Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville
"
"He likes you, dear," added Beth, "and perhaps he will tell you frankly
all we want to know. There's another person, though, Louise, who might
tell us something."
"Who is that?"
"The little man with the golf-ball eyes; McNutt."
"Now, there's some sense in suspecting him," exclaimed Patsy. "We know
he's a robber, already, and a man who is clever enough to sell Uncle
John three 'Lives of the Saints' would stick at nothing, I'm sure."
"He hasn't enough courage to commit a great crime," observed Beth.
"But he may be able to give us some information," Louise asserted; "so I
propose we walk over to the town tomorrow morning and interview him."
This was promptly agreed to, for even Patsy, the least enthusiastic
detective of the three, was eager to find some sort of a solution of the
Wegg mystery. Meantime they decided to watch Old Hucks very carefully.
Beth happened to be present when Uncle John paid Thomas his weekly wage
that evening, and was interested to notice how the old man's hand
trembled with eagerness as he took the money.
"How much are you accustomed to receive?" Uncle John had asked.
"Nothing 'tall, sir, since Cap'n Wegg died," was the reply. "We was glad
enough to have a home, Nora an' me, 'thout 'spectin' wages."
"And there was no one here for you to serve," mused Uncle John. "But in
Captain Wegg's day, how much did he give you?"
Thomas hesitated, and his smile wavered an instant.
"My old master was also my old friend," said he, in a low voice; "an' I
ast him fer little money because my needs were little."
"Well, the conditions are now different," remarked Uncle John,
carelessly; "and while you are in my employ you shall have your wages
regularly. Will ten dollars a week be satisfactory?"
"Oh, sir!"
"And five for Nora."
"You are too good, sir. I--I--"
"Never mind, Thomas. If you want more at any time let me know."
It was then, as the old man took the fifteen dollars extended to him,
that Beth noted a flash in the mild blue eyes and a trembling of the
horny hands.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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