Part 24 (1/2)
”Oh, no, Mrs. Mac! It's not Neale,” half sobbed Agnes. ”I know who it is. It's that awful junkman!”
”A junkman?” repeated Mrs. McCall. ”At this time o' night? We've naethin' tae sellit him. The impudence!”
She rose, quite determined to drive the importunate junkman away.
CHAPTER XIX--THE HOUSE IS HAUNTED
”Why do ye fash yoursel' so?” demanded Mrs. McCall in growing wonder and exasperation. ”Let me see the foolish man.”
She approached the window and raised the shade sharply. Then she hoisted the sash itself. But Costello, the junkman, was gone.
”There is naebody here,” she complained, looking out on the side porch.
”But he _was_ there! You saw him,” faintly declared Agnes.
”He was nae ghost, if that's what you mean,” said the housekeeper dryly. ”But what and who is he? A junkman? How do you come to know junkmen, la.s.sie?”
”I only know that junkman,” explained Agnes.
”Aye?” The housekeeper's eyes as well as her voice was sharp. ”And when did you make his acquaintance? Costello, d'you say?”
”So he said his name was. He--he is one of the Gypsies, I do believe!”
”Gypsies! The idea! Is the house surrounded by Gypsies?”
”I don't know, Mrs. McCall,” said Agnes faintly. ”I only know they are giving us a lot of trouble.”
”Who are?”
”The Gypsies.”
”Hear the la.s.s!” exclaimed the troubled housekeeper. ”Who ever heard the like? Why should Gypsies give us any trouble? Is it that bit bracelet the bairns play wi'? Then throw it out and let the Gypsies have it.”
”But that would not be right, would it, Mrs. McCall?” demanded the troubled girl. ”If--if the bracelet belongs to them--”
”Hech! To this junkman?”
”He claims it,” confessed Agnes.
”Tut, tut! What is going on here that I do not know about?” demanded the Scotch woman with deeper interest.
She closed the window, drew the shade again, and returned to her seat.
She stared at Agnes rather sternly over her gla.s.ses.
”Come now, my la.s.s,” said the housekeeper, ”what has been going on so slyly here? I never heard of any Costello, junkman or not. Who is he?
What does he want, peering in at a body's windows at night?”
Agnes told the whole story then--and managed to tell it clearly enough for the practical woman to gain a very good idea of the whole matter.
”Of course,” was her comment, grimly said, ”you and that Neale could not let well enough alone. You never can. If you had not advertised the bit bracelet, this junkman would not have troubled you.”