Part 31 (2/2)
”Young Joe Bodley, of the Lake View Inn.”
”Joe Bodley! Why, he was abed when them coins was stolen--I know that,” blurted out the druggist, very much disappointed. ”Lem Parraday 'tends bar himself forenoons, for Joe's allus up till past midnight.
You know that, Walky.”
”Ya-as--f'r sure,” agreed the expressman. ”But one o' these here magazine deteckatiffs might be able ter hook up Joe with them missin'
coins, jes' the same. Mebbe he's a sernamb'list,” suggested, Walky, with a sly grin.
”A _what_?” demanded Ma.s.sey, with a startled look. ”He's an Odd Feller, an' a Son o' Jethro. I don't know what other lodges he b'longs to.”
”Jefers-pelters!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Walky, ”who's talkin' about lodges? I mean mebbe Joe walks in his sleep. He might ha' stole them coins when he was sernamb'latin' about----”
The druggist snorted. ”That's some o' your funny business, I s'pose, Walky Dexter. If you stood ter lose four hundred dollars you wouldn't chuckle none about it, I'm bound.”
”Mebbe that's so,” admitted Walky. ”But I dunno's I'd go around suspectin' everybody there was of stealin' that money. Caesar's wife--er was it his darter?--wouldn't 'scape suspicion in your mind, Mr. Ma.s.sey.”
”By hickory!” exclaimed the exasperated druggist, ”I'd suspect my own grandmother!”
”Sure ye would--ef ye thought by so doin' ye'd escape payin' out four hundred dollars! Hay! haw! haw!” laughed the expressman. ”Ye ac'
right fullish, Ma.s.sey. All sorts of money is pa.s.sed over that bar. I seen a feller count out forty pennies there t'other day for a flask of whiskey: an' I bet he'd either robbed his baby's bank, or the missionary-fund box. Haw! haw! haw!”
”You can laugh,” began the druggist, looking sour enough, when Walky broke in again:
”Sure I can. It's lucky I can, too. If I couldn't laff at most of the folks that live in this town, I'd be tempted ter commit sooicide--that's right! And you air one of the most amusin' of the lot, Ma.s.sey. Them other committeemen run ye a clost second.”
”Oh! I can't stop here and fool with you all day, Walky Dexter,”
snapped the druggist, pretty well worked up by now. ”I tell ye this gold piece is a clue----”
”Mebbe,” said Walky. ”Mebbe 'tis a clue. But I reckon it's what them magazine deteckatifs call a blind clue. Haw! haw! haw! An' afore ye git anywhere with it, it'll proberbly go on crutches an' be deef an'
dumb inter the bargain!”
Ma.s.sey did not look as though he enjoyed these gibes much. ”I'll go down an' see Joe,” he grunted. ”Mebbe he'll know something about it.”
”I hope you do not expect to find that I spent that ten dollar gold piece at the Inn bar,” said Nelson, bitterly.
”Well! I'll find out how it got into Joe's hands,” growled Ma.s.sey.
”If Joe tells you,” chuckled Walky. ”An' do stop for yer hat, Ma.s.sey.
You'll ketch yer death o' dampness.”
The druggist had opened a fruitful subject for speculation. Those he left behind in the store were eagerly interested. Indeed, Janice and Nelson could not fail to be excited by the occurrence, and the latter rode home with Janice in the car to talk the matter over with Uncle Jason.
”Of course,” the schoolmaster said, when the family was a.s.sembled in the sitting room of the old Day house, ”_that_ gold piece may not be one of those stolen at all. There are plenty of ten dollar gold pieces in circulation.”
”Not in Polktown!” exclaimed Uncle Jason.
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