In some ways McNutt was a genius. He did not neglect opportunities.
"Here's my las' chance at these idjits," he muttered, "an' I'll learn
thet nabob what it costs, to make Marsh McNutt stand out'n his light."
Then he hastened over to the hammock.
"'Scuse me, miss," said he, in his most ingratiating voice. "Is yer
uncle 'round anywheres?"
"Isn't he in the barn?" asked the girl, looking up.
"Can't find him, high ner low. But he ordered a book of me t'other
day--'Radford's Lives o' the Saints'--an' perhaps you'll take it an' pay
me the money, so's I kin go home."
Louise gazed at the man musingly. He was one of the people she intended
to pump for information concerning the mystery of Captain Wegg, and she
must be gracious to him in order to win his good-will and induce him to
speak freely. With this thought in mind she drew out her purse
and asked:
"How much were you to be paid for the book?"
"Three dollars, miss."
"Here is the money, then. Tell me--your name is McNutt, isn't it?--how
long have you lived in this place?"
"All my life, miss. Thank 'e, miss. Good day to ye, miss."
He placed the book in the hammock beside her.
"Don't go, please." said the girl. "I'd like you to tell me something
about Captain Wegg, and of his poor wife who died, and--"
"Nuther time, miss, I'll be glad to.
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