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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Of course not," agreed Beth. "Old Hucks is a curious character. I realized that when I had known him five minutes." "But he's poor," urged Patsy, in defense of the old man. "He hasn't a penny in the world, and McNutt told me if we turned Thomas and Nora away they'd have to go to the poorhouse." "That is no argument at all," said Louise, calmly.
It's morbid that's what I call it morbid, just to dream of such a thing." "There's Bertha," he quavered. "Great Scott, and who's Bertha?" "The girl my mother chose for me two years ago Bertha McNutt, you know. She'd really prefer me not to marry at all, but if I must it's Bertha, Westoby Bertha or nothing!" "It's too late to say that now, old fellow"
"One is McNutt's absurd indignation when he thought we hinted that he was the murderer." "What do you make of that?" queried Patsy. "It suggests that he knows something of the murder, even if he is himself wholly innocent. His alibi is another absurdity." "Then that exonerated Old Hucks," said Patsy, relieved. "Oh, not at all. Hucks may have committed the deed and McNutt knows about it.
"Instead of 'Marshall McMahon McNutt, dealer in Real Estate an' Spring Chickens, I want to make it read: 'dealer in Real Estate, Spring Chickens an' Poetry. What'll it cost. Miss Patsy?" "Nothing," she said, her eyes dancing; "We'll do that job free of charge, Peggy!" Two strange men appeared in Millville keen, intelligent looking fellows and applied to Joe Wegg for jobs.
Peggy McNutt was still bothering his head over schemes to fleece the strangers, in blissful ignorance of the fact that one of his neighbors was planning to get ahead of him. The Widow Clark was a shrewd woman. She had proven this by becoming one of the merchants of Millville after her husband's death.
They had thought inducing the agent to rob his own patch of a few melons, while under the delusion that they belonged to his enemy Brayley, a bit of harmless fun; but here was the vindictive fellow actually destroying his own property by the wholesale. "Oh, don't! Please don't, Mr. McNutt!" pleaded Patsy, in frightened accents. "Yes, I will," declared the agent, stubbornly.
McNutt hitched uneasily from the wooden foot to the good one. "How's ol' Will?" he enquired, in a low voice. "Grandfather's about as usual," replied the girl, with trained composure. "Still crazy as a bedbug?" "At times he becomes a bit violent; but those attacks never last long." "Don't s'pose I could see him?" ventured the agent, still in hesitating tones.
Merrick," advised West, gravely. "When the owner comes he will need servants, and Hucks is a very capable old fellow. Let that problem rest until the time comes for solution. If the old folks are to be turned out, make John Merrick do it; it will put the responsibility on his shoulders." "By dum, yer right, Bob!" exclaimed McNutt. slapping the counter with his usual impulsiveness.
"Ef ye could wait a few days," he began, hopefully, "I might " "Oh, no; we can't possibly wait a single minute," declared Patsy. "Unless Uncle can get the Saints right away he will lose interest in the collection, and then he won't care for them at all." McNutt sighed dismally. Here was a chance to make good money by fleecing the lambs, yet he was absolutely unable to take advantage of it.
Not Ol' Hucks, fer he's too honest, an' hasn't showed the color of a nickel sense. Not Joe; 'cause he had to borrer five dollars of Bob West to git to the city with. Who then?" "Perhaps," said Louise, slowly, "some burglar did it." "Ain't no burglers 'round these parts." "I suppose not. Only book agents," remarked Beth. McNutt flushed. "Do ye mean as I did it?" he demanded, angrily.
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