"Do you know, I feel that some angel of
retribution has guided us to this lonely farmhouse and put the idea into
my head to discover and expose a dreadful crime."
"Succotash!" cried Patsy, irrelevantly. "You're romancing this minute,
Louise. The way you figure things out I wouldn't be surprised if you
accused me, or Uncle John, any time during the next half hour. Adopting
your last supposition, for the sake of argument, I'm interested to know
what inhabitant of sleepy old Millville you suspect."
"Don't get flighty, Patricia," admonished Beth. "This is a serious
matter, and Louise is in earnest. If we're going to help her we mustn't
talk rubbish. Now, it isn't a bad suggestion that we ought to look
nearer home for the key to this mystery. There's old Hucks."
"Hucks!"
"To be sure. No one knew so well as he the money affairs of the two men
who were robbed."
"I'm ashamed of you," said Patsy.
"And the man's smile is a mask!" exclaimed Louise.
"Oh, no!" protested Patsy.
"My dear, no person who ever lived could smile every minute, winter and
summer, rain or shine, day and night, and always have a reason for
the smile."
"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.
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