AUNT JANE'S NIECES AT MILLVILLE
BY
EDITH VAN DYNE (one of L. Frank Baum's pen names)
1908
Continued....
CHAPTER XIV.
THE MAJOR IS PUZZLED.
Ethel came frequently to visit the girls at the Wegg
farm, and at such
times Uncle John treated her with the same
affectionate consideration he
bestowed upon his nieces, and made her so cordially
welcome that the
little school teacher felt entirely at her ease. The
girls did not
confide to Ethel their investigation of the Wegg
mystery, but in all
other matters gave her their full confidence.
Together they made
excursions to the Falls, to the natural caves on the
rocky hill called
Mount Parnassus, or rowed on the lake, or walked or
drove, as the mood
seized them. But mostly they loved the shade of the
pines and the broad
green beside the quaint mansion Captain Wegg had
built, and which now
contained all the elements of a modern summer home.
Once Louise asked Ethel, casually, if she knew what
"great trouble" had
come to Hucks and his wife in their early life, but
the girl frankly
answered that the old people had never referred to
anything of the kind
in her presence.
Finally a telegram announced the arrival of Major
Doyle to join the
party at the farm. Patsy was in the seventh heaven
of delight, and drove
Joe over to the Junction to meet her father on the
arrival of the
morning train.
The Major was a prime favorite with all the party
and his coming infused
new life into the household. He was the type of
educated, polished,
open-hearted Irish gentleman it is always a delight
to meet, and Uncle
John beamed upon his brother-in-law in a way that
betokened a hearty
welcome. It was a source of much satisfaction to lug
the Major over the
farm and prove to him how wise Mr. Merrick had been
in deciding to spend
the summer on his own property; and the Major freely
acknowledged that
he had been in error and the place was as charming
as anyone could wish.
It was a great treat to the grizzled old warrior to
find himself in the
country, away from every responsibility of work, and
he promised himself
a fortnight of absolute rest, with the recreation of
beholding his
beloved Patsy as often as he pleased.
Of course, the girl would tell her father about the
Wegg mystery, for
Patsy had a habit of telling him everything;
therefore the cousins
decided to take the Major freely into their
confidence, so as to obtain
the benefit of his opinion. That could not be done
the first day, of
course, for on that day Uncle John insisted on
displaying the farm and
afterward carrying the Major a willing prisoner to
watch him fish in the
brook. But on the following morning the girls
surrounded Patsy's father
and with solemn faces recounted their suspicions,
the important clues
they had unearthed, and their earnest desire to
right the great wrong
that had been done by apprehending the criminal.
The Major smoked his after breakfast cigar and
listened attentively. The
story, told consecutively, was quite impressive. In
spite of his long
experience in buffeting the world, the old soldier's
heart was still as
simple as that of a child, and the recital awakened
his sympathies
at once.
"'Tis evident, me children," said he, in his quaint
way, "that you've
shtumbled on the inside of a crime that doesn't show
on the outside.
Many of the things you mention are so plain that he
who runs may read;
but I've remarked that it's just the things ye don't
suspect in real
life that prove to be the most important."
"That is true, Major," commented Louise. "At first
it was just to amuse
ourselves that we became amateur detectives, but the
developments are so
startling and serious that we now consider it our
duty to uncover the
whole dreadful crime, in the interests of justice."
"Just so," he said, nodding.
"But I'm sure Old Hucks is innocent!" declared
Patsy, emphatically.
"Then he is," asserted the Major; "for Patsy's
always right, even when
she's wrong. I've had me eye on that man Hucks
already, for he's the
merriest faced villain I ever encountered. Do you
say he's shy with
you girls?"
"He seems afraid of us, or suspicious, and won't let
us talk to him,"
answered Beth.
"Leave him to me," proposed the Major, turning a
stern face but
twinkling eyes upon the group. "'Twill be my task to
detect him. Leave
him to me, young women, an' I'll put the
thumb-screws on him in
short order."
Here was the sort of energetic confederate they had
longed for. The
Major's assurance of co-operation was welcome
indeed, and while he
entered heartily into their campaign he agreed that
no mention of the
affair ought to reach Uncle John's ears until the
case was complete and
they could call upon the authorities to arrest the
criminal.
"It's me humble opinion," he remarked, "that the
interesting individual
you call the 'avenger' was put on the trail by
someone here--either
Thomas Hucks, or the timber-toed book agent, or the
respectable hardware
man. Being invited to come and do his worst, he
passed himself as a
docther on a fishing excursion, and having with
deliberate intent
murthered Captain Wegg, got himself called by the
coroner to testify
that the victim died of heart disease. A very pretty
bit of
scoundrelism; eh, me dears?"
"But the robber--who do you think he was?" asked
Louise.
"That I've still to discover. You inform me that
Hucks is eager for
money and acts like a miser. I've seen the time I
was eager for money
meself, and there's not a miserly hair on me bald
head. But exceptions
prove the rule. I'll watch our smiling Thomas and
make a report later."
Within half an hour he was telling Hucks a funny
story and slapping the
old man upon the back as familiarly as if he had
known him for years. He
found an opportunity that same day to give Thomas a
dollar in return for
a slight service, and was amazed at the eagerness
with which the coin
was clutched and the earnestness of the thanks
expressed. It really did
seem as if the man was fond of money. But when the
Major tried to draw
Hucks into speaking of his past history and of
Captain Wegg's singular
life and death, the old fellow became reserved at
once and evaded the
inquiries most skillfully.
That night, as the Major strolled in the orchard to
smoke his last cigar
after all the others had retired to bed, he noticed
Hucks leave the back
door of the lean-to with a parcel under his arm and
pass hurriedly
around the barn. After a little hesitation he
decided to follow the man,
and crept stealthily along in the shadow of the
trees and buildings
until he found himself at the edge of the
berry-patch that was in the
rear of the outbuildings. But there he paused
irresolutely, for Thomas
had completely disappeared.
The Major was puzzled, but decided to watch for the
man's return. So he
took a position where he could watch the rear door
of the house and
smoked patiently for nearly an hour before Hucks
returned and let
himself quietly in.
He said nothing to the girls next day of this
mysterious proceeding, but
on the following night again took his station in the
orchard to watch.
Sure enough, as soon as the house was quiet the old
servant came out
with a bundle underneath his arm; but this time he
led his blind wife by
the other hand.
The Major gave a low whistle and threw away his
cigar. The night was so
dark that he had little difficulty in following the
aged pair closely
enough to keep their shadowy forms in sight, without
the risk of being
discovered. They passed around the barn and along a
path that led
through the raspberry bushes back of the yard. There
were several acres
of these bushes, and just now they were full-leaved
and almost shoulder
high. The path wound this way and that, and branched
in several
directions. Twice the Major thought he had lost his
quarry, but was
guided aright by their soft footfalls. The ground
dipped here and there,
and as they entered one of the hollows Major Doyle
was startled to
observe the twinkle of a dim light ahead. A minute
later he saw the
outlines of a little frame building, and within this
Old Hucks and Nora
presently disappeared.
AUNT JANE'S NIECES AT MILLVILLE
Continued....
 
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