AUNT JANE'S NIECES AT MILLVILLE
BY
EDITH VAN DYNE (one of L. Frank Baum's pen names)
1908
Continued....
CHAPTER X.
THE MYSTERY DEEPENS.
Ethel Thompson came over the next day, as she had
promised, and the
sweet-faced, gentle school-mistress won the hearts
of Uncle John's three
nieces without an effort. She was the eldest of them
all, but her
retired country life had kept her fresh and natural,
and Ethel seemed no
more mature than the younger girls except in a
certain gravity that
early responsibility had thrust upon her.
Together the four laughing, light-hearted maids
wandered through the
pines, where the little school-ma'am showed them
many pretty nooks and
mossy banks that the others had not yet discovered.
By following an
unsuspected path, they cut across the wooded hills
to the waterfall,
where Little Bill Creek made a plunge of twenty feet
into a rocky basin
below. In spite of the bubbles, the water here
showed clear as crystal,
and the girls admiringly christened it the
"Champagne Cup." They shed
their shoes and stockings and waded in the pool,
enjoying the sport with
shrieks of merry laughter--more because they were
happy than that there
was anything to laugh at.
Afterward they traced the stream down to a lovely
glade a half mile
above Millville, where Ethel informed them the
annual Sunday-school
picnic was always held, and then trailed across the
rocky plateau to the
farm. By the time they reached home their appetites
were well sharpened
for Mary's excellent luncheon, and the afternoon was
devoted to rest
under the shady pines that grew beside the house.
It was now, when they felt thoroughly acquainted and
at ease in one
another's society, that the girls indulged in talks
concerning events in
their past, and Ethel was greatly interested in the
nieces' recital of
their recent trip abroad with Uncle John. They also
spoke frankly of
their old life together at Elmhurst, where Aunt
Jane, who was Uncle
John's sister, had congregated her three nieces for
the purpose of
choosing from among them one to inherit her vast
estates. It seemed no
source of regret to any of them that a boy, Kenneth
Forbes, had finally
succeeded to Aunt Jane's property, and this may be
explained by the fact
that Uncle John had at that interesting juncture
appeared to take charge
of the nieces. It was quite evident that the
eccentric but kindly old
fellow had succeeded in making these three girls as
happy as their
dispositions would allow them to be.
After the most interesting phases of their personal
history had been
discussed, the nieces began, perhaps unconsciously,
to draw from Ethel
her own story. It was simple enough, and derived its
interest mainly
from the fact that it concerned their new friend.
Her parents had both
passed away while she was young, and Ethel had
always lived with her
father's father, big Will Thompson, a man reputed
very well-to-do for
this section, and an energetic farmer from his
youth.
Old Will had always been accused of being unsociable
and considering
himself above the neighboring farmers; and it was
true that Bob West,
the implement dealer, was his only associate before
Captain Wegg
arrived. A casual acquaintance with the Millville
people might easily
explain this.
With the advent of the Weggs, however, a strong
friendship seemed to
spring up between the retired sea captain and the
bluff, erratic old
farmer, which lasted until the fatal day when one
died and the other
became a paralytic and a maniac.
"We have always thought," said Ethel, "that the
shock of the Captain's
death unsettled my grandfather's mind. They had been
sitting quietly in
Captain Wegg's room one evening, as they were
accustomed to do, when
there was a sudden fall and a cry. Thomas ran in at
once, and found
grandfather raving over the Captain's dead body. The
old seaman had
heart disease, it seems, and had often declared he
would die suddenly.
It was a great blow to us all, but especially to
Joe."
Her voice softened at this last remark, and Patsy
exclaimed,
impulsively:
"Tell us about Joe Wegg. Did you like him?"
"Yes," said Ethel, simply; "we were naturally thrown
much together in
our childhood, and became staunch friends. Grandpa
often took me with
him on his visits to the Weggs, and sometimes, but
not often, the
Captain would bring Joe to see us. He was a quiet,
thoughtful boy; much
like his mother, I imagine; but for some reason he
had conceived an
intense dislike for his father and an open hatred
for this part of the
country, where he was born. Aside from these morbid
notions, Joe was
healthy-minded and frank and genuine. Had he been
educated in any other
atmosphere than the gloomy one of the Wegg household
I am sure Joe's
character would have been wholly admirable, and I
have never blamed the
boy much for his peculiarities. Captain Wegg would
not permit him to go
to school, but himself attended to such instructions
as Joe could
acquire at home, and this was so meager and the boy
so ambitious that I
think it was one cause of his discontent. I
remember, when I was sent to
school at Troy, that Joe sobbed for days because he
could not have the
same advantages. He used to tell me wonderful
stories of what he would
accomplish if he could only get out into the world.
"When he implored his father to let him go away,
Captain Wegg used to
assure Joe that he would some day be rich, and there
was no need of his
preparing himself for either a business or a
profession; but that did
not satisfy Joe's ambition, as you may imagine. And,
when the end came,
scarcely a dollar of money could be found among the
Captain's
possessions, and no other property than this farm;
so it is evident he
deceived his son for some selfish purpose.
"Joe was at last free, and the only thing I reproach
him for is going
away without a word to me or any of his friends. I
heard, indirectly, of
his working his way through a technical school, for
he was always crazy
about mechanics, and then he went to New York and I
lost all further
trace of him."
"What do you suppose became of Captain Wegg's
money?" asked Louise.
"I've no idea. It is a singular thing that most of
my grandfather's
savings disappeared at the same time. On account of
his mental condition
he can never tell us what became of his little
fortune; but luckily the
returns from the farm, which we rent on shares, and
my own salary as
teacher of the district school, enable us to live
quite comfortably,
although we must be economical."
"Why, it's really a romance!" cried Patsy, who had
listened eagerly.
"There are many romances in real life," added Beth,
in her
undemonstrative way.
Louise said nothing, but her heart was throbbing
with excitement
engendered by the tale, which so strongly
corroborated the suspicions
she had begun to entertain. When Ethel had gone home
Louise still
deliberated upon this fascinating mystery, and her
resolve grew to force
some sort of an explanation from the smiling lips of
Old Hucks. For the
sole available witness of that fatal night's
tragedy, when one strong
man died and another was driven mad, was Thomas
Hucks. The old servitor
was also in a position to know much of the causes
leading up to the
catastrophe, he having been the confidential
retainer of Captain Wegg
for many years. Hucks must speak; but the girl was
wise enough to
realize that he would not do so unless urged by
coaxing or forced by
strategy. There was doubtless good reason why the
old man had remained
silent for three years. Her plan was to win his
confidence. Interest him
in Joe's welfare, and then the truth must come out.
The frankly related story of Ethel had supplied
Louise with the motive
for the crime, for that a crime had been committed
she was now doubly
sure. Captain Wegg had money; old Will Thompson had
money; both were
well-to-do men. In a retired country district, where
there were no
banks, it was reasonable to suppose they kept large
sums of money on
hand, and the knowledge of this fact had tempted
some one to a dreadful
deed. Captain Wegg had been killed and old Thompson
perhaps injured by a
blow upon the head from which he had never
recovered. Any suspicion the
fair young detective may have entertained that
Thompson himself had
killed his friend was eradicated by the fact that he
had been robbed at
the same time.
Louise had originally undertaken her investigation
through curiosity and
a desire to amuse herself by unveiling the mystery.
Now she began to
reflect that she was an instrument of justice, for a
discovery of the
truth might restore a fortune to poor Joe Wegg, now
struggling with the
world, and put sweet Ethel Thompson in a position
where the necessity
for her to teach school would be abolished. This
thought added a strong
impulse to her determination to succeed.
Sunday afternoon the girl took blind Nora for a long
drive through the
country, taking pains to explain to her all the
points of interest they
came to, and delighting the old woman with her
bright chatter. Louise
had been kind to Nora from the beginning, and her
soft, sympathetic
voice had quite won the poor creature's heart.
On the way home, in the delightful summer twilight,
the girl dexterously
led the conversation toward Nora's past history.
"Was Thomas a sailor when you married him?" she
asked.
"Yes, miss. He were bos'n on Cap'n Wegg's schooner
the 'Lively Kate,'
an' I were livin' with Miss Mary, as come to be Mrs.
Wegg arterward."
"Oh, I see. And were you blind then, Nora?"
"No, miss. I went blind arter our great trouble come
to us."
"Trouble? Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. What was it?"
The old woman was silent for a time. Then she said:
"I'd better not mention it, I guess. Thomas likes to
forgit, an' when I
gets cryin' an' nervous he knows I've been thinkin'
'bout the
old trouble."
Louise was disappointed, but changed the subject
adroitly.
"And Miss Mary, who was afterward Mrs. Wegg. Did you
love her, Nora?"
"Indeed I did, child."
"What was she like?"
"She were gentle, an' sweet, an' the mos' beautiful
creetur in
all--in--in the place where we lived. An' her
fambily was that proud an'
aristocratic thet no one could tech 'em with a
ten-foot pole."
"I see. Did she love Captain Wegg?"
"Nat'rally, sense she married of him, an' fit all
her fambily to do it.
An' the Cap'n were thet proud o' her thet he thought
the world lay in
her sweet eyes."
"Oh. I had an idea he didn't treat her well,"
remarked the girl,
soberly.
"That's wrong," declared Nora, promptly. "Arter the
trouble come--fer it
come to the Weggs as well as to Tom an' me--the
Cap'n sort o' lost heart
to see his Mary cry day arter day an' never be
comforted. He were hard
hit himself, ye see, an' that made it a gloomy
house, an' no mistake."
"Do you mean after you moved here, to the farm?"
"Yes, deary."
"I hear Captain Wegg was very fond of Ethel's
grandfather," continued
Louise, trying to find an opening to penetrate old
Nora's reserve.
"They was good friends always," was the brief reply.
"Did they ever quarrel, Nora?"
"Never that I knows of."
"And what do you suppose became of their money?"
asked the girl.
"I don't know, child. Air we gettin' near home?"
"We are quite near, now. I wish you would open your
heart to me, and
tell me about that great trouble, Nora. I might be
able to comfort you
in some way."
The blind woman shook her head.
"There's no comfort but in forgettin'," she said;
"an' the way to forgit
ain't to talk about it."
The unsatisfactory result of this conversation did
not discourage
Louise, although she was sorry to meet with no
better success. Gradually
she was learning the inside history of the Weggs.
When she discovered
what that "great trouble" had been she would secure
an important clue in
the mystery, she was sure. Nora might some time be
induced to speak more
freely, and it was possible she might get the
desired information from
Old Hucks. She would try, anyway.
A dozen theories might be constructed to account for
this "great
trouble." The one that Louise finally favored was
that Captain Wegg had
been guilty of some crime on the high seas in which
his boatswain, Old
Hucks, was likewise implicated. They were obliged to
abandon the sea and
fly to some out-of-the-way corner inland, where they
could be safely
hidden and their whereabouts never discovered. It
was the knowledge of
this crime, she conjectured, that had ruined sweet
Mrs. Wegg's life and
made her weep day after day until her guilty husband
became surly and
silent and unsociable.
Louise now began to cultivate Thomas, but her
progress was slow. Patsy
seemed to be the old man's favorite, and for some
reason he became glum
and uncommunicative whenever Louise was around. The
girl suspected that
Nora had told her husband of the recent
conversation, in spite of her
assertion that she wished to avoid all reference to
their great trouble.
AUNT JANE'S NIECES AT MILLVILLE
Continued....
 
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