As they were nearing the cabin Artie called to Westy: “I’m looking
forward,” he said, “with delight to having Ollie bring our mail twice a
week. We couldn’t have a more pleasant visitor and I hope he comes
early, so he’ll have time to tell us all the news, don’t you?”
“Yeh,” answered Westy, “he’s too talkative to suit me. I’m afraid he’ll
annoy Uncle Jeb’s neighbors.”
“They might move or even threaten to have Uncle Jeb evicted for allowing
such noisy people on his premises.”
“I reckon Ollie ain’t sech a bad sort, boys, if I’m any jedge of human
naitchur and I think I am. No one hain’t ever fooled me yit, and at my
age I don’t think I’m likely ter be fooled. All Ollie Baxter asks in
life is a good home ’n he has thet with Ol’ Pop sure enough. Why, Pop
hasn’t a relative in the world and that’s what Ollie likes about staying
with him. Nobuddy to bother him.”
“Well, but listen, Uncle Jeb,” said Westy, his interest now thoroughly
aroused. “Doesn’t Ol’ Pop make quite a lot of money during the summer
season?”
“Yes, indeedy, son,” he answered, chuckling, “and thar hain’t a livin’
soul knows whar he keeps it. All the folks aroun’ are thet curious to
know jes’ what he does with his money. I even heard say thet thar are
some who call him eccentric. Durn busybodies, thet’s what I call sech
folks. Tain’t any one’s affairs what he does with his money.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Artie seriously, “but it may be people are
afraid some harm will come to him during the long winter months, when he
is alone there except for Ollie. Hoarding money is a dangerous practice.
I should think he’d prefer putting it in the bank anyway so it would
draw some interest for him.”
“Listen to the young banker!” Westy teased. “I bet you’ll never let your
money get rusty in the ground!”
“Not while there’s banks to put it in,” Artie retorted. “Believe me, I’m
no believer in this Captain Kidd stuff anyway. It always causes a lot of
trouble; people even killing one another trying to find it. You always
read that in books and in the end no one finds it after all.”
“Who can tell but what Ol’ Pop will die some day without having the
chance to tell any one where it is,” Westy cheerfully added.
“’Tain’t likely Ol’ Pop will die for a long time yit,” Uncle Jeb said,
touched with the evident concern of the boys for his old friend.
“Barrin’ accident he’s good fer twenty year at least, so thar’s no need
to worry. I spec when he gets ready he’ll tell me.”
“Let’s hope so, anyway,” Westy said as if quite willing to consign the
subject to the mercy of Fate for a while.