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Petersen's mark, but that this deed had not been recorded until July 3, 1899, eleven years after the loss of the Geiser. The writer busied himself with finding some one who had known Mrs. Petersen, and by an odd coincidence discovered a woman living in the Bronx who had been an intimate friend and playmate of the little Petersen girl.
With the advent of the mild weather, Matty's stand had been removed out of doors and beneath the shelter of Johnny Petersen's shop; and this situation proved more profitable than it had been within, as many a charitable passer-by, seeing the pitiful figure and pinched face of the poor child, would stop to purchase.
In due course Charles A. Clark had appeared and had deeded the property to Keilly, who in turn had conveyed it to O'Rourke. Just who this mysterious O'Rourke was he could not explain, nor could he account in any satisfactory manner for the recording in 1899 of the deed signed with Mary Petersen's mark.
Billy looked once more all about his story-book home and then his eyes strayed away to Petersen's Woods, fairy green and already full of deep shadowed aisles, full of fretted beauty and solemnity. Beyond them lay the creek, a pool of silver draped in misty morning veils. "Gosh I wish to God I was religious!" suddenly, contritely murmured Billy Evans.
And when somebody reminded her of her belief that the world was flat and ended on the far side of Petersen's pasture she never argued the matter fiercely, as was her wont, but said instead that it had ended for her with Petersen's pasture until the day the new minister came.
Yust vait. You don't know how purty is Ponatah. She " Petersen's listeners waited. They are waiting yet, for the mail-man never completed his admiring recital of the Indian girl's charms, owing to the fact that the genial Mr. Hyde without warning tapped his late friend's round head with the leather butt of the dog-whip.
There was nothing to be moved from those they had occupied with their father and mother; not a splinter, not a shred, beyond the clothes they had on and those kept at Mrs. Petersen's, was left to them; indeed, had there been, we never should have allowed them to claim it, nor would Mrs. Petersen have allowed it to come into her tidy apartments.
He admitted knowing the Petersen family in a casual way, and said he had done some business for them, but stated that he had not heard of their tragic death until some years after the sinking of the Geiser. He had then ascertained that no one had appeared to lay claim to Mrs. Petersen's estate, and he had accordingly taken it upon himself to adveritse for heirs.
Had it not been for the Norseman's otter cap it is probable that a new mail-carrier would have taken the St. Michaels run. Petersen sat down upon his heels, and rested his forehead against the cool brass foot-rail; the subsequent proceedings interested him not at all. Those proceedings were varied and sudden, for the nearest and dearest of Petersen's friends rushed upon Mr. Hyde with a roar.
The old man had gone back to Johnny Petersen's just as the florist was closing his shop for the night, timing his second visit after the hour at which he knew the cripples would have left, and asked Johnny if he had any further information for him.
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