by Myrtle Reed
XV
Treasure-Trove
The August moon swung high in the heavens, and the crickets chirpedunbearably. The luminous dew lay heavily upon the surrounding fields, andnow and then a stray breeze, amid the overhanging branches of the treesthat lined the roadway, aroused in the consciousness of the singlewayfarer a feeling closely akin to panic. When he reached the summit ofthe hill, he was trembling violently.
In the dooryard of the Jack-o'-Lantern, he paused. It was dark, save for asingle round window. In an upper front room a night-lamp, turned low, gaveone leering eye to the grotesque exterior of the house.
With his heart thumping loudly, Mr. Bradford leaned against a tree anddivested himself of his shoes. From a package under his arm, he took out apair of soft felt slippers, the paper rattling loudly as he did so. He putthem on, hesitated, then went cautiously up the walk.
"In all my seventy-eight years," he thought, "I have never done anythinglike this. If I had not promised the Colonel--but a promise to a dying manis sacred, especially when he is one's best friend."
The sound of the key in the lock seemed almost like an explosion ofdynamite. Mr. Bradford wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead,turned the door slowly upon its squeaky hinges, and went in, feeling likea burglar.
"I am not a burglar," he thought, his hands shaking. "I have come to give,not to take away."
Fearfully, he tiptoed into the parlour, expecting at any moment to arousethe house. Feeling his way carefully along the wall, and guided by themoonlight which streamed in at the side windows, he came to the wingoccupied by Mrs. Holmes and her exuberant offspring. Here he stooped,awkwardly, and slipped a sealed and addressed letter under the door,heaving a sigh of relief as he got away without having wakened any one.
The sounds which came from Mrs. Dodd's room were reassuringly suggestiveof sleep. Hastily, he slipped another letter under her door, then made hisway cautiously to the kitchen. The missive intended for Mrs. Smithers wasleft on the door-mat outside, for, as Mr. Bradford well knew, the ears ofthe handmaiden were uncomfortably keen.
At the foot of the stairs he hesitated again, but by the time he reachedthe top, his heart had ceased to beat audibly. He tiptoed down thecorridor to Uncle Israel's room, then, further on, to Dick's. The letterintended for Mr. Perkins was slipped under Elaine's door, Mr. Bradford notbeing aware that the poet had changed his room. Having safely accomplishedhis last errand, the tension relaxed, and he went downstairs with moreassurance, his pace being unduly hastened by a subdued howl from one ofthe twins.
Bidding himself be calm, he got to the front door, and drew a long breathof relief as he closed it noiselessly. There was a light in Mrs. Holmes'sroom now, and Mr. Bradford did not wish to linger. He gathered up hisshoes and fairly ran downhill, arriving at his office much shaken in mindand body, nearly two hours after he had started.
"I do not know," he said to himself, "why the Colonel should have been soparticular as to dates and hours, but he knew his own business best."Then, further in accordance with his instructions, he burned a number ofletters which could not be delivered personally.
If Mr. Bradford could have seen the company which met at the breakfasttable the following morning, he would have been amply repaid for hissupreme effort of the night before, had he been blessed with any sense ofhumour at all. The Carrs were untroubled, and Elaine appeared as usual,except for her haughty indifference to Mr. Perkins. She thought he hadwritten a letter to himself and slipped it under her door, in order tocompel her to speak to him, but she had tactfully avoided that difficultyby leaving it on his own threshold. Dick's eyes were dancing and atintervals his mirth bubbled over, needlessly, as every one else appearedto think.
"I doesn't know wot folks finds to laugh at," remarked Mrs. Smithers, asshe brought in the coffee; "that's wot I doesn't. It's a solemn time, Itake it, when the sheeted spectres of the dead walks abroad by night,that's wot it is. It's time for folks to be thinkin' about their immortalsouls."
This enigmatical utterance produced a startling effect. Mr. Perkins turneda pale green and hastily excused himself, his breakfast wholly untouched.Mrs. Holmes dropped her fork and recovered it in evident confusion. Mrs.Dodd's face was a bright scarlet and appeared about to burst, but she kepther lips compressed into a thin, tight line. Uncle Israel nodded over hispredigested food. "Just so," he mumbled; "a solemn time."
Eagerly watching for an opportunity, Mrs. Holmes dived into the barn, andemerged, cautiously, with the spade concealed under her skirts. Shecarried it into her own apartment and hid it under Willie's bed. Mrs.Smithers went to look for it a little later, and, discovering that it wasunaccountably missing, excavated her own private spade from beneath thehay. During the afternoon, the poet was observed lashing the fire-shovelto the other end of a decrepit rake. Uncle Israel, after a fruitlesssearch of the premises, actually went to town and came back with a bulkyand awkward parcel, which he hid in the shrubbery.
Meanwhile, Willie had gone whimpering to Mrs. Dodd, who was in serioustrouble of her own. "I'm afraid," he admitted, when closely questioned.
"Afraid of what?" demanded his counsellor, sharply.
"I'm afraid of ma," sobbed Willie. "She's a-goin' to bury me. She's gotthe spade hid under my bed now."
Sudden emotion completely changed Mrs. Dodd's countenance. "There, there,Willie," she said, stroking him kindly. "Where is your ma?"
"She's out in the orchard with Ebbie and Rebbie."
"Well now, deary, don't you say nothin' at all to your ma, an' we'll foolher. The idea of buryin' a nice little boy like you! You just go an' getme that spade an' I'll hide it in my room. Then, when your ma asks for it,you don't know nothin' about it. See?"
Willie's troubled face brightened, and presently the implement was underMrs. Dodd's own bed, and her door locked. Much relieved in his mind andcherishing kindly sentiments toward his benefactor, Willie slid down thebanisters, unrebuked, the rest of the afternoon.
Meanwhile Mrs. Dodd sat on the porch and meditated. "I'd never havethought," she said to herself, "that Ebeneezer would intend that Holmeswoman to have any of it, but you never can tell what folks'll do whentheir minds gets to failin' at the end. Ebeneezer's mind must have faileddretful, for I know he didn't make no promise to her, same as he did tome, an' if she don't suspect nothin', what did she go an' get the spadefor? Dretful likely hand it is, for spirit writin'."
Looking about furtively to make sure that she was not observed, Mrs. Dodddrew out of the mysterious recesses of her garments, the crumpledcommunication of the night before. It was dated, "Heaven, August 12th,"and the penmanship was Uncle Ebeneezer's to the life.
"Dear Belinda," it read. "I find myself at the last moment obliged tochange my plans. If you will go to the orchard at exactly twelve o'clockon the night of August 13th, you will find there what you seek. Gostraight ahead to the ninth row of apple trees, then seven trees to theleft. A cat's skull hangs from the lower branch, if it hasn't blown downor been taken away. Dig here and you will find a tin box containing what Ihave always meant you to have.
"I charge you by all you hold sacred to obey these directions in everyparticular, and unless you want to lose it all, to say nothing about it toany one who may be in the house.
"I am sorry to put you to this inconvenience, but the limitations of thespirit world cannot well be explained to mortals. I hope you will make awise use of the money and not spend it all on clothes, as women are apt todo.
"In conclusion, let me say that I am very happy in heaven, though it isconsiderably more quiet than any place I ever lived in before. I have meta great many friends here, but no relatives except my wife. Farewell, as Ishall probably never see you again.
"Yours,
"Ebeneezer Judson.
"P.S. All of your previous husbands are here, in the sunny section setaside for martyrs. None of them give you a good reputation.
"E. J."
"Don't it beat all," muttered Mrs. Dodd to herself, excitedly. "Here wasEbeneezer at my door last night, an' I never knowed it. Sakes alive, if Ihad knowed it, I wouldn't have slep' like I did. Here comes that Holmeshussy. Wonder what she knows!"
"Do you believe in spirits, Mrs. Dodd?" inquired Mrs. Holmes, in acareless tone that did not deceive her listener.
"Depends," returned the other, with an evident distaste for the subject.
"Do you believe spirits can walk?"
"I ain't never seen no spirits walk, but I've seen folks try to walk thatwas full of spirits, and there wa'n't no visible improvement in theirsteppin'." This was a pleasant allusion to the departed Mr. Holmes, whowas currently said to have "drunk hisself to death."
A scarlet flush, which mounted to the roots of Mrs. Holmes's hair,indicated that the shot had told, and Mrs. Dodd went to her own room,where she carefully locked herself in. She was determined to sit upon herprecious spade until midnight, if it were necessary, to keep it.
Mrs. Smithers was sitting up in bed with the cold perspiration oozing fromevery pore, when the kitchen clock struck twelve sharp, quick strokes. Theother clocks in the house took up the echo and made merry with it. Thegrandfather's clock in the hall was the last to strike, and the twelvedeep-toned notes boomed a solemn warning which, to more than one quakinglistener, bore a strong suggestion of another world--an uncanny world atthat.
"Guess I'll go along," said Dick to himself, yawning and stretching. "Imight just as well see the fun."
Mrs. Smithers, with her private spade and her odorous lantern, was at thespot first, closely seconded by Mrs. Dodd, in a voluminous garment of redflannel which had seen all of its best days and not a few of its worst.Trembling from head to foot, came Mrs. Holmes, carrying a pair of shears,which she had snatched up at the last moment when she discovered the spadewas missing. Mr. Perkins, fully garbed, appeared with his improvisedshovel. Uncle Israel, in his piebald dressing-gown, tottered along in therear, bearing his spade, still unwrapped, his bedroom candle, and a box ofmatches. Dick surveyed the scene from a safe, shadowy distance, and on abranch near the skull, Claudius Tiberius was stretched at full length,purring with a loud, resonant purr which could be heard from afar.
After the first shock of surprise, which was especially keen on the partof Mrs. Dodd, when she saw Uncle Israel in the company, Mrs. Smithersbroke the silence.
"It's nothink more nor a wild-goose chase," she said, resentfully."A-gettin' us all out'n our beds at this time o' night! It's a sufferin'and dyin' shame, that's wot it is, and if sperrits was like other folks,'t wouldn't 'ave happened."
"Sarah," said Mrs. Dodd, firmly, "keep your mouth shut. Israel, will youdig?"
"We'll all dig," said Mrs. Holmes, in the voice of authority, andthereafter the dirt flew briskly enough, accompanied by the labouredbreathing of perspiring humanity.
It was Uncle Israel's spade that first touched the box, and, with a cry ofdelight, he stooped for it, as did everybody else. By sheer force ofmuscle, Mrs. Dodd got it away from him.
"This wrangle," sighed Mr. Perkins, "is both unseemly and sordid. Let usall agree to abide by dear Uncle Ebeneezer's last bequests."
"There won't be no desire not to abide by 'em," snorted Mrs. Smithers,"wot with cats as can't stay buried and sheeted spectres of the deada-walkin' through the house by night!"
By this time, Mrs. Dodd had the box open, and a cry of astonishment brokefrom her lips. Several heads were badly bumped in the effort to peep intothe box, and an unprotected sneeze from Uncle Israel added to the generalunpleasantness.
"You can all go away," cried Mrs. Dodd, shrilly. "There's two one-dollarbills here, two quarters, an' two nickels an' eight pennies. 'T aintnothin' to be fit over."
"But the letter," suggested Mr. Perkins, hopefully. "Is there not a letterfrom dear Uncle Ebeneezer? Let us gather around the box in a reverentspirit and listen to dear Uncle Ebeneezer's last words."
"You can read 'em," snapped Mrs. Holmes, "if you're set on hearing."
Uncle Israel wheezed so loudly that for the moment he drowned the deeppurr of Claudius Tiberius. When quiet was restored, Mr. Perkins broke theseal of the envelope and unfolded the communication within. Uncle Israelheld the dripping candle on one side and Mrs. Smithers the smoking lanternon the other, while near by, Dick watched the midnight assembly with anunholy glee which, in spite of his efforts, nearly became audible.
"How beautiful," said Mr. Perkins, "to think that dear Uncle Ebeneezer'slast words should be given to us in this unexpected but original way."
"Shut up," said Mrs. Smithers, emphatically, "and read them last words.I'm gettin' the pneumony now, that's wot I am."
"You're the only one," chirped Mrs. Dodd, hysterically. "The money in thishere box is all old." It was, indeed. Mr. Judson seemed to have purposelychosen ragged bills and coins worn smooth.
"'Dear Relations,'" began Mr. Perkins. "'As every one of you have at onetime or another routed me out of bed to let you in when you have come tomy house on the night train, and always uninvited----'"
"I never did," interrupted Mrs. Holmes. "I always came in the daytime."
"Nobody ain't come at night," explained Mrs. Smithers, "since 'e fixed the'ouse over into a face. One female fainted dead away when 'er started upthe hill and see it a-winkin' at 'er, yes sir, that's wot 'er did!"
"'It seems only fitting and appropriate,'" continued Mr. Perkins, "'thatyou should all see how it seems.'" The poet wiped his massive brow withhis soiled handkerchief. "Dear uncle!" he commented.
"Yes," wheezed Uncle Israel, "'dear uncle!' Damn his stingy old soul," headded, with uncalled-for emphasis.
"It gives me pleasure to explain in this fashion my disposal of myestate," the reader went on, huskily.
"Of all the connection on both sides, there is only one that has neverbeen to see me, unless I've forgotten some, and that is my beloved nephew,James Harlan Carr."
"Him," creaked Uncle Israel. "Him, as never see Ebeneezer."
"He has never," continued the poet, with difficulty, "rung my door bell atnight, nor eaten me out of house and home, nor written begging letters--"this phrase was well-nigh inaudible--"nor had fits on me----"
Here there was a pause and all eyes were fastened upon Uncle Israel.
"'T wa'n't a fit!" he screamed. "It was a involuntary spasm brought on bytakin' two searchin' medicines too near together. 'T wa'n't a fit!"
"Nor children----"
"The idea!" snapped Mrs. Holmes. "Poor little Ebbie and Rebbie had to beborn somewhere."
"Nor paralysis----"
"That was Cousin Si Martin," said Mrs. Dodd, half to herself. "He was tookbad with it in the night."
"He has never come to spend Christmas with me and remained until theensuing dog days, nor sent me a crayon portrait of himself"--Mr. Perkinsfaltered here, but nobly went on--"nor had typhoid fever, nor finished uphis tuberculosis, nor cut teeth, nor set the house on fire with a bathcabinet----"
At this juncture Uncle Israel was so overcome with violent emotion that itwas some time before the reading could proceed.
"Never having come into any kind of relations with my dear nephew, JamesHarlan Carr," continued Mr. Perkins, in troubled tones, "I have shown mygratitude in this humble way. To him I give the house and all myfurniture, my books and personal effects of every kind, my farm in HillCounty, two thousand acres, all improved and clear of incumbrance, exceptblooded stock,----"
"I never knowed 'e 'ad no farm," interrupted Mrs. Smithers.
"And the ten thousand and eighty-four dollars in the City Bank which atthis writing is there to my credit, but will be duly transferred, and mydear Rebecca's diamond pin to be given to my beloved nephew's wife when hemarries. It is all in my will, which my dear friend Jeremiah Bradford has,and which he will read at the proper time to those concerned."
"The old snake!" shrieked Mrs. Holmes.
"Further," went on the poet, almost past speech by this time, "I directthat the rema
inder of my estate, which is here in this box, shall bedivided as follows:
"Eight cents each to that loafer, Si Martin, his lazy wife, and theireight badly brought-up children, with instructions to be generous to anyadditions to said children through matrimony or natural causes; Fanny Woodand that poor, white-livered creature she married, thereby proving her ownidiocy if it needed proof; Uncle James's cross-eyed third wife and her twosilly daughters; Rebecca's sister's scoundrelly second husband, with hisfoolish wife and their little boy with a face like a pug dog; Uncle Jason,who has needed a bath ever since I knew him--I want he should spend hislegacy for soap--and his epileptic stepson, whose name I forget, though helived with me five years hand-running; lying Sally Simmons and herhalf-witted daughter; that old hen, Belinda Dodd; that skunk, HaroldVernon Perkins, who never did a stroke of honest work in his life till hebegan to dig for this box; monkey-faced Lucretia and the four thievinglittle Riley children, who are likely to get into prison when they growup; that human undertaker's waggon, Betsey Skiles, and her two impudentnieces; that grand old perambulating drug store, Israel Skiles; thatHolmes fool with the three reprints of her ugliness--eight cents apiece,and may you get all possible good out of it.
"Dick Chester, however, having always paid his board, and tried to be ahelp to me in several small ways, and in spite of having lived with meeight Summers or more without having been asked to do so, gets twothousand two hundred and fifty dollars which is deposited for him in thesavings department of the Metropolitan Bank, plus the three hundred andseventy dollars he paid me for board without my asking him for it. SarahSmithers, being in the main a good woman, though sharp-tongued at times,and having been faithful all the time my house has been full of lowdowncusses too lazy to work for their living, gets twelve hundred and fiftydollars which is in the same bank as Dick's. The rest of you take youreight cents apiece and be damned. You can get the money changed at thestore. If any have been left out, it is my desire that those rememberedshould divide with the unfortunate.
"If you had not all claimed to be Rebecca's relatives, you would have beenkicked out of my house years ago, but since writing this, I have seenRebecca and made it right with her. It was not her desire that I should beimposed upon.
"Get out of my house, every one of you, before noon to-morrow, and thedevil has my sincere sympathy when you go to live with him and make hellwhat you have made my house ever since Rebecca's death. GET OUT!!!
"Ebeneezer Judson."
The letter was badly written and incoherent, yet there could be no doubtof its meaning, nor of the state of mind in which it had been penned. Fora moment, there was a tense silence, then Mrs. Dodd titteredhysterically.
"We thought diamonds was goin' to be trumps," she observed, "an' it turnedout to be spades."
Uncle Israel wheezed again and Mrs. Smithers smacked her lips with intensesatisfaction. Mrs. Holmes was pale with anger, and, under cover of thenight, Dick sneaked back to his room, shame-faced, yet happy. ClaudiusTiberius still purred, sticking his claws into the bark with everyevidence of pleasure.
"I do not know," said Mr. Perkins, sadly, running his fingers through hismane, "whether we are obliged to take as final these vagaries of a dyingman. Dear Uncle Ebeneezer could not have been sane when he penned thiscruel letter. I do not believe it was his desire to have any of us go awaybefore the usual time." Under cover of these forgiving sentiments, hepocketed all the money in the box.
"Me neither," said Mrs. Dodd. "Anyhow, I'm goin' to stay. No sheetedspectre can't scare me away from a place I've always stayed in Summers,'specially," she added, sarcastically, "when I'm remembered in the will."
Mrs. Smithers clucked disagreeably and went back to the house. UncleIsrael looked after her with dismay. "Do you suppose," he queried, infalsetto, "that she'll tell the Carrs?"
"Hush, Israel," replied Mrs. Dodd. "She can't tell them Carrs about ourdiggin' all night in the orchard, 'cause she was here herself. They didn'tget no spirit communication an' they won't suspect nothin'. We'll juststay where we be an' go on 's if nothin' had happened."
Indeed, this seemed the wisest plan, and, shivering with the cold, thebaffled ones filed back to the Jack-o'-Lantern. "How did you get out,Israel?" whispered Mrs. Dodd, as they approached the house.
The old man snickered. It was the only moment of the evening he hadthoroughly enjoyed. "The same spirit that give me the letter, Belinda," hereturned, pleasantly, "also give me a key. You didn't think I had noflyin' machine, did you?"
"Humph" grunted Mrs. Dodd. "Spirits don't carry no keys!"
At the threshold they paused, the sensitive poet quite unstrung by thenight's adventure. From the depths of the Jack-o'-Lantern came a shrill,infantile cry.
"Is that Ebbie," asked Mrs. Dodd, "or Rebbie?"
Mrs. Holmes turned upon her with suppressed fury. "Don't you ever dare toallude to my children in that manner again," she commanded, hoarsely.
"What is their names?" quavered Uncle Israel, lighting his candle.
"Their names," returned Mrs. Holmes, with a vast accession of dignity,"are Gladys Gwendolen and Algernon Paul! Good night!"
Just before dawn, a sheeted spectre appeared at the side of SarahSmither's bed, and swore the trembling woman to secrecy. It was long pastsunrise before the frightened handmaiden came to her senses enough torecall that the voice of the apparition had been strangely like Mrs.Dodd's.