The heirs, whoever they were, pretty near tore the insides out of the house, they say, looking for coin, but they didn't get any thing."

"And at night the old codger's ghost walks around," added Lee; "and if you follow him, he'll take you to the place the money's hidden."

"Honest?" exclaimed Starling, joyfully. "Gosh, that's great! I always wanted to live in a house with a ghost."

"I'm sorry, then," said George, "for I just made that part up."

"_You_ did?" Lee looked incredulous. "Where do you come in? I've heard that ever since I came here."

"No, sir; you may have heard the rest of the story, but not the part about the ghost. I wrote the yarn up in my junior year for an English comp., and tacked on the ghost feature as a sort of added climax. Got good marks, too, and the Orstead paper published the thing. I'll show it to you, if you like."

Lee looked unconvinced still, and Starling disappointed. "Well, it's a good story, anyway, and makes the place more interesting. Some day I'll have a look myself for the hidden millions."

"Guess the old chap never had that much," said George. "Thirty or forty thousand is about what he was supposed to have salted away."

"Scarcely worth bothering about," observed Laurie, with a yawn.

"But look here, what became of the servant?" asked Starling. "Maybe he got the dough and made off with it."

"Lots of folks thought that," replied George; "but the theory didn't pan out for a cent. The negro stuck around here for quite a while and then ambled off somewhere. He claimed that old Coventry died owing him a month's wages, and tried to get some one to pay him, but I guess he never got any of it, if it was really owing."

"Where did he go to?" asked Starling.

"I don't know. New York City, I think."

"I'll bet he either had the money or knew where it was," declared Starling, with conviction. "Don't you see, fellows, he did just what any one would do in his case? He stuck around so he wouldn't be suspected.

If he'd gone right off, folks would have said he was trying to avoid being asked about the money. And then he faked up the yarn about the old gentleman owing him wages. A first-cla.s.s detective would have got trace of the coin, I'll wager!"

"You've been reading _Sherlock Holmes_," laughed Lee. "Why don't you follow up your clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth to the starving heirs?"

"Huh! If he did get the money, he's where even _Sherlock Holmes_ wouldn't find him by this time. Some one should have followed the fellow and kept watch on him right then. How old was he, Watson?"

"About fifty, I guess. They say he had white whiskers, anyway. Oh, he didn't know any more than he said he did. He was all right. He had been with old Coventry for years and years, one of those old-time family servants, you know, honest and faithful. Why, he went on something fierce when the old chap died!"

"Say, how much of this guff is real and how much of it is English composition?" asked Lee, suspiciously. "How do you know the negro took on when the old codger died? You weren't here."

"Maybe I heard it," replied George, grinning.

"Yes, and maybe you just made it up, like the stuff about the ghost,"

Lee retorted sarcastically. "I've heard the yarn two or three times, but I never heard that the negro had white whiskers or that he went into mourning!"

"It's a fact, though," declared the other, warmly. "I prepared mighty well on that comp.; talked with half a dozen persons who knew the story.

Got most of the stuff from the Widow Deane, though. Old Coventry had been dead only about two years then and folks were still talking about him. The Widow doesn't think the old chap had nearly as much money as he was supposed to have."

"She has the little store around on the back street?" asked Starling.

"Yes. She took that as her share."

"Her share of what?" demanded Lee.

"Why, of the estate. Old Coventry owned the whole half-block right through from Walnut Street to Pine. She rented that house from him until he died; paid a good stiff price, too; and then, when the estate was finally settled, she took it as her share, although she had to pay the other heirs something because they claimed that it was worth more than she had a right to."

"Look here," said Lee, "do you mean that the Widow Deane was one of old Coventry's heirs?"

"Of course! Didn't you know it? She was a half-sister. She lived over in New Jersey, she told me, until her husband died. Then she wrote to old Coventry, asking him to help her because she didn't have much money, and he invited her to come here. She thought he meant to give her a home with him; but when she got here, the best he would do was rent her that little house around on Pine Street and stock it up for her as a store.

Then he built a fence between the two places. It used to be open right through."

"Gee, you certainly know a lot of ancient history!" marveled Lee.

"I believe in being thorough," laughed George. "When I tackle a subject I get a fall out of it."

"So when I trail the murderer-I mean the thief," reflected Starling, "I'll be doing the old lady back there a good turn, won't I?"

"Surest thing you know!" agreed George.

"And she needs the money, I guess. I don't believe she makes a fortune out of that emporium. And that daughter of hers is a nice kid, too."

"How many other heirs are there to share in the money when Starling finds it?" asked Laurie.

"I don't know. Quite a bunch, I believe. The old chap wasn't married, and the heirs are nephews and nieces and things like that. The Widow's the only one living around here, though."

"Well, when I do find it," laughed Starling, "I'll keep it quiet and hand it all over to the Widow."

"He wants to make a hit with Polly," said Lee. "He's a fox."

"I've never seen her," Starling denied.

"Well, she's a mighty pretty girl," George avowed. "If you don't believe me, ask Nod."

Laurie looked intensely innocent and very surprised. "Why me?" he asked blandly.

George shook his head, grinning. "You can't get away with it, son! Think I didn't see you making love to the old lady this afternoon?"

"Well," Laurie laughed, "I thought it was Polly you spoke of."

"Sure, but she was busy waiting on a bunch of juniors and so you made up to the Widow. We saw you smirking and talking sweet to her, didn't we, Lee? b.u.t.ter wouldn't have melted in the dear lamb's mouth. And I thought the old lady seemed rather taken with him, too; didn't you, Lee?"

"Rather! It was positively sickening! Talk about foxes-"

"Oh, dry up and blow away!" muttered Laurie. "Say, the rain's stopped now-pretty nearly."

"Wants to get away from the embarra.s.sing subject," George confided to Starling. "Well, I never desert a pal, Nod. Come on, we'll trot along.

Much obliged for taking us in, Starling. Hope we haven't ruined your rug. Half-past three to-morrow, if the courts are dry. I'll meet you in School Hall."

"Glad to have you drop around at my room some time," said Lee. "I'm in West; Number 7."

"Same here," added Laurie; "16 East Hall. Thanks, Starling."

"You're welcome. Come in again, fellows. When I get that tennis-court fixed up, we'll have some fun here. You needn't wait for that, though.