"When property be left this way, volks sometimes share and share alike; or they sells the stuff, and each takes half the money," continued Robert.

"Kezia won't neither sell nor share. She'll bide quiet till Miss Sophy dies, and then she'll see a lawyer," declared Bessie.

"Our bits o' paper are as gude as hers."

"Kezia would sooner lose everything than see us take any little old bit of stuff. She'm a spiteful toad."

"The nicest thing we can do, Bess, is to go on shifting, one bit now and agin. Kezia won't notice nothing, if us takes 'em gradual."

"Where can us hide them?" asked Bessie. "We can't put 'em over in the cottage. Kezia ain't such a vule as you think. If I wur to take a kitchen spine she'd miss it."

"She never found out about the last lot," Robert reminded her.

"Policeman went away sudden and forgot to tell her. We'll have to shift those things, vor rainy weather'll be starting soon, and that musical box will spoil inside the peatstack."

"I'll get 'em out avore they comes back home; I b'ain't ashamed of claiming what be rightly ours. I told policeman we'd took what belonged to us, and he said 'twas all right this time, but us mustn't do it too often. I'm going to shift a few more pieces across the way in a day or two."

"Best wait till Miss Sophy dies," said Bessie nervously.

"We'll let the big furniture bide till then. Where's Miss Sophy going to be buried?"

"Somewhere in London, she ses. Said she wouldn't be buried here if they paid her vor it."

"That's got it!" cried Robert. "When Kezia goes to the funeral, I'll shift the furniture."

"Don't that seem like trying to get the better of her?"

"Ain't she trying to deprive us of our rightful property? Don't she want to see me and you cut off wi' a fry pan? See what's wrote on this paper--'I want Bessie to have all the furniture in the spare bedroom.'

And on this one--'all the furniture in the dining room.' And on this here--'all the stuff in the kitchen.' Ain't that clear?"

"Sure enough," said Bessie.

"Then there's the house and garden; worth a thousand pounds, I reckon."

"It seems as how Mrs. Drake never left the place to no one, unless it wur to Miss Sophy. But, I tell ye, Kezia means to have it."

"Parson had best keep his eyes open, or she'll slip off wi' the church,"

said Robert grimly.

"If Miss Sophy ha' got it, 'tis only vor her life. She can't keep it afterwards," explained Bessie. "So Nellie can't get it, and Mr. George ain't to have nothing, and I'll watch Kezia don't have it, though I wouldn't mind letting her the attic where they keeps the boxes."

"What about Mr. Percy!"

"Well, there! I never thought of him. But the house belonged to Captain Drake, and he didn't like Mr. Percy, so it don't seem right the place should go to him."

"Mr. George would know."

"'Tis him, I fancy, who's been knocking such a lot," said Bessie.

"Go and let 'en in," directed Robert. "He can't do us any harm, and he may do us a bit of gude."

Bessie obeyed, and George entered, beaming in the most sunny fashion, a.s.suring the Mudges he too had frequently been deluded into the belief that a loose branch had been tapping against the door, when in reality somebody was knocking and ringing. It was a mistake, he thought, to plant umbrageous perennials so close to the front doorstep, which had been nicely purified since Miss Teenie stood upon it. Their plan of acting the part of caretakers with the thoroughness of ownership he commended highly; as, with autumn approaching, it was necessary to keep the house warm and the furniture dry; and the only satisfactory way of doing so was for Robert to smoke his pipe in the parlour while Bessie reclined upon the easy chairs which, he went on to suggest, would be her own some day.

"Us might as well take t'em now as wait vor 'em, Robert ses," replied Bessie, delighted at the geniality of her visitor. "Won't you sit down, Mr. George, and make yourself comfortable? I was surprised to hear you had gone to Mrs. Dyer's. I'd have asked ye to come here, if I'd known you wur going to stay."

"Thank you very much," said George simply. "I should have been far more comfortable here; but I am not making a long stay, and I felt sure you would be wanting to turn out these rooms."

"Kezia said you weren't coming back again," observed Robert, hoping to obtain raw material for gossip.

"What do she know?" snapped Bessie.

"Nothing," replied George. "I had to come back on business in connection with the railway. You see, I'm civil engineer to the company, and I have to prepare a report."

"They did say you had given up the railway," remarked Bessie, beginning to understand the politeness of George's manner, although she did not know why engineers had to be more civil than other people.

"That railway has been in the air a long time, but I shall never rest until I've made it," said George with energy. "Everything is arranged now except a few preliminary details, such as issuing the prospectus, collecting the money, and obtaining of Parliamentary powers. I have an idea of turning this garden into the terminus, and making the house the station. This will make a good waiting room, while the dining room can be converted into the booking office. The station-master and his family can live upstairs. I shall be station-master, as well as general manager."

Bessie gulped and Robert whistled.

"Your cottage will do for a goods' station. I shall build a platform round it, put up a crane--"

"What about the street?" cried Robert.

"I shall divert that, if necessary. If I find the church is in my way, it must come down."

"But you won't start till Miss Sophy dies. Mrs. Drake said nothing wur to happen till Miss Sophy died," said Bessie.

"We can't possibly wait for her. We have got to make progress," replied George firmly.

"What about Mr. Percy?" asked the crafty Robert.

"What has he got to do with our affairs?"

"Ain't he to have the house and garden?"

"The whole of this property belongs to me, and Miss Sophy is my tenant,"

replied the far more crafty George; for this was the question he had been leading up to.

"Kezia won't have it anyhow," Robert muttered with satisfaction, removing his boots from the sofa. He wanted to go out into the village and talk.

"You never did tell us much about that paper what Mrs. Drake left vor you," said Bessie reproachfully.

"It was just an ordinary will, leaving me some money and the house. She couldn't deprive me of that, as the property belonged to my uncle, and he made her promise I should have it. If you don't believe me, you can ask Miss Blisland," George added lightly.

"Of course we believes you. I always thought it funny Mrs. Drake shouldn't have left you nothing," said Bessie.

"What do you think she meant to do about the furniture, sir?" asked Robert boldly.

"Ah, that's a troublesome question," said George cautiously.