CHAPTER XVII

THE STRONG BOX

Perry Baker, the cadaverous expressman, whose ancient gray horse immediately went to sleep standing in the shafts when his master drew up before any destination, had occasion a day or two later to pass Eliphalet Truitt's door. The ex-steward was pottering about his tiny front yard in the frosty air.

"How be ye, 'Liphalet?" demanded Perry, with frank curiosity. "How ye feelin'? Huldy heard you wasn't right chipper and she wanted I sh'd ask."

"By Hannah!" snapped the taut little man, his face flaming redder than usual. "Who says I'm sick, I'd like to know?"

"Why, Doc Ambrose, I b'lieve, said you was out of kilter," said the astonished Perry, for 'Liphalet was usually the gentlest of men. "Ain't you?"

"No, I ain't!" replied 'Liphalet ungraciously. "Ain't nothin' the matter with me except the curiosity of my friends; an' that's struck in! What ye got for me?"

Perry began to grin more broadly. Cap'n Abe said, "Perry Baker couldn't drink tea out of a saucer without scalding his ears!" 'Liphalet watched the expressman now with apprehension, seemingly expecting to see the ears engulfed within the cavity of Perry's enormous mouth.

"I vow to man! did you expec' anything, 'Liphalet?" he finally gurgled. "Warn't lookin' for no Christmas gif', was ye?"

"Christmas--_bah_!" ejaculated the highly indignant 'Liphalet. "Who'd send _me_ anything I didn't pay two prices for, I want to know? Ain't nothin' for me, then?"

"You can see all I've got. That barrel for Cap'n Abe. And this here iron box for the Petty place."

"By Hannah!" exclaimed the ex-steward with sudden interest, standing on tip-toe to peer into the wagon body. "That box? Who's it for?"

"Cap'n Jonah Hand. And b'lieve me," added the expressman, almost in a whisper, "I'm keepin' my eye on that, 'Liphalet. It was give me at the Paulmouth National Bank. There was some talk of sendin' the bank messenger along with me. You know: Phillibeg Aspen. He always carries a loaded pistol. There must be something mighty valu'ble in that box--an' 'tis heavy as lead."

"By Hannah!" repeated 'Liphalet, in wonder.

"If ye want to know what _I_ think," continued Perry in the same cautious tone, "I b'lieve there's money in that strong box. They say Cap'n Jonah Hand is rich as cream! Like enough he is a-goin' to count his money over to see just how much he's got. What's the matter, 'Liphalet?"

"By Hannah!" choked the ex-steward, hiding his face. "I got a cough. I guess I must ha' caught cold after all."

"That so? I'll tell Huldy," said Perry briskly. "She makes a lickin' good cough syrup and she'll send ye some. I'd ruther have a cold than not, if I can git plenty of Huldy's cough syrup."

The expressman woke up the old gray horse and drove on, leaving 'Liphalet feeling more amused than he had been before in many a long day. Even the brooding banshee of the Christmas spirit lifted from his mind for the moment.

"By Hannah!" he murmured, "I reckon Cap'n Abe has cooked up somethin' for Jonah Hand, just as he said he would."

The expressman driving up the Petty lane brought all the family save Cap'n Jonah himself to doors and windows. Even Joe Helmford peered out with interest to see the heavy steel box, fastened by two big brass padlocks, lifted down from the wagon.

"For Uncle Jonah? I want to know!" murmured Sarah Petty.

"Hoh! What's in it? Rocks?" mumbled Tom, who helped Perry Baker handle the box.

"Goshamighty! From the bank?" repeated Orrin.

"Is he here?" asked Perry importantly. "I've got to deliver it to Cap'n Hand pusson'ly. An' this packet," he added, drawing from his breast pocket an envelope well spotted with black sealing-wax.

"He's up in his room," said Orrin eagerly.

"Better take it right up to Uncle Jonah, Perry," Sarah observed, her hands and eyebrows both twitching. Her gaze never left the strong box as the men carried it through the kitchen.

They stumbled up the crooked back stairs and found Cap'n Jonah ready for them with his door wide open.

"Howdy, Mr. Baker," he said, cordially, leaning on his gold-headed cane in the middle of his poor room. "Set that chist right here by the winder. I shan't want to lift it 'round much, feelin' as rickety as I do now. And I'll want light to see into it. That's it. Now the keys. Yep. I'll sign your receipt."

He signed his name to the paper and paid Perry his fee. Tom lingered at the door of the room, his eyes like knobs. The expressman fell over the lout as he retreated and pushed him down the stairs ahead of him.

"The old man don't seem very spry," Perry said, in a hoarse whisper, to the Petty trio. "I don't dispute he feels his years. P'r'aps he won't have many more chances to look over his--his things. He tells me to come back again for that box day after to-morrow."

"Yes," Sarah Petty said with set lips. "Good day, Perry."

"There ain't many folks in Cardhaven, I don't guess," pursued the unabashed expressman, "that's any better off for this world's goods than Cap'n Hand?"

"Quite prob'ble," snapped Sarah.

"You said yourself, Orrin," went on Perry Baker, "he was a very rich man, 'cordin' to all you could find out."

Sarah glared at her husband in hot wrath. Orrin shuffled his feet and said nothing. He was not going to admit or deny the truth of Perry's artless statement.

"Wal, he's an old man. Right crippled with rheumatics," went on the expressman. "He'll prob'bly be consider'ble of a care afore he passes away. But you folk'll have a chance to make his last days happy."

"I'd like to make _your_ last days happy!" hissed Sarah Petty, as the talkative expressman finally slid out through the kitchen doorway, with Orrin and Tom barring any chance of his return.

Both men wheeled to face the open kitchen door again as Perry aroused his old horse and drove away.

"Goshamighty!" exploded Orrin. "What did I----"

"You jest hesh!" hissed Sarah. "You knowed more'n Solomon and all his seven hundred wives put together. An' you can bet that's why Solomon knew so much. His wives told him!

"Now, you two git along about your work. Don't you interfere. Act like you had some pride and manners. You look like hungry houn's snuffin' around a garbage bucket. Get out with ye!"

"But--but," gasped Orrin, "do you re'lly s'pose there's money in that box?"

"'Twas heavy enough to be filled chock-a-block with gold and silver," declared Tom, quite as eager as his father.

"Don't be sech fools," admonished Sarah Petty. "You can bet Uncle Jonah ain't so crazy as to have his property in cash. He's got what he's got invested, of course. In good dividend-paying stocks an' bonds an' sich. That box is heavy because it is made of iron."

"But there might be treasure in it, too--pearls, or di'monds, or other precious stones," said Orrin, letting his imagination ride free. "He's been all through the East where they git sech things. He's knowed Chinese mandarins, an' Indian rajahs, an' Persian shahs, an'----"

"I don't care," snapped Sarah, "if he knowed the Archon of Swat! _I_ know that Uncle Jonah is too much a Hand to let money or precious stones lie around idle. 'All cats must ketch mice' is our fam'ly's motter. He'll be drawin' dividends an' int'rest on ev'ry dollar he can. You leave it to me, Orrin Petty. I'll find out what Uncle Jonah's fortune is invested in--an' how much it 'mounts to."

But after all it was Tom, the lout, to whom the mystery was the more intimately revealed. Orrin fairly sweated all through dinner time, unable to speak a word for fear he would blurt out some question about the strong box, but Sarah's eye quelled him.

Cap'n Jonah never mentioned the mystery. But he seemed more cheerful than of late. To Pearl he was always kind--even fatherly. He and Mr. Helmford chatted most companionably. The three Pettys felt themselves rather out of it. Even Sarah's thoughts were so much engrossed by the matter of the strong box from the bank, that she could not give her mind to any ordinary conversational topic.

The captain was already "paying 'em back," as he had expressed it to his crony, 'Liphalet Truitt, and to Cap'n Abe. The more Orrin fidgeted, and Sarah held herself in by main force, the more cheerful Cap'n Jonah grew.

There was a settled seriousness in Joe Helmford's manner that the captain did not notice. Only Pearl saw this, and feared the boarder had by no means recovered from his indignation of a few nights before.

He had been uniformly kind to her since the evening Sarah Petty had driven Pearl so ignominiously from his room. But they had never renewed the intimacy which preceded that unfortunate occasion. Pearl had continued to borrow books, however, in spite of Mrs. Petty's command to the contrary.

As for Sarah and Orrin, their treatment of the girl seemed to infer a change of heart. For the first time since Pearl could remember, peace--or, at least, an armistice--reigned in the Petty household.

Yet the girl was by no means happy. She felt a positive loss of something. Helmford's attitude seemed to hold her at a distance. She could not imagine what she had done to displease him, if displeasure was the cause of his changed mood.

The girl, simple-minded though she was, was not shallow. She began to examine her own heart. Why should she care so much about Helmford's attitude? Aside from her love for books and interest in his library and conversation, just what hold had Joe Helmford upon Pearl Holden's mind and heart?

Of course she had felt a certain delight in having a well-dressed, well-mannered young man, so different from the loutish Tom, about the house. She responded to a man's attentions just as any other girl might.

But she had held no foolish thoughts in her heart--or so she imagined--until now. She respected Mr. Helmford. Did she, indeed, have another and heretofore unsuspected feeling for him?

Love, to Pearl's mind, was something to hide away and cherish until the moment came when two hearts, bursting the fetters of form and custom, should each to the other reveal those depths of feeling from which the world at large is to be excluded.

Was she in love with Joe Helmford? Was that why the change in his manner so hurt and surprised her? Had she suddenly become so sensitive that his lightest word or act meant the disturbance of her peace of mind?

Pearl Holden could not put this suspicion away. It ate into her mind like acid. Despite the bitter thoughts and tears Sarah Petty's treatment for years had caused her, never had Pearl felt the heartache that now assailed her. She was oppressed with a weight of woe. The waters of bitterness overflowed her eyes when she was alone and she was exceedingly sorrowful.

As it chanced, this was the day for the regular meeting of the Ladies' Aid Society, the last before the holidays. Sarah must attend, but she left certain directions for Pearl which so amazed the young girl that she had something besides her own sorrows to think of.

At this time of the year the "front room" was closed tight for the winter. It was an airless catacomb in which every article was draped in muslin, including the pictures on the wall and an oval glass on the mantelpiece under which was what had once been a cluster of wax fruit and flowers, but which, during the heat of some twenty summers, had melted and partially run together, until its classification as a work of art was rather difficult.

There was, too, a large base-burner, all trimmed with shiny nickel, and in which a fire had been built since it was set up in the Petty parlor not more than three times. Sarah Petty believed in buying and making a display of the best furnishings obtainable; but such display had only been made on two occasions when the Heath twins and their families had come to Cardhaven, and once when by some freak of fortune the local Conference had sent a real bishop to stay overnight in Sarah Petty's house.

However, before starting on this day for the important meeting of the Ladies' Aid, her mistress had instructed Pearl to open the parlor, or "front room," as it was better known, to dust, and to shake every "tidy" and "throw" decorating the furniture, to remove the muslin coverings, and to lay a fire in the base-burner.

"Comp'ny!" thought Pearl, after asking Sarah twice to repeat her orders. "Land's sake! I wonder who it can be?"

If Tom knew he would give her no hint. Tom was so angry with Pearl now that he would not even smile at her when he brought in the kindling and the brass hod of coal to stand beside the shiny stove.

Retreating to the barn again by the exit of the kitchen door, Tom heard from above a peremptory tapping on the window of Cap'n Jonah's room. He looked up. The old man, in his nightcap, beckoned to him energetically.

"What does the old fool want now, I wonder," muttered Tom.

Then bethinking him that his great-uncle might be moved to make him another gift of money, the lout slouched into the house, and mounted to that loft room over the kitchen.