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Page 82
"Hughie!" he called in a low voice. "Hughie!"
There was a noise of many creaks overhead.
"I'm going to hitch up Nellie and drive over to Dr. Cole's farm. I--I
feel sure he buried the money!"
"God Almighty!" exclaimed Hughie.
But Kenny was already on his way to the kitchen door.
CHAPTER XXV
CHECKMATE!
Daylight came bleak and cold as Kenny drove rapidly up the doctor's
lane. The aggrieved mare had traveled. Through the farm window, green
with potted begonias, Kenny could see the doctor already at his
breakfast. A young colored girl was pouring out his coffee. The
doctor himself opened the door.
"Well, Mr. O'Neill," he exclaimed, "who's sick? Not Joan, I hope?"
"No," said Kenny, following the doctor back to the table. "No, nobody
sick."
"Sit down," invited the doctor, "I always figure you can talk as well
sitting as standing and you can rest. Won't you have some breakfast?"
"I couldn't eat," said Kenny. "Doctor," he added hoarsely, "would
it--be possible--for me--to speak to you--alone?"
The doctor nodded. In a life made up of emergencies as his was,
nothing astonished him.
"Annie," he said kindly, "just tell Mrs. Cole not to hurry down to
breakfast. And close the door."
Kenny took the will from his pocket and spread it on the table.
The doctor wearily fumbled for his glasses and put them on.
"Hum!" he said. "The old man's will, eh? I've been wondering about
it. Well, he didn't leave much but the farm, did he? And it might
have been better for Don and Joan if he'd taken it with him. Nobody
around here would buy it. A barn of a place! And the land's full of
stone."
"Ah!" said Kenny significantly. "But Adam Craig was a miser!"
"Pooh!" said the doctor with a sniff. "Who told you that?"
Kenny stared.
"I found it out for myself," he said stiffly. "Since then I have
learned that it is common rumor in the village. And the old man, even
when I--I spoke of it directly to him, never troubled to deny it."
"Shucks!" said the little doctor crossly. "He liked it. It saved his
pride."
"Saved--his--pride!"
The doctor nodded.
"Mr. O'Neill," he said, "country folks stare less unkindly at a miser
than at some other things. It hurt Adam, knowing his guilt, to see the
old Craig home going to rack and ruin. Had a lot of money when his
father died. A lot. And he wanted folks to think he still had it.
But he didn't. Went through it, Mr. O'Neill, hitting the high spots.
Came home a penniless wreck of a man, body and soul and pocketbook
warped beyond recall. I was there when they settled up his estate. As
a matter of fact my brother was his lawyer. And what he hadn't lost in
gambling and dissipation he lost speculating in Wall Street. Oh, he
never tried the miser stunt with me. He knew that I knew that he
hadn't a cent."
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