Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville
Therefore the triple alliance for
detective purposes was a strong one.
By mutual agreement they kept the matter secret from Uncle John, for
they realized what a triumph it would be to surprise the old gentleman
with proofs of their cleverness. To confide in him now would mean to
invite no end of ridicule or good natured raillery, for Uncle John had
not a grain of imagination or romance in his nature and would be unable
to comprehend the delights of this secret investigation.
Because he was in the dark the significant looks and unnatural gravity
of his nieces in the succeeding days puzzled the poor man greatly.
"What's wrong, girls?" he would ask. "Aren't you happy here? Do you miss
anything you'd like? Is it too quiet and dull at Millville to suit you?"
"Oh, no!" they would exclaim. "We are having a splendid time, and would
not leave the farm for anything."
And he often noticed them grouped in isolated places and conversing in
low, eager tones that proved "something was up." He felt somewhat
grieved that he was not their confidant, since these girls and their
loyal affection for him constituted the chief joy of his life. When he
put on his regulation fishing costume and carried his expensive rod and
reel, his landing net and creel to the brook for a day's sport, he could
no longer induce one of his girls to accompany him. Even Patsy pleaded
laughingly that she had certain "fish to fry" that were not to be found
in the brook.
Soon the three nieces made their proposed visit to McNutt, their idea
being to pump that individual until he was dry of any information he
might possess concerning the Wegg mystery. They tramped over to the
village after breakfast one morning and found the agent seated on the
porch before his little "office," by which name the front room of his
cottage was dignified. He was dressed in faded overalls, a checked shirt
and a broad-brimmed cheap straw hat. His "off foot," as he called it
with grim humor, was painted green and his other foot was bare and might
have been improved in color.
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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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