- You have recently read
- Clean
Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville
"It'll cost a heap o' money, Sam," said McNutt, uneasily, while Uncle
John was engaged in his remarkable conversation. They could see him in
the booth, through the little window.
"It will, Mac," was the solemn reply. "But the fool nabob may as well
spend it thet way as any other. It's mighty little of his capital er
surplus gits inter _my_ cash-drawer; 'n' thet's a fact."
Uncle John came from the booth, perspiring, but smiling and happy. He
walked across the street to see Joe Wegg, and found the youth seated in
a rocking-chair and looking quite convalescent. But he had company. In a
chair opposite sat a man neatly dressed, with a thin, intelligent face,
a stubby gray moustache, and shrewd eyes covered by horn-rimmed
spectacles.
"Good morning, Mr. Merrick," said Joe, cheerily; "this is Mr. Robert
West, one of the Millville merchants, who is an old friend of
our family."
"I've heard of Mr. West, and I'm glad to meet him," replied Uncle John,
looking at the other calmly, but not offering to shake hands. "I believe
you are the president and treasurer of the Almaquo Timber Tract Company,
are you not?"
Joseph looked startled, and then embarrassed, as he overheard the
question. West, without altering his position of careless ease, glanced
over the rims of his glasses at the speaker.
"I am the humble individual you refer to, Mr. Merrick," he said,
briefly.
"But the Almaquo timber all burned down." remarked Joe, thinking an
explanation was needed.
"That's a mistake," returned Mr. Merrick. "My company has paid Mr. West,
as treasurer of his company, more than fifty thousand dollars during the
last three years."
West's jaw dropped.
"Your company!" he exclaimed, as if mystified.
"Yes; I own the controlling interest in the Pierce-Lane Lumber Company,
which has the contract to cut your timber," answered Mr. Merrick.
The hardware dealer slowly arose and glanced at his watch.
"I must get back to my store," he said. "You are somewhat in error about
your company, Mr. Merrick; but I suppose your interests are so large and
varied that you cannot well keep track of them.
- Page:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
In a village there lived two men who had the self-same name. Both were named Claus. But one of them owned four horses, and the other owned only one horse; so to distinguish between them people called the man who had four horses Big Claus, and the man who had only one horse Little Claus. Now I'll tell you what happened to these two, for this is a true story.
© 2013-2019 FairyTales
Almost all texts on this website are from the Public Domain.