“Good gracious, Patsy!” chuckled the major, “wherever can the poor things borrow money to keep going? Do you want to load onto an innocent bride an’ groom the necessity of meeting a deficit of a couple of hundred dollars every week?”
Patsy’s face fell.
“They have no money, I know,” she said, “except what they earn.”
“And their wages’ll be cut off when they begin hiring themselves,” added the major. “No; you can’t decently thrust such an incubus on Hetty and Thursday — or on anyone else. You’ve been willing to pay the piper for the sake of the dance, but no one else would do it.”
“Quite true,” agreed Arthur. “The days of the Millville Tribune are numbered.”
“Let us not settle that question just yet,” proposed Mr. Merrick, who had been deep in thought. “I’ll consider Patsy’s proposition for awhile and then talk with Thursday. The paper belongs to the girls, but the outfit is mine, and I suppose I may do what I please with it when my nieces retire from journalism.”
Even the major could not demur at this statement and so the conversation dropped. During the next few days Uncle John visited the printing office several times and looked over the complete little plant with speculative eyes. Then one day he made a trip to Malvern, thirty miles up the railway line from the Junction, where a successful weekly paper had long been published. He interviewed the editor, examined the outfit critically, and after asking numerous questions returned to Millville in excellent spirits.
Then he invited Thursday Smith and Hetty to dine at the farm on Saturday evening, which was the one evening in the week they were free, there being no Sunday morning paper. Thursday had bought a new suit of clothes since he came to the Tribune, and Hetty, after much urging, finally prevailed upon him to accept the invitation. When the young man appeared at the farm he wore his new suit with an air of perfect ease that disguised its cheapness, and it was noticed that he seemed quite at home in the handsome living-room, where the party assembled after dinner.
“I am in search of information, Thursday,” said Uncle John in his pleasant way. “Will you permit me to question you a bit?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“And you, Hetty?”
“Ask anything you like, sir.”
“Thank you. To begin with, what are your future plans? I understand, of course, you are to be married; but — afterward?”
“We haven’t considered that as yet, sir,” replied Thursday thoughtfully. “Of course we shall stay with the Tribune as long as you care to employ our services; but — ”
“Well?”
“I have been given to understand the young ladies plan to return to New York at the end of September, and in that case of course the paper will suspend.”
“My nieces will be obliged to abandon journalism, to be sure,” said Mr. Merrick; “but I see no reason why the paper should suspend. How would you and Hetty like to remain in Millville and run it?”
Both Thursday and Hetty smiled, but it was the man who answered;
“We cannot afford such a luxury, sir.”
“Would you care to make your future home in Millville?”
“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Hetty. “I love the quaint little town dearly, and the villagers are all my friends. I’m sure Thursday doesn’t care to go back to New York, where — where Harold Melville once lived. But, as he truly says, we couldn’t make a living with the Tribune, even if you gave us the use of the plant.”
“Let us see about that,” said Uncle John. “I will admit, in advance, that a daily paper in such a place is absurd. None of us quite understood that when we established the Tribune. My nieces thought a daily the only satisfactory sort of newspaper, because they were used to such, but it did not take long to convince me — and perhaps them — that in spite of all our efforts the Millville Daily Tribune would never thrive. It is too expensive to pay its own way and requires too much work to be a pleasant plaything. Only unbounded enthusiasm and energy have enabled my clever nieces to avoid being swamped by the monster their ambition created.”
“That,” said Patsy, with a laugh, “is very clearly and concisely put, my dear Uncle.”
“It was never intended to be a permanent thing, anyhow,” continued Mr. Merrick; “yet I must express my admiration for the courage and talent my nieces have displayed in forcing a temporary success where failure was the logical conclusion. Shortly, however, they intend to retire gracefully from the field of journalism, leaving me with a model country newspaper plant on my hands. Therefore it is I, Thursday and Hetty, and not my nieces, who have a proposition to place before you.
“While a daily paper is not appropriate in Millville, a weekly paper, distributed throughout Chazy County, would not only be desirable but could be made to pay an excellent yearly profit. Through the enterprise of Joe Wegg, Millville is destined to grow rapidly from this time on, and Chazy County is populous enough to support a good weekly paper, in any event. Therefore, my proposition is this: To turn the plant over to Mr. and Mrs. Thursday Smith, who will change the name to the Millville Weekly Tribune and run it as a permanent institution. Your only expense for labor will be one assistant to set type and do odd jobs, since you are so competent that you can attend to all else yourselves. We will cut out the expensive news service we have heretofore indulged in and dispense with the private telegraph wire. Joe Wegg says he’ll furnish you with what power you need free of all charge, because the paper will boost Millville’s interests, with which his own interests are identified. Now, then, tell me what you think of my proposal.”
Hetty and Thursday had listened attentively and their faces proved they were enthusiastic over the idea. They said at once they would be glad to undertake the proposition.
“However,” said Thursday, after a little reflection, “there are two things that might render our acceptance impossible. I suppose you will require rent for the outfit; but for a time, until we get well started, we could not afford to pay as much as you have a right to demand.”
“I have settled on my demands,” replied Mr. Merrick, “and hope you will agree to them. You must pay me for the use of the outfit twenty per cent of your net profits, over and above all your operating and living expenses. When this sum has reimbursed me for my investment, the outfit will belong to you.”
Thursday Smith looked his amazement.
“That seems hardly business-like, sir,” he protested.
“You are right; but this isn’t entirely a business deal. You are saving my nieces the humiliation of suspending the paper they established and have labored on so lovingly. Moreover, I regard you and Hetty as friends whom I am glad to put in the way of a modest but — I venture to predict — a successful business career. What is your second objection?”
“I heard Mr. West say the other day that he would soon need the building we occupy to store his farm machinery in.”
“True; but I have anticipated that. I have completed plans for the erection of a new building for the newspaper, which will be located on the vacant lot next to the hotel. I purchased the lot a long time ago. The new building, for which the lumber is already ordered, will be a better one than the shed we are now in, and on the second floor I intend to have a cozy suite of rooms where you and Hetty can make a home of your own. Eh? How does that strike you, my children?”
Their faces were full of wonder and delight.
“The new building goes with the outfit, on the same terms,” continued Mr. Merrick. “That is I take one-fifth of your net profits for the whole thing.”
“But, sir,” suggested Thursday, “suppose no profits materialize?”
“Then I have induced you to undertake a poor venture and must suffer the consequences, which to me will be no hardship at all. In that case I will agree to find some better business for you, but I am quite positive you will make a go of the Millville Weekly Tribune.”
“I think so, too, Mr. Merrick, or I would not accept your generous offer,” replied Smith.
“What do you think, Hetty?”
“The idea pleases me immensely,” she declared. “It is a splendid opportunity for us, and will enable us to live here quietly and forget the big outside world. New York has had a bad influence on both you and me, Thursday, and here we can begin a new life of absolute respectability.”
“When do you intend to be married?” asked Patsy.
“We have scarcely thought of that, as yet, for until this evening we did not know what the future held in store for us.”
“Couldn’t you arrange the wedding before we leave?” asked Beth. “It would delight us so much to be present at the ceremony.”
“I think we owe the young ladies that much, Thursday,” said Hetty, after a brief hesitation.
“Nothing could please me better,” he asserted eagerly.
So they canvassed the wedding, and Patsy proposed they transfer the paper to Thursday and Hetty — to become a weekly instead of a daily — in a week’s time, and celebrate the wedding immediately after the second issue, so as to give the bridal couple a brief vacation before getting to work again. Neither of them wished to take a wedding trip, and Mr. Merrick promised to rush the work on the new building so they could move into their new rooms in the course of a few weeks.
CHAPTER XXIV
A CHEERFUL BLUNDER
“We would like to ask your advice about one thing, sir,” said Thursday Smith to Mr. Merrick, a little later that same evening. “Would it be legal for me to marry under the name of Thursday Smith, or must I use my real name — Harold Melville?”
Uncle John could not answer this question, nor could the major or
Arthur. Hetty and her fiancé had both decided to cling to the name of
Thursday Smith thereafter, and they disliked to be married under any
other — especially the detestable one of Harold Melville.
“An act of legislature would render your new name legal, I believe,” said Mr. Merrick; “but such an act could not be passed until after the date you have planned to be married.”
“But if it was made legal afterward it wouldn’t matter greatly,” suggested the major.
“I do not think it matters at all,” asserted Hetty. “It’s the man I’m marrying, not his name. I don’t much care what he calls himself.”
“Oh, but it must be legal, you know!” exclaimed Patsy. “You don’t care now, perhaps, but you might in the future. We cannot be certain, you know, that Thursday is entirely free from his former connection with Harold Melville.”
“Quite true,” agreed the major.
“Then,” said Smith, with evident disappointment, “I must use the hateful name of Melville for the wedding, and afterward abandon it for as long as possible.”
The nieces were greatly pleased with Uncle John’s arrangement, which relieved them of the newspaper and also furnished Thursday and Hetty, of whom they had grown really fond, with a means of gaining a livelihood.
Millville accepted the new arrangement with little adverse comment, the villagers being quite satisfied with a weekly paper, which would cost them far less than the daily had done. Everyone was pleased to know Thursday Smith had acquired the business, for both he and Hetty had won the cordial friendship of the simple-hearted people and were a little nearer to them than “the nabob’s girls” could ever be.
Preparations were speedily pushed forward for the wedding, which the nieces undertook to manage themselves, the prospective bride and groom being too busy at the newspaper office to devote much attention to the preliminaries of the great event.
The ceremony was to take place at the farmhouse of Mr. Merrick, and every inhabitant of Millville was invited to be present. The minister would drive over from Hooker’s Falls, and the ceremony was to be followed by a grand feast, for which delicacies were to be imported from New York.
The girls provided a complete trousseau for Hetty, as their wedding present, while Arthur and the major undertook to furnish the new apartments, which were already under construction. Uncle John’s gift was a substantial check that would furnish the newly married couple with modest capital to promote their business or which they could use in case of emergencies.
It was the very day before the wedding that Fogerty gave them so great and agreeable a surprise that Uncle John called it “Fogerty’s Wedding Present” ever afterward. In its physical form it was merely a telegram, but in its spiritual and moral aspect it proved the greatest gift Thursday and Hetty were destined to receive. The telegram was dated from New York and read as follows:
“Harold Melville just arrested here for passing a bogus check under an assumed name. Have interviewed him and find he is really Melville, so Thursday Smith must be some one else, and doubtless a more respectable character. Shall I undertake to discover his real identity?”
Uncle John let Thursday and Hetty answer this question, and their reply was a positive “no!”
“The great Fogerty made such a blunder the first time,” said Hetty, who was overjoyed at the glorious news, “that he might give poor Thursday another dreadful scare if he tackled the job again. Let the mystery remain unfathomable.”
“But, on the contrary, my dear, Fogerty might discover that Thursday was some eminent and good man — as I am firmly convinced is the truth,” suggested Mr. Merrick.
“He’s that right now,” asserted Hetty. “For my part, I prefer to know nothing of his former history, and Thursday says the present situation thoroughly contents him.”
“I am more than contented,” said Thursday, with a happy smile. “Hetty has cured me of my desire to wander, and no matter what I might have been in the past I am satisfied to remain hereafter a country editor.”
AUNT JANE’S NIECES ON THE RANCH
Aunt Jane’s Nieces on the Ranch was Baum’s eighth novel in the series, published in 1913 under the pseudonym, Edith Van Dyne, by Reilly & Britton, illustrated by Emile A. Nelson. One of the nieces, Louise, now lives on a ranch in California with her husband and baby. Her cousins and Uncle John come out for a visit, brining with them a professional nurse to replace the baby’s Mexican nurse, Inez. A conflict results between the two nurses. The plot also involves a mysterious disappearance, secret chambers, and treasure.
A first edition copy of Aunt Jane’s Nieces on the Ranch
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I — UNCLE JOHN DECIDES
CHAPTER II — EL CAJON RANCH
CHAPTER III — THAT BLESSED BABY!
CHAPTER IV — LITTLE JANE’S TWO NURSES
CHAPTER V — INEZ THREATENS
CHAPTER VI — A DINNER WITH THE NEIGHBORS
CHAPTER VII — GONE!
CHAPTER VIII — VERY MYSTERIOUS
CHAPTER IX — A FRUITLESS SEARCH
CHAPTER X — CONJECTURES AND ABSURDITIES
CHAPTER XI — THE MAJOR ENCOUNTERS THE GHOST
CHAPTER XII — ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE
CHAPTER XIII — THE WAY IT HAPPENED
CHAPTER XIV — PRISONERS OF THE WALL
CHAPTER XV — MILDRED CONFIDES IN INEZ
CHAPTER XVI — AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL
CHAPTER XVII — THE PRODIGAL SON
CHAPTER XVIII — LACES AND GOLD
CHAPTER XIX — INEZ AND MIGUEL
CHAPTER XX — MR. RUNYON’S DISCOVERY
CHAPTER XXI — A FORTUNE IN TATTERS
CHAPTER XXII — FAITHFUL AND TRUE
CHAPTER I — UNCLE JOHN DECIDES
“And now,” said Major Doyle, rubbing his hands together as he half reclined in his big chair in a corner of the sitting room, “now we shall enjoy a nice cosy winter in dear New York.”
“Cosy?” said his young daughter, Miss Patricia Doyle, raising her head from her sewing to cast a glance through the window at the whirling snowflakes.
“Ab-so-lute-ly cosy, Patsy, my dear,” responded the major. “Here we are in our own steam-heated flat — seven rooms and a bath, not counting the closets — hot water any time you turn the faucet; a telephone call brings the
butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker; latest editions of the papers chucked into the passage! What more do you want?”
“Tcha!”
This scornful ejaculation came from a little bald-headed man seated in the opposite corner, who had been calmly smoking his pipe and dreamily eyeing the flickering gas-log in the grate. The major gave a start and turned to stare fixedly at the little man. Patsy, scenting mischief, indulged in a little laugh as she threaded her needle.
“Sir! what am I to understand from that brutal interruption?” demanded Major Doyle sternly.
“You’re talking nonsense,” was the reply, uttered in a tone of cheery indifference. “New York in winter is a nightmare. Blizzards, thaws, hurricanes, ice, la grippe, shivers — grouches.”
“Drumsticks!” cried the major indignantly. “It’s the finest climate in the world — bar none. We’ve the finest restaurants, the best theatres, the biggest stores and — and the stock exchange. And then, there’s Broadway! What more can mortal desire, John Merrick?”
The little man laughed, but filled his pipe without reply.
“Uncle John is getting uneasy,” observed Patsy. “I’ve noticed it for some time. This is the first snowstorm that has caught him in New York for several years.”
“The blizzard came unusually early,” said Mr. Merrick apologetically. “It took me by surprise. But I imagine there will be a few days more of decent weather before winter finally sets in. By that time — ”
“Well, what then?” asked the major in defiant accents, as his brother-in-law hesitated.
“By that time we shall be out of it, of course,” was the quiet reply.
Patsy looked at her uncle reflectively, while the major grunted and shifted uneasily in his chair. Father and daughter were alike devoted to John Merrick, whose generosity and kindliness had rescued them from poverty and thrust upon them all the comforts they now enjoyed. Even this pretty flat building in Willing Square, close to the fashionable New York residence district, belonged in fee to Miss Doyle, it having been a gift from her wealthy uncle. And Uncle John made his home with them, quite content in a seven-room-flat when his millions might have purchased the handsomest establishment in the metropolis. Down in Wall Street and throughout the financial districts the name of the great John Merrick was mentioned with awe; here in Willing Square he smoked a pipe in his corner of the modest sitting room and cheerfully argued with his irascible brother-in-law, Major Doyle, whose business it was to look after Mr. Merrick’s investments and so allow the democratic little millionaire the opportunity to come and go as he pleased.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 490
