then owned the stock, why was it not in your possession? That was due to my carelessness, was the reply. The only notary around here is at Hooker's Falls, and Mr. Thompson offered to have him come to Captain Wegg's residence and witness the transfer. As my presence was not necessary for this, and I had full confidence in my friend's integrity, I paid them their money, which they were eager to secure at once, and said I would call in a few days for the stock. I did call, and was told the notary had been here, and the transfer had been legally made. Wegg said he would get the stock from the cupboard and hand it to me, but we both forgot it at that time. After his death I could not find it, for it was in the secret drawer. Another thing, sir, said Uncle John. If neither Wegg nor Thompson was then interested in the Almaquo property, why did the news of its destruction by fire shock them so greatly that the result was Captain Wegg's death? I see it will be necessary for me to explain to you more fully, returned West, with a thoughtful look. It is evident, Mr. Merrick, from your questions, that some of these occurrences seem suspicious to a stranger, and perhaps you are not so much to be blamed as, in my annoyance and indignation, I have imagined. I would like the matter cleared up for the sake of Ethel and Joe, said Mr. Merrick simply. And so would I, declared the hardware dealer. You must know, sir, that Will Thompson was the one who first led Captain Wegg into investing his money. I think the Captain did it merely to please Will, for at that time he had become so indifferent to worldly affairs that he took no interest in anything beyond a mild wish to provide for his son's future. But Thompson was erratic in judgment, so Wegg used to bring their matters to me to decide upon. I always advised them as honestly as I was able. At the time I secured an option on the Almaquot tract, and wanted them to join me. Will Thompson had found another lot of timber, but located in an out-of-the-way corner, which he urged the Captain to join him in buying. Wegg brought the matter to me as usual, and I pointed out that my proposed contract with the Pierce Lane Lumber Company would assure our making a handsome profit at Almaquot, while Thompson had no one in view to cut the other tract. Indeed it was far away from any railroad. Wegg saw the force of my argument, and insisted that Thompson abandoned his idea and accept my proposition. Together we brought the property, having formed a stock company, and the contract for cutting the timber was also secured. Things were looking bright for us, and royalty payments would soon be coming in. Then to my amazement Wegg came to me and wanted to sell out their interests. He said Thompson had always been dissatisfied because they had not bought the other tract of timber, that the worry and disappointment was affecting his friend's mind. He was personally satisfied that my investment was the best, but in order to soothe old Will and prevent his mind from giving way, Wegg wanted to withdraw and purchase the other tract. I knew there was a fortune in Almaquot, so I went to New York and mortgaged all I possessed, discounting a lot of notes given me by farmers and payment for machinery, and finally borrowing at a high rate of interest the rest of the money I needed. In other words, I risked all my fortune on Almaquot, and brought the money home to pay Wegg and Thompson for their interest. The moment they received the payment, they invested it in the bog tract. Hold on, cried Uncle John. What tract did you say? The bog timber tract, sir. It lies—I know where it lies. Our company has been a whole year trying to find out who owned it. A Wegg and Thompson bought it. I was angry at the time because their withdrawal had driven me to a tight corner to protect my investment, and I told them they would bitterly regret their action. I think Wegg agreed with me, but Will Thompson was still stubborn. Then came the news of the fire at Almaquot. It was a false report I afterward learned, but at that time I believed the newspapers, and the blow almost deprived me of reason. In my excitement I rushed over to Wegg's farm and found the two men together, whereupon I told them I was ruined. The news affected them powerfully, because they had just saved themselves from a like ruin, they thought. Wegg was also a sympathetic man in spite of his reserve. His old heart trouble suddenly came upon him, aggravated by the excitement of the hour, and he died with scarcely a moan. Thompson, whose reason was tottering long before this, became violently insane at witnessing his friend's death, and has never since recovered. That is all I am able to tell you, sir. The bog tract, said Uncle John slowly, is worth far more than the Almaquot. Old Will Thompson was sane enough when insisting on that investment, but where is the stock or deed to show that they bought that property? I do not know, sir. I only know they told me they had affected the purchase. Pardon me, said the Major. Have you not been through this cupboard before? West looked at him with a frown. Yes, in a search for my own stock, he said, but I found neither that nor any deed to the bog property. I am not a thief, Major Doyle. You stole the keys, though, said Louise pointedly. I did not even do that, said West. On the day of the funeral, Joe carelessly left them lying upon a table, so I slipped them into my pocket. When I thought of them again, Joe had gone away, and I did not know his address. I came over and searched the cupboard unsuccessfully. But it was not a matter of great importance at that time if the stock was mislaid, since there was no one to contest my ownership of it. It was only after Mr. Merrick accused me of robbing my old friends, and ordered my payment stopped that I realized it was important to me to prove my ownership. That is why I came here to-day. Again a silence fell upon the group. Said Uncle John, finally. If the deed to the bog tract can be found, Joe and Ethel will be rich. I wonder what became of the paper? No one answered. For here was another mystery. CHAPTER XXIV Peggy has revenge. Joe Wegg made a rapid recovery, his strength returning under the influence of pleasant surroundings, and frequent visits from Ethel and Uncle John's three nieces. Not a word was hinted to either the invalid or the school teacher regarding their inquiries. Mr. Merrick was making about the deed to the bog timberlands, which, if found, would make the young couple independent. Joe was planning to exploit a new patent as soon as he could earn enough to get it introduced. And Ethel exhibited a sublime confidence in the boy's ability that rendered all question of money insignificant. Joe's sudden appearance in the land of his birth and his generally smashed-up condition were a nine-days wonder in Millville. The gossips wanted to know all the whys and wherefores, but the boy kept his room in the hotel, or only walked out when accompanied by Ethel or one of the three nieces. Sometimes they took him to ride, as he grew better, and the fact that Joe wore hand and glove with the nibobs lent him a distinction he never before possessed. McNutt, always busy over somebody else's affairs, was very curious to know what had caused the accident Joe had suffered. Notwithstanding the little affair of the letter in which he had not appeared with a special credit, Peggy was made an effort to interview the young man that resulted in his complete discomforture. But that did not deter him from indulging in various vivid speculations about Joe Weg, which the simple villagers listened to with attention. For one thing he confided to the boys at the store that, in his opinion, the man who had murdered Captain Weg had tried to murder his son also, and it wasn't likely Joe could manage to escape him a second time. Another tale evolved from Peggy's fertile imagination was that Joe, about to starve to death in the city, had turned burglar and been shot in the arm in an attempt at house-breaking. Wouldn't be spressed, said the agent in an odd voice. If the police was on his track now, perhaps there's a reward offered, boys, let's keep an eye on him. He waylaid the nieces once or twice and tried to secure from them a verification of his somber suspicions, which they mischievously fostered. The girls found him a source of much amusement, and relieved their own disappointment at finding the Weg mystery, a pricked bubble by getting McNutt excited over many sly suggestions of hidden crimes. They knew he was harmless, for even his neighbors needed proof of any assertion he made. Moreover, the investigation Uncle John was making would soon set matters right, so the young ladies did not hesitate to have fun at a little agent's expense. One of McNutt's numerous occupations was raising a patch of watermelons each year on the lot back of the house. These he had fostered with great care since the plants had first sprouted through the soil, and in these late August days two or three hundreds of fine big melons were just getting ripe. He showed the patch with much pride one day to the nieces, saying, Here's the most extra fine melding patch in this county, if I do say it myself. Dan Braley, he thinks he can raise meldings, but the old fool ain't got a circumstance to this. Ain't they beauties? It seems to me, observed Patsy Gravely, that Braley's are just as good. We passed his place this morning and wondered how he could raise such enormous melons. Normus Braley's? I'm sure they are finer than these, said Beth. Well, I'll be jiggered! Peggy's eyes stared as they had never stared before. Dan Braley? He's a miserable old skin-flint. That man couldn't raise decent meldings if he tried. What do you charge for melons, Mr. McNutt, inquired Louise? Charge? Or fifty cents a piece is my price to Nabob's, and dirt cheap at that. That is too much, declared Patsy. Mr. Braley says he will sell his melons for fifteen cents each. Him? Fifteen cents? Yes, Peggy, greatly disappointed. Say, Braley's a disturbing element in these parts. He ought to go to jail for asking fifteen cents for them mean little melons, oh his. They seem as large as yours, murmur, Louise. But they ain't, and Braley's a cheat and a rascal, while an honester man near me don't breathe. Nobody likes Braley round Millville, while only last winter he called me a meddler, impublic, and said I shot off my mouth too much, me! How impolite! But, Dad's Dan Braley, my melons at fifty cents is better than his at fifteen. Tell me, said Patsy, with a smile. Did you ever rob a melon patch, Mr. McNutt? Me? I don't have to, I grow them. But the ones you grow are worth fifty cents each, are they not? Sure, man is. Then every time you eat one of your own melons, you eat fifty cents. If you were eating one of Mr. Braley's melons, you would only eat fifteen cents. And it would be Braley's fifteen cents too, added Beth quickly. Peggy turned his protruding eyes from one to the other, and a smile slowly spread over his features. Bad jinx, let's rob Bailey's melon patch, he cried. All right, we'll help you, answered Patsy readily. Oh, my dear, remonstrated Louise, not understanding. It will be such fun, replied her cousin, with eyes dancing mirrorly. Boys, always rob melon patches, so I don't see why girls shouldn't. When shall we do it, Mr. McNutt? There ain't any moon just now, and the knot's as dark as blazes. Let's go to knot. It's a bargain, declared Patsy. We will come for you in the Surrey, at ten o'clock, and I'll drive together to the back of Braley's yard, and take all the melons we want. It'll serve him right, said Peggy delightedly. Old Dan called me a meddler one in public, and I'm bound to get even with him. Don't betray us, sir, pleaded Beth. I can't, replied McNutt, frankly. I meant it myself, and we'll just find out what his blame twisted old fifteen-cent melons is like. Patsy was overjoyed at the success of her plot, which she had conceived on the spur of the moment, as most clever plots are conceived. On the way home, she confided to her cousins a method of securing revenge upon the agent for selling them the three copies of the Lives of the Saints. McNutt wants to get even with Braley, he says, and we want to get even with McNutt. I think our chances are best, don't you? She asked, and they decided to join the conspiracy. There was some difficulty escaping from Uncle John and the Major that night, but Patsy got them interested in a game of chess that was likely to last some hours, while Beth stole to the barn and harnessed Joe to the Surrey. Soon the other slipped out and joined her, and with Patsy and Beth on the front seat, and Louise inside the canopy, they drove slowly away until the sound of the horse's feet on the stones was no longer likely to betray them. McNutt was waiting for them when they quietly drew up before his house. The village was dark and silent, for its inhabitants retired early to bed. By good fortune, the sky was overcast with heavy clouds and not even the glimmer of a star relieved the gloom. They put McNutt on the back seat, with Louise cautioned him to be quiet and then drove away. Dan Braley's place was two miles distant, but in answer to Peggy's earnest inquiry if she knew the way, Beth declared she could find it blindfolded. In a few moments Louise had engaged the agent in a spirited discussion of the absorbing mystery, and so occupied his attention that he paid no heed to the direction they had taken. The back seat was hemmed in by side curtains and the canopy, so it would be no wonder if he lost all sense of direction, even had not the remarks of the girl at his side completely absorbed him. Beth drove slowly down the main street, up a lane, back by the Lake Road and along the street again, and this program was repeated several times, until she thought a significant distance had been covered to convince the agent they had arrived at Braley's. The way was pitch dark, but the horse was sensible enough to keep in the middle of the road, so they met with no accident, more than a jolt over a stone now and then. But now the most difficult part of the enterprise lay before them. The girls turned down the lane, back of the main street, and bumped over the ruts until they thought they had arrived at a spot opposite McNutt's own melon patch. What's wrong, as the agent, as they suddenly stopped with a jerk? This ought to be Braley's, said Beth, but it's so dark I'm not certain just where we are. McNutt thrust his head out and peered into the blackness. Drive along a little, he whispered. The girl obeyed. Stop, stop, he said a moment later. I think that's them contwisted 15 cent melons over there. They all got out and Beth tied the horse to the fence. Peggy climbed over and it once whispered, Come on, it's them all, right? Through the drifting clouds there was just enough light to enable them to perceive the dark forms of the melons lying side by side upon their vines. The agent took out his big clasp knife and recklessly slashed one of them open. Green is grass, he grumbled, and slashed another. Patsy giggled and the others felt a sudden irresistible impulse to join her. Keep still, caution McNutt. Wouldn't old Dan be just raven if he knew this? Say, here's a ripe one, have a slice. They all felt for the slices he offered and ate the fruit without being able to see it, but it really tasted delicious. As the girls feasted, they heard a crunching sound and inquired in low voices what it was. McNutt was stumping over the patch and plumping his wooden foot into every melon he could find, smashing them wantonly against the ground. The discovery filled them with horror. They had thought inducing the agent to rob his own patch of a few melons, while under the delusion that they belonged to his enemy, Braley, a bit of harmless fun. But here was the vindictive fellow actually destroying his own property by the wholesale. Oh, don't, please don't, Mr. McNutt, pleaded Patsy in frightened accents. Yes, I will, declared the agent stubbornly. I'll get even with Dan Braley for once in my life if and I never do another thing by a gum. But it's wrong, it's wicked, protested Beth. Can't help it. This is my chance and I'll make them bum 15 cent millings look like a penny apiece. For I'll get done with them. Never mind girls, whispered Louise, it's the law of retribution. Poor Peggy will be sorry for this tomorrow. The man had not the faintest suspicion where he was. He knew his own melon patch well enough, having worked in it at times all the summer. But he had never climbed over the fence and approached it from the rear before, so it took on a new aspect to him from this point of view. And moreover, the night was dark enough to deceive anybody. If he came across an especially big melon, McNutt would lug it to the carriage and dump it in. And so angry and energetic was the little man that in a brief space the melon patch was a scene of awful devastation, and the Surrey contained all the fruit that survived the massacre. Beth unhitched the horse, and they all took their places in the carriage again, having some difficulty to find places for their feet on account of the cargo of melons. McNutt was stowed away inside with Louise, and they drove away up the lane. The agent was jubilant and triumphant and chuckled in gleeful tones that filled the girls with remorse as they remembered the annihilation of McNutt's cherished melons. Old Dan usually has a dorg, said Peggy between his fits of laughter, but I guess he had him chained up to not. I'm not positively sure that was Braley's place, remarked Beth. It's so very dark. Oh, it were Braley's all right, McNutt retorted. I could tell by the second-class taste of them melons and their measly little size, them things in a circumstance to the kind I raise. Are you sure, asked Louise? Sure shooting. Guess I'm a judge of melons when I seize them. No one could see tonight, asked Beth. Feelings just the same, declared the little man, confidently. After wandering around a sufficient length of time to ally suspicion, Beth finally drew up before McNutt's house again. I'll just take my share of the melons, said Peggy, as he elighted. They ain't much count being Braley's, but it'll save me and the old woman from eating her own, or perhaps I can sell them to Sam Codding. He took rather more than his share of the spoils, but the girls had no voice to object. They were by this time so convulsed with suppressed merriment that they had hard work not to shriek aloud their laughter. For in spite of the tragic revelations the morrow would bring forth, the situation was so undeniably ridiculous that they could not resist its humor. I've had a heap of fun, whispered McNutt. Could not, gals, if you didn't belong to that grim-twisted Nabob, you'd be some pumpkins. Thank you, Mr. McNutt. Good night. And it was not until well on their journey to the farm that the girls finally dared to abandon further restraint. Then, indeed, they made the grim Black Hills of the Plateau resound to the peals of their merry laughter. Chapter 25 Good News at Last It was on the morning following this adventure that Uncle John received a bulky envelope from the city, containing the results of the investigation he had ordered regarding the ownership of the Boke tract of Pine Forest. It appeared that the company in which he was so largely interested had found the tract very valuable and had been seeking for the owners in order to purchase it or lease the right to cut the timber. But although they had traced it through the hands of several successive owners, the present holders were all unknown to them until Mr. Merrick's information had furnished them with a clue. A year ago the company had paid up the back taxes, two years overdue, in order to establish a claim to the property, and now they easily succeeded in finding the record of the deed from a certain Charles Walton to Jonas Weg and William Thompson. The deed itself could not be found, but Uncle John considered the county record a sufficient claim to entitle the young folks to the property, unless the ownership should be contested by others, which was not likely. Uncle John invited Ethel and Joe to dine with him that evening, and Mary was told the occasion merited the best menu she could provide. The young folks arrived, without any idea of receiving more than a good time and the pleasure of mingling with the cordial, kindly household at the farm. But the general air of hilarity and good fellowship pervading the family circle this evening inspired the guests with alike enthusiasm and no party could be merrier than the one that did full justice to Mary's superior cooking. One of the last courses consisted of iced watermelon, and when it appeared the three girls eyed one another guiltily, and then made frantic attempts to suppress their laughter, which was unseemly because no one but themselves understood the joke. But all else was speedily forgotten in the interest of the coming ceremony, which Mr. Merrick had carefully planned and prepared. The company was invited to assemble in the room comprising the spacious right wing, and when all were seated the little gentlemen coughed to clear his throat and straightway began his preamble. He recited the manner in which Captain Weg and Will Thompson, having money to invest, were led into an enterprise which Bob West had proposed, but finally preferred another venture and so withdrew their money altogether from the Almaco tract. This statement cost both Joe and Ethel to stare hard, but they said nothing. Your grandfather Ethel continued the narrator was much impressed by the value of another timber tract, although where he got his information concerning it I have been unable to discover. This piece of property called the Bogue tract was purchased by Weg and Thompson with the money they withdrew from Almaco and still stands in their name. Then he recounted, quite frankly, his unjust suspicions of the hardware dealer and told of the interview in which the full details of this transaction were disclosed by West, as well as the truth relating to the death of Captain Weg and the sudden insanity and paralysis of old Will Thompson. Joe could corroborate this last and now understood why Thompson had cried out that West's good news had killed his father. He meant, of course, their narrow escape from being involved in West's supposed ruin, for at that time no one knew the report of the fire was false. Finally, these matters being cleared up, Uncle John declared that the Pierce Lane Lumber Company was willing to contract to cut the timber on the Bogue property or would pay a lump sum of two hundred thousand dollars for such title to the tract as could be given. He did not add that he had personally offered to guarantee the title. That was an unnecessary bit of information. You may perhaps imagine the happiness this announcement gave Joe and Ethel. They could scarcely believe the good news was true, even when the kindly old gentleman with tears in his eyes congratulated the young couple on the fortune in store for them. The major followed with a happy speech of felicitation, and then the three girls hugged the little schoolteacher rapturously and told her how glad they were. I think, sir, said Joe, striving to curb his elation, that it will be better in the end for us to accept the royalty, don't you? I do indeed, my boy, was the reply, for if our people make an offer for the land of two hundred thousand, you may rest assured it is worth much more. The manager has confided to me in his letter that if we are obliged to pay royalties, the timber will cost us nearly double what it would by an outright purchase of the tract. In that case, sir, began Joe eagerly, we will nonsense. The company can afford the royalty, Joe, for it is making a heap of money. More than I wish it were. One of my greatest trials is to take care of the money I've already made, and he couldn't do it at all without my help broke in the major. Don't ye hesitate to take an advantage of him, Joseph, if ye can get it, which I doubt. For Mr. Merrick is most disgracefully rich already. That's true, sighed the little millionaire, so it will be a royalty, Joe, we're paying the same percentage to Bob West for the Elmaco tract, but yours is so much better, I'm sure your earnings will furnish you and Ethel with all the income you need. They sat this coursing upon the happy event for some time longer, but Joe had to return to the hotel early because he was not yet strong enough to be out late. Before I go, Mr. Merrick, he said, I'd like you to give me my mother's picture, which is in the secret drawer of the cupboard. You have the keys now, and Ethel is curious to see how my mother looked. Uncle John went at once to the cupboard and unlocked the doors. Joe himself pushed the slide and took out of the drawer the picture which had laying just beneath the Elmaco stock certificates. The picture was passed reverently around. A sweet-faced, sad little woman it showed, with appealing eyes and lips that seemed to quiver even in the photograph. As Louise held it in her hand, something induced her to turn it over. Here's some writing on the back, she said. Joe bent over and read it aloud. It was in his father's handwriting. Press the spring in the left-hand lower corner of the secret drawer. Ha! cried Uncle John, while the others stared stupidly. That's it, that's the information we've been wanting so long, Joseph. He ran to the cupboard even as he spoke, and while they all thronged about him, thrust in his hand, felt for the spring and pressed it. The bottom of the drawer lifted, showing another cavity beneath. From this the searcher withdrew a long envelope tied with red tape. At last Joseph he shouted, triumphantly waving the envelope over his head, and then he read aloud the words docketed upon the outside. Warranted deed and conveyance from Charles Walton to Jonas Weg and William Thompson. Our troubles are over, my boy, for here is the key to your fortune. Also whispered Louise to her cousins, rather disconsolently. It explains the last shred of mystery about the Weg case. High, ho! what a chase we've had for nothing. Not for nothing, dear, replied Patsy softly, for we've helped make two people happy, and that ought to repay us for all our anxiety and labour. A knock was heard at the door, and old Hux entered and handed Mr. Merrick a paper. He's waiting, sir, he said, ambiguously. Oh, Tom! Tom! cried Joe Weg, rising to throw his arms around the old man's neck. I'm rich, Tom! All my troubles are over, and Mr. Merrick has done it all for Ethel and me. The ever-smiling face of the ancient retainer did not change, but his eyes softened and filled with tears as he hugged the boy close to his breast. God be praised, Joe, he said, in a low voice. I almost knew the Merrick's would bring us luck. What the devil does this mean, demanded Uncle John at this juncture, as he fluttered the paper and glared angrily around. What is it, dear, inquired Louise? See for yourself, he returned. She took the paper and read it while Patsy and Beth peered over her shoulder. The following was scrawled upon a sheet of soil stationery. John Merrick, Esquire, too, Marshall McMain McNutt, deader. To your gall, smashing 162 melings at fifty cents a one. Eighty-one dollars. Please remit and save trouble. The nieces screamed, laughing until they cried, while Uncle John spluttered, smiled, beamed, and then requested an explanation. Patsy told the story of the watermelon raid with rare humor, and it served to amuse everybody and relieve the strain which had preceded the arrival of McNutt's bill. Did you say the man's waiting, Thomas, asked Uncle John? Yes, sir. Here, give him five dollars and tell him to recede the bill. If he refuses, I'll carry the matter to the courts. McNutt's a rascal and a fool in the bargain, but we've had some of his melons, and the girls have had five dollars worth of fun in getting them, but assure him that this squares accounts, Thomas. Thomas performed his mission. McNutt rolled his eyes, pounded the floor with his stump to emphasize his mingled anger and satisfaction, and then receded the bill. It's just five more and I expected to get, Hux, he said with a grin. But what's the use of having the bobs around if you don't bleed him? End of Chapter 25, Recording by Katina. End of On Jane's Neeses at Millville by L. Frank Baum