Part 24 (2/2)

”But we thought it ought to be advertised,” murmured Agnes in defense.

”Aye, aye! Ye thought mooch I've nae doot. And to little good purpose.

Well, 'tis a matter for Mr. Howbridge now, sure enough. And what he'll say--”

”But I hope that Costello does not come to the house again,” ventured the girl, in some lingering alarm.

”You or Neale go to Mr. Howbridge's clerk in the morning and tell him.

He should tell the police of this crazy man. A Gypsy, too, you say?”

”I think he must be. The bracelet seems to be a bone of contention between two branches of the Gypsy tribe. If it belonged to that old Queen Alma--”

”Fiddle-faddle!” exclaimed the housekeeper. ”Who ever heard of a queen among those dirty Gypsies? 'Tis foolishness.”

The fact that Costello, the junkman, was lingering about the old Corner House was not to be denied. They saw him again before bedtime.

Uncle Rufus had gone to bed and Linda was so easily frightened that Mrs. McCall did not want to tell her.

So the housekeeper grabbed a broom and started out on the side porch with the avowed intention of ”breaking the besom over the chiel's head!” But the lurker refused to be caught and darted away into the shadows. And all without making a sound, or revealing in any way what his intention might be.

Mrs. McCall and the trembling Agnes went all about the house, locking each lower window, and of course all the doors. Tom Jonah, the old Newfoundland dog, slept out of doors these warm nights, and sometimes wandered away from the premises.

”We ought to have Buster, Sammy Pinkney's bulldog, over here. Then that horrid man would not dare come into the yard,” Agnes said.

”You might as well turn that old billy-goat loose,” sniffed Mrs.

McCall. ”He'd do little more harm than that bull pup--and nae more good, either.”

They went to bed--earlier than usual, perhaps. And that may be the reason why Agnes could not sleep. She considered the possibility of Costello's climbing up the porch posts to the roof, and so reaching the second story windows.

”If he is going to haunt the house like this,” Agnes declared to the housekeeper in the morning, ”let us make Neale come here and stay at night.”

”That lad?” returned the housekeeper, who had no very exalted opinion of boys in any case--no more than had Ruth. ”Haven't we all troubles enough, I want to know? This is a case for the police. You go tell Mr.

Howbridge's clerk about the Gypsy, that is what you do.”

But Agnes would not do even that without taking Neale into her confidence. Neale at once was up in arms when he heard of the lurking junkman. He declared he would come over and hide in the closet on the Kenways' back porch and try to catch the man if he appeared again at night.

”He is a very strong man, Neale,” objected Agnes. ”And he might have a knife, too. You know, those Gypsies are awfully fierce-tempered.”

”I don't know that he is,” objected Neale. ”He looked to me like just plain crazy.”

”Well, you come down to the office with me,” commanded Agnes. ”I don't even want to meet that excitable Costello man on the street when I am alone.”

”I suppose you are scared, Aggie. But I don't think he would really hurt you. Come on!”

So they went down to Mr. Howbridge's office again and interviewed the clerk, telling him first of all of the appearance of the junkman the night before.

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