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Updated: May 14, 2025
I had hardly time as I passed to note the large hall, the handsome staircase, and the wide parlors that hung rich with drapery, but in darkness. I was led beyond and behind them, and in a moment was ushered into a small, plainly-furnished room; and at a desk covered with papers sat Doddridge Knapp, the picture of the Wolf in his den.
Knapp shrugged his shoulders. He was very well satisfied with himself. "Then give me a chance," prayed Sweetwater. "Mr. Fenton," he urged more earnestly, "I am not the fool you take me for.
By yielding to his instinct as a born showman he excites a curiosity which would otherwise be unjustifiable. Even if Dr. Knapp had been able to approach Borrow’s stepdaughter—which he seems not to have been able to do—it is pretty certain that she could have told him nothing of that mysterious seven years.
"And the iron cow?" I asked. "Stupid! a pump, of course," replied Mrs. Knapp with another laugh. "Now see if there is a lane here by the barn." A narrow roadway, just wide enough for a single wagon, joined the main road at the corner of the building. "Then drive up it quietly," was Mrs. Knapp's direction.
But suppose that we admit that he did not then tell all he knew, this does not affect the fact at all; because he did tell, at the time, in the hearing of others, that the person he saw was Frank Knapp. There is not the slightest suggestion against the veracity or accuracy of Mrs. Southwick.
On she came, panting and nearly exhausted, and at the right moment down came the club with great force upon the small of her back. "If a fly had alighted upon her," said Mr. Knapp, "I think she would have paid just as much attention to it as she did to me."
Brown and Barkhouse were to attend me during daylight, and Fitzhugh and Porter were to guard together at night. And, so much settled, I hastened to the office. No sign of Doddridge Knapp disturbed the morning, and at the noon hour I returned to the room in the house of mystery that was still my only fixed abode. All was apparently as I had left it, except that a letter lay on the table.
"I think if you would tell me who the boy is, and why the danger threatens him, I might help you more wisely." "Perhaps you are right," said Mrs. Knapp thoughtfully. "You shall know before it is necessary to make our next plans." And then the boy called for her attention and I returned to the deck. The light of the morning was growing. Vessels were moving.
As she finished speaking there came a loud knock at the door. A very unusual sound this, for no one had yet called on them, except Mr. Knapp, once on business. "I'll go," said Mrs. Driscoll. "Wipe your eyes, Alma." To her surprise, when she opened the door no one was there. Something white on the step caught her eye in the gloom.
"Send me a list, and group them, as, for instance: presidents and vice-presidents, famous soldiers, actors, authors, etc." "And thus," says Mr. Knapp, as he tells the tale today, "I gave Edward Bok his first literary commission, and started him off on his literary career." And it is true.
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