For, a minute the three stood silent, peering through the iron bars. 

 "And the worst of it is," went on the young man irritably, "he could give us such good things to eat." 

 "It doesn't look it," said the girl. 

 "I know," continued the man in the same eager whisper.  "But—who was it was telling me? Some doctor I know who came down to see him. He said Carey does himself awfully well, has the house full of bully pictures, and the family plate, and wonderful collections—things he picked up in the East—gold ornaments, and jewels, and jade." 

 "I shouldn't think,"  said the girl in the same hushed voice, "they would let him live so far from any neighbors with such things in the house. Suppose burglars——" 

 "Burglars! Burglars would never hear of this place. How could they?—Even his friends think it's just a private madhouse." 

 The girl shivered and drew back from the gate. 

 Fred coughed apologetically. 

 "I'VE heard of it," he volunteered.  "There was a piece in the Sunday Post. It said he eats his dinner in a diamond crown, and all the walls is gold, and two monkeys wait on table with gold——" 

 "Nonsense!" said the man sharply.  "He eats like any one else and dresses like any one else. How far is the well from the house?" 

 "It's purty near," said the chauffeur. 

 "Pretty near the house, or pretty near here?" 

 "Just outside the kitchen; and it makes a creaky noise." 

 "You mean you don't want to go?" 

 Fred's answer was unintelligible. 

 "You wait here with Miss Forbes," said the young man.  "And I'll get the water." 

 "Yes, sir!" said Fred, quite distinctly. 

 "No, sir!" said Miss Forbes, with equal distinctness.  "I'm not going to be left here alone—with all these trees. I'm going with you." 

 Prev. P 26/59 next