Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville

by L. Frank Baum

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  THE LOCKED CUPBOARD.

  Louise and Beth returned to the farm in dismal silence. Every prop hadbeen knocked from beneath their carefully erected temple of mystery. Nowthere was no mystery at all.

  In a few words, Joe Wegg had explained everything, and explained all sosimply and naturally that Louise felt like sobbing with the bitternessof a child deprived of its pet plaything. The band of self-constitutedgirl detectives had been "put out of business," as Patsy said, becausethe plain fact had developed that there was nothing to detect, and neverhad been. There had been no murder, no robbery, no flight or hiding onthe part of the Weggs to escape an injured enemy; nothing evenmysterious, in the light of the story they had just heard. It wasdreadfully humiliating and thoroughly disheartening, after all theirearnest endeavor to investigate a crime that had never been committed.

  Uncle John rallied his nieces on their somber faces at the dinner table,and was greatly amused when the Major, despite the appealing looksdirected at him, gave Mr. Merrick a brief resume of the afternoon'sdevelopments.

  "Well, I declare!" said the little man, merrily; "didn't I warn you,Louise, not to try to saddle a murder onto my new farm? How you foolishgirls could ever have imagined such a carnival of crime in connectionwith the Weggs is certainly remarkable."

  "I don't know about that, sir," returned the Major, seriously. "I wasmeself inoculated with the idea, and for a while I considered meself andthe girls the equals of all the Pinkertons in the country. And when yecome to think of it, the history of poor Captain Wegg and his wife, andof Nora and Thomas as well, is out of the ordinary entirely, and,without the explanation, contained all the elements of afirst-class mystery."

  "How did you say the Weggs lost their money?" inquired Uncle John,turning the subject because he saw that it embarrassed his nieces.

  "Why, forest fires at Almaquo, in Canada, burned down the timber theyhad bought," replied the Major. "And, by the way, John, you'reinterested in that matter yourself, for the Pierce-Lane Lumber Company,in which you own a lot of stock, had contracted to cut the timber ona royalty."

  "How long ago?"

  "Three years, sir."

  "Well, we've been cutting timber at Almaquo ever since," said Mr.Merrick.

  Louise dropped her fork with a clatter, disclosing, in this well-bredyoung lady, an unusual degree of excitement.

  "Then there _is_ something to detect!" she cried.

  "Eh? What do you mean?" inquired her uncle.

  "If you've been cutting timber at Almaquo for three years, the treescouldn't have burned down," Louise declared, triumphantly.

  "That is evident," said the Major, dryly. "I've had it in me mind,Louise, to take that matter up for investigation; but you are so imbuedwith the detective spirit that there's no heading you off a trail."

  "Before the dessert comes on," announced Uncle John, impressively, "Iwant to make a statement. You folks have tried your hands at thedetective business and made a mess of it. Now it's my turn. I'll be adetective for three days, and if I don't succeed better than you did,young women, we'll mingle our tears in all humility. Eh, Major?"

  "Put me in the bunch, sir," said the old soldier, "I was as bad as anyof them. And go ahead in your own way, if ye like. It's me humbleopinion, John, that you're no Sherlock Holmes; but ye won't believe it'til ye satisfy yourself of the fact."

  Next morning the loungers around Sam Cotting's store were thrown into astate of great excitement when "the nabob" came over from the Wegg farmand held the long-distance telephone for more than an hour, while hetalked with people in New York. The natives knew that their telephone,which was built into a small booth at one end of the store--next thepost-office boxes--was part of a system that made it possible for one totalk to those in far away cities. Often the country people would eye themysterious-looking instrument with awe and whisper to each other of itsmighty powers; but no one had ever before used it to telephone fartherthan the Junction, and then only on rare occasions.

  "It'll cost a heap o' money, Sam," said McNutt, uneasily, while UncleJohn was engaged in his remarkable conversation. They could see him inthe booth, through the little window.

  "It will, Mac," was the solemn reply. "But the fool nabob may as wellspend it thet way as any other. It's mighty little of his capital ersurplus gits inter _my_ cash-drawer; 'n' thet's a fact."

  Uncle John came from the booth, perspiring, but smiling and happy. Hewalked across the street to see Joe Wegg, and found the youth seated ina rocking-chair and looking quite convalescent. But he had company. In achair opposite sat a man neatly dressed, with a thin, intelligent face,a stubby gray moustache, and shrewd eyes covered by horn-rimmedspectacles.

  "Good morning, Mr. Merrick," said Joe, cheerily; "this is Mr. RobertWest, one of the Millville merchants, who is an old friend ofour family."

  "I've heard of Mr. West, and I'm glad to meet him," replied Uncle John,looking at the other calmly, but not offering to shake hands. "I believeyou are the president and treasurer of the Almaquo Timber Tract Company,are you not?"

  Joseph looked startled, and then embarrassed, as he overheard thequestion. West, without altering his position of careless ease, glancedover the rims of his glasses at the speaker.

  "I am the humble individual you refer to, Mr. Merrick," he said,briefly.

  "But the Almaquo timber all burned down." remarked Joe, thinking anexplanation was needed.

  "That's a mistake," returned Mr. Merrick. "My company has paid Mr. West,as treasurer of his company, more than fifty thousand dollars during thelast three years."

  West's jaw dropped.

  "Your company!" he exclaimed, as if mystified.

  "Yes; I own the controlling interest in the Pierce-Lane Lumber Company,which has the contract to cut your timber," answered Mr. Merrick.

  The hardware dealer slowly arose and glanced at his watch.

  "I must get back to my store," he said. "You are somewhat in error aboutyour company, Mr. Merrick; but I suppose your interests are so large andvaried that you cannot well keep track of them. Good morning, sir. I'llsee you again soon, Joe. Glad you're improving so rapidly. Let me knowif I can do anything to help you."

  With these quiet words, he bowed and left the room, and when he hadgone, Joe said, in a deprecating tone:

  "Poor Bob must be very unhappy about having lost my father's money inthat speculation, for he advocated the plan very strongly, believing itwas a good investment. I'm afraid your mistake about paying him all thatmoney upset him. Don't mind if he was a little brusque, sir. Bob West isa simple, kindly man, whom my father fully trusted. It was he thatloaned me the money to get away from here with."

  "Tell me," said Uncle John, thoughtfully, "did your father receive stockin the Almaquo Timber Tract Company in exchange for his money?"

  "Oh, yes; I have seen it in the steel cupboard," replied Joe.

  "Where is that?"

  "Why, it is the cupboard in the right wing of our house, which was theCaptain's own room. It was one of his whims, when he built, to providewhat he called his 'bank.' You may have noticed the wooden doors of acupboard built into the stone wall, sir?"

  "Yes; I occupy the room."

  "Behind the wooden doors are others of steel. The entire cupboard issteel-lined. Near the bottom is a sliding-plate, which, when pushedaside, discovers a hidden drawer--a secret my father never confided toanyone but me. He once told me that if his heart trouble earned him offsuddenly I ought to know of the existence of this drawer; so he showedme how to find it. On the day after his death I took the keys, which healways carried on a small chain around his neck and concealed underneathhis clothing, and opened the cupboard to see if I could find anything ofvalue. It is needless to say, I could not discover anything that couldbe converted into a dollar. The Captain had filled the cupboard with oldletters and papers of no value, and with relics he had brought fromforeign lands during his many voyages. These last are mere rubbish, butI suppose he loved them for their association. In the
secret drawer Ifound his stock in the timber company, and also that of old WillThompson, who had doubtless left it with my father for safekeeping.Knowing it was now worthless, I left it in the drawer."

  "I'd like to see it," announced Uncle John.

  Joe laughed.

  "I've lost the keys," he said.

  "How's that, my lad?"

  "Why, on the day of the funeral the keys disappeared. I could neverimagine what became of them. But I did not care to look in the cupboarda second time, so the loss did not matter."

  Mr. Merrick seemed thoughtful.

  "I suppose I own that cupboard now," he remarked.

  "Of course," said Joe. "But without the keys it is not serviceable. Ifyou drill through the steel doors you destroy their security."

  "True; but I may decide to do that."

  "If you do, sir, I'd like you to clear out the rubbish and papers andsend them to me. They are family matters, and I did not intend to sellthem with the place."

  "You shall have them, Joe."

  "Just underneath the left end of the lower shelf you will find thesliding steel plate. It slides toward the front. In the drawer you willfind the worthless stock and a picture of my mother. I'd like to keepthe picture."

  "You shall, Joseph. How are you getting on?"

  "Why, I'm a new man, Mr. Merrick, and today I'm feeling as strong as abuffalo--thanks to your kind guardianship."

  "Don't overdo, sir. Take it easy. There's a young lady coming to see youtoday."

  "Ethel!" the boy exclaimed, his face turning crimson.

  "Yes," returned Uncle John, tersely. "You've treated that girlshamefully, Joseph Wegg. Try to make proper amends."

  "I never could understand," said Joe, slowly, "why Ethel refused toanswer the letter I wrote her when I went away. It explainedeverything, yet--"

  "I'll bet the farm against your lame shoulder she never got yourletter," declared Uncle John. "She thought you left her without a word."

  "I gave it to McNutt to deliver after I was gone. But you say she'scoming today?"

  "That is her intention, sir."

  Joe said nothing more, but his expressive face was smiling and eager.Uncle John pressed the boy's hand and left him, promising to callagain soon.

  "Now, then," muttered the little millionaire, as he walked down thestreet, "to beard the lion in his den."

  The den proved to be the hardware store, and the lion none other thanRobert West. Mr. Merrick found the merchant seated at his desk in theotherwise deserted store, and, with a nod, helped himself to the onlyother chair the little office contained.

  "Sir," said he, "I am here to demand an explanation."

  "Of what?" asked West, coldly.

  "Of your action in the matter of the Almaquo Timber Tract Company. Ibelieve that you falsely asserted to Captain Wegg and Mr. Thompson thatthe timber had burned and their investment was therefore worthless. Thenews of the disaster killed one of your confiding friends and drove theother mad; but that was a consequence that I am sure you did not intendwhen you planned the fraud. The most serious thing I can accuse you ofis holding the earnings of the Wegg and Thompson stock--and big earningsthey are, too--for your own benefit, and defrauding the heirs of yourassociates of their money."

  West carefully balanced a penholder across his fingers, and eyed it withclose attention.

  "You are a queer man, Mr. Merrick," he said, quietly. "I can only excuseyour insults on the grounds of ignorance, or the fact that you have beenmisinformed. Here is the newspaper report of the Almaquo fire, which Ishowed my friends the night of Captain Wegg's sudden death." He took aclipping from a drawer of the desk and handed it to Uncle John, who readit carefully.

  "As a matter of fact," continued West, "you are not cutting that portionof the Almaquo tract which this fire refers to, and which Thompson andWegg were interested in, but the north half of the tract, which they hadnever acquired any title to."

  "I suppose the stock will show that," suggested Mr. Merrick.

  "Of course, sir."

  "I will look it up."

  West smiled.

  "You will have some trouble doing that," he said.

  "Why?"

  "Wegg and Thompson had transferred their entire stock to me before onedied and the other went mad," was the quiet reply.

  "Oh, I see." The lie was so evident that Uncle John did not try torefute it.

  "I am rather busy, Mr. Merrick. Anything more, sir?"

  "Not today. Bye and bye, Mr. West."

  He marched out again and climbed into his buggy to drive home. Theinterview with Bob West had made him uneasy, for the merchant's cold,crafty nature rendered him an opponent who would stick at nothing toprotect his ill-gotten gains. Uncle John had thought it an easy matterto force him to disgorge, but West was the one inhabitant of Millvillewho had no simplicity in his character. He was as thoroughly imbued withworldly subtlety and cunning as if he had lived amid the grille of acity all his life; and Mr. Merrick was by no means sure of his ownability to unmask the man and force him to make restitution.