CHAPTER VII
A BELATED LETTER
The hay was all baled by the next morning, and the balers, atop thelumbering machine, caroled loudly if not musically as the fat horsesdragged them slowly up the lane. Neat bales of hay were piled high onthe barn floor, to be carted over to Hagar's Corners and loaded on afreight car. That would be Ethan's job, and he grumbled at theprospect of doing it without Bob's help.
Betty, coming in from the garden, stumbled over something in thenarrow entry. It was a man's coat--Mr. Peabody's, she recognized whenshe picked it up and shook it slightly to free it from dust. A letterfell from the pocket as she replaced it on the hook where it usuallyhung, and, stopping to pick it up, she saw to her surprise that itwas addressed to her.
"From Washington!" she said aloud, deciphering the postmark. "Andmailed five days ago! He's carried it in his pocket ever since itcame!"
At first she feared it had been read, but evidently Mr. Peabody hadnot troubled to open it; so hastily tearing the envelope, she readthe brief note. A check was enclosed for her, and Mr. Gordonsuggested that she go to Pineville and visit old friends there for aweek or two until his plans were definitely shaped.
"I know the Arnolds are in California," he wrote; "but theBensingers will be glad to have you, or any of your mother's oldfriends. You do not have to stay one minute where you are unhappy."
Betty looked up as a shadow fell across the sunny floor. It was Mr.Peabody, and he had the grace to show confusion when he saw theletter in her hand.
Betty sprang to her feet.
"Why did you keep my letter?" she demanded hotly. "How did you dareto hold back mail? This must have been in your coat pocket three orfour days. It was mailed five days ago!"
"Been rummaging in my coat pocket, have you?" sneered the farmer.
"I have not! The coat was on the floor, and I fell over it. Theletter fell out while I was trying to hang it up. No one has a rightto hold back another person's mail!"
"Now hold your horses," advised Peabody pacifically. "Who's beenholding back mail? If a body takes the mail out of the box andcarries it around in his coat a day or two, because he doesn'tremember it, that ain't such a crime that I ever knew. I just forgotthere was a letter for you."
Betty turned away in disgust and went out to her favorite apple treeto think things over. She did not believe for one moment that Mr.Peabody had forgotten her letter. Indeed, absent-mindedness was farfrom being one of his traits. However, there was absolutely nothingto be gained by arguing, and the way was now clear for her to leaveBramble Farm. Surely the worst of her troubles were over.
"I might go to Pineville," she thought meditatively. "I'd love tosee the Bensingers again and the dear little house where we lived.I'll pack this afternoon."
Betty was an orderly little person, and at her work that afternoonshe stopped frequently to sew on a button here, to mend a rip in thisgarment or to whip a frayed edge that might mar an otherwise daintybelonging. Singing softly over her task, a timid knock at her doorwakened the girl from a happy reverie.
"Come in, Mrs. Peabody," she called cheerfully. "Do sit down andgive me advice about where things should go. I thought I hadn'tbought anything this summer, but I seem to have a great deal morestuff than I brought with me."
"You're packing then?" asked Mrs. Peabody, taking a chair near thebed and regarding Betty oddly. "Are you really going, Betty?"
"Oh, yes," Betty answered matter-of-factly, "Uncle Dick wants me tostop in Pineville and visit old friends for a bit. And there's no usein pretending, Mrs. Peabody, that--that--"
"No, I suppose not," sighed the woman, understanding only too well."Land knows, if I could get away I'd have no misgivings about theright of it. I'll miss you, though. You've been a sight of companythis summer, and no one could have been sweeter to me, Betty."
"Agatha!" came a stentorian shout from the front hall. "Are yougoing to stay up there all day?"
"My stars, I forgot what I came up for!" Mrs. Peabody rosehurriedly. "Joseph sent me up to tell you he wanted to ask yousomething, Betty. And here I sit right down and him waiting there allthis time!"
Betty was far from concerned over Mr. Peabody's wasted time, but shewondered uneasily what he could wish to ask her. Something connectedwith Bob, doubtless. She followed Mrs. Peabody downstairs and foundthe master of Bramble Farm striding up and down impatiently.
"Never saw the beat of women," he muttered. "Gabble, gabble, and anhour right out of a day's work means nothing to 'em. Oh, here youare, Miss. You know that gray alpaca coat of mine you took the letterfrom this morning?"
"The coat the letter fell out of?" corrected Betty, knowing thatsuch quibbling was foolish On her part and might provoke seriousirritation in her questioner, yet unable to refrain. "Of course Iremember it; what about it?"
Peabody accepted her description of the coat. He was plainly excitedand nervous, and betrayed a curious disposition to conciliate Betty,instantly detected in his change of tone.
"Did you pick up any other papers?" he asked quite politely. "Anyfolded sheets, I mean, or a long envelope? I thought you might haveput them back of the clock or somewhere for safe keeping andforgotten to mention them to me."
Betty looked her astonishment. Automatically her eyes traveled tothe clock which was pulled out of its place against the wall. So theman had actually looked there, believing that out of chagrin shemight have concealed his papers from him!
"Nothing fell out of your pocket except my letter," she saidearnestly and with a quietness that carried conviction. "I sawabsolutely nothing else on the floor. If I had picked up otherpapers, I should have returned them to you, of course."
Mrs. Peabody cleared her throat, usually a sign of coming speech onthe rare occasions when she did open her mouth in her husband'spresence.
"What you lost, Joseph?" she asked eagerly. "Something missing outo' your pocket?"
"Yes, something out of my pocket!" said her husband savagely. "Youwouldn't know if I told you, but it's an unrecorded deed and worth agood deal of money. And I'll bet I know who took it--that measlyrunaway, Bob Henderson! By gum, he carried the coat up to the housefor me from the barn the day before he lit out. That's where it'sgone. I see his game! He'll try to get money out of me. But I won'tpay him a cent. No sir, I'll go to Washington first and choke thedeed out of his dirty pocket."
"Did Bob go to Washington?" quavered Mrs. Peabody, her mind seizingon this concrete fact, the one statement she could understand in herhusband's monologue. "How'd you find out, Joseph?"
"Not through Betty," returned Peabody grimly. "She's willing to takethe scoundrel's part against honest folks any time. Jim Turner toldme. Leastways he told me of some old duffer who runs a crazy shopdown there, and he thinks Bob's gone looking him up to find out abouthis parents. Just let him try blackmailing me, and he'll learn athing or two."
Betty had kept still as long as she could.
"Bob is no thief!" she said bravely. "You ought to be ashamed tosay such a thing about him. I know he didn't take your old deed. Whatearthly use would it be to him? Besides, Bob would never touch athing that wasn't his!"
"I don't believe he would take anything, Joseph," urged Mrs. Peabodywith perfectly amazing temerity. As a rule she took neither side in acontroversy. "Besides, as the child says, what good would anunrecorded deed do him? Unless--Joseph, have you bought the Warrenlots?"
"You tend to your housework, and I'll manage my own affairs,"snapped Peabody, turning a dull brick red, however. "I meant to putthe thing in the safety deposit box over to the bank, and then thatsick cow took my mind completely off it. If Betty didn't take it, Bobdid. It's gone, and they're the only two that could have put hands onit."
"I tell you that I haven't seen the deed," said Betty firmly. "And Iam equally certain that Bob never took it. He's the soul of honor,whatever you may think, and he would no more take what wasn't histhan he would lie to you about it."
Peabody caught hold of her right hand suddenly.
"What yo
u carrying?" he demanded suspiciously. "A trunk key? Looksmighty funny, doesn't it, to be packing up with something prettyvaluable missing? The law would likely give me the right to searchyour trunk."
"What a dreadful old man you are!" cried Betty, involuntarily,shrinking from the sinister face that grinned malevolently into hers."You have no right to touch my trunk."
"Well, no call to look like that," muttered Peabody, turning towardthe door. "I knew that other young one took it, and I aim to make ithot for him."
"Bob didn't take any deed!" stormed Betty to Mrs. Peabody, herpacking forgotten for the moment. "Why does he keep insisting Bobstole it? And why, oh, why did that poorhouse man have to tell whereBob had gone?"
Mrs. Peabody's natural curiosity had to be satisfied, and as it wasno longer a secret Betty told her of Lockwood Hale and Bob'sdetermination to find out more about himself.
"He doesn't want any deed," she finished scornfully. "Can't you makeMr. Peabody see how foolish such an accusation is?"
Mrs. Peabody leaned against the kitchen table wearily.
"I know what he's thinking," she said dully. "I know more than Iwant to know, Betty. Joseph has bought the Warren lots, and thatmeans he's got 'em for his own price. Old man Warren is in his dotageand these lots have been surveyed and cut up into building plots onthe stone road over t'other side of Laurel Grove where the trolley'scoming through this spring. Joseph will probably sell 'em for threetimes what he's paid for 'em. That's why he doesn't have the deedrecorded; Warren's children will get hold of it, and I doubt if thesale would hold in court. Everybody knows the old father isn'tcompetent to handle his property. There was talk of having one of thesons made his guardian some months ago. Joseph has just talked himinto selling. If he wasn't my husband, I should say the sale was aplain swindle."
Betty Gordon in Washington; Or, Strange Adventures in a Great City Page 7
