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Updated: May 16, 2025
When they disappeared in the grove he locked the door of his establishment and sauntered in the direction of the Pearson farm, no one noticing him except Peggy McNutt, who was disappointed because he had intended to go over presently and buy a paper of tacks.
"I'm sure we'd all be better off if we had a few real bloods here to squander their substance." "Well, here's a perposal to squander, all right," said McNutt. "But the question is, Does he know what he's runnin' up agin', and what it'll cost to do all the idiotic things as he says?" "Prob'ly not," answered the storekeeper.
"Oh, it were Brayley's, all right," McNutt retorted. "I could tell by the second-class taste o' them mellings, an' their measley little size. Them things ain't a circumstance to the kind I raise." "Are you sure?" asked Louise. "Sure's shootln'. Guess I'm a jedge o' mellings, when I sees 'em." "No one could see tonight," said Beth. "Feelin's jest the same," declared the little man, confidently.
Only I have to be in El Placida to draw my pay." "But you made good, did you?" I asks. "I did as long as Senor Alvarado was around to back me up," says Amby, "but when he slides down to the city for a week's business trip and turns me over to that Scotch superintendent of his the going got kind of rough. Mr. McNutt sends me out with a flivver to buy wool around the country. Looked easy.
As he had said, the Weggs had formed the chief topic of conversation in Millville for years, and no one had a more vivid interest in their history than Marshall McMahon McNutt. He enjoyed gossiping about the Weggs almost as much as he did selling books. "I never thought I had no call to stick my nose inter other folkses privit doin's," he said, after a few puffs at the corncob pipe.
"It'll serve him right," said Peggy, delightedly. "Ol' Dan called me a meddler onc't in public an' I'm bound t' git even with him." "Don't betray us, sir," pleaded Beth. "I can't," replied McNutt, frankly; "I'm in it myself, an' we'll jest find out what his blame-twisted ol' fifteen-cent mellings is like."
"I've had a heap o' fun," whispered McNutt. "Good night, gals. Ef ye didn't belong to thet gum-twisted nabob, ye'd be some pun'kins." "Thank you, Mr. McNutt. Good night." And it was not until well on their journey to the farm that the girls finally dared to abandon further restraint. Then, indeed, they made the grim, black hills of the plateau resound to the peals of their merry laughter.
"And your people have all done work of an unusual character in a painstaking manner. I am very much pleased. There seems to be a hundred and forty dollars my due, remaining from the five hundred I sent you." "Here it is, sir," responded McNutt, taking the money from his pocket-book. In another place he had more money, which he had intended to pay if the smaller bill had been presented.
"From our present knowledge the murder lies between the unknown avenger and Hucks, with the possibility that McNutt is implicated. This avenger may be the stranger who posed as a physician and said Captain Wegg died of heart disease, in order to prevent the simple people from suspecting a murder. His fishing was all a blind. Perhaps McNutt was his accomplice.
"Oh, you do yourself an injustice, I am sure, but you do it gracefully. We shall meet often, of course. Mr. Witherspoon," he added, addressing the head of the Colossus, "we have just arrested that Mrs. McNutt." "How's that? What Mrs. McNutt?" "Why, the woman who was suspected of shop-lifting. This time we caught her in the act." "Ah, hah. Have you sent her away?" "Not yet.
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