and an acid expression.
"I hope not," she answered. "I hope I don't look like an insipid doll."
"You certainly don't, Sally; you have expression enough, I am sure."
"Do you think Mrs. Burton pretty?" asked Sally, suspiciously.
"Oh, so so!" answered Aaron, guardedly; for he did not care to reveal the secret to his sister at present. She was useful to him as a housekeeper, and moreover (an important point) she was very economical; more so than any person whom he could hire. He did indeed pay his sister, but only a dollar a week, and out of this she saved nearly one half, having the gift of economy in quite as large a measure as himself.
This assurance, and her brother's indifferent tone, relieved Sally from her momentary suspicion. Yet, had she been able to read her brother's secret thoughts, she would have been a prey to anxiety. He had made up his mind, if ever he did marry Mrs. Burton, to give Sally her walking-ticket.
"I can't afford to support two women," he reflected, "and my wife ought to be able to do all the work in so small a household."
"Why are you so anxious to know whether any of the Burtons have been here?"
"I thought they might come," answered her brother, evasively. "You haven't seen anything of that black imp, Clip, have you?"
"No; has he any business with you?"
"I have some business with him," snarled Wolverton. "He played a trick on me this morning."
"What sort of a trick?"
"I got him to carry me across the creek in his boat, and he managed to upset me."
"Did he do it a-purpose?"
"Yes; he laughed like a hyena when he saw me floundering in the water."
"If he comes round here, I'll give him a lesson. I can't abide a nigger any way. They're as lazy as sin, and they ain't got no more sense than a monkey. It's my opinion they are a kind of monkey, any way."
Fortunately for the colored race all are not so prejudiced against them as Sally Wolverton – otherwise they would be in a bad case.
"By the way, Sally, have you seen a stray paper about the floor in my room?" asked Wolverton, with assumed carelessness.
"What sort of a paper was it?"
"It was a – a receipt," answered her brother, hesitating.
"What kind of a receipt – from whom?" asked Sally, who possessed her share of general curiosity.
"That isn't to the point. If you have seen such a paper, or picked it up, I shall feel relieved. I might have to pay the money over again if I don't find it."
This was misrepresenting the matter, but Wolverton did not think it expedient to give his sister a clew to so delicate a secret.
"No; I have seen no paper," she said shortly, not relishing his evasive reply. "Have you searched your desk?"
"Yes."
"And didn't find it?"
"No."
"Suppose I look. Four eyes are better than two."
"No, thank you, Sally," answered her brother, hastily. "I am particular about not having my papers disturbed."
Aaron Wolverton would have gained some valuable information touching the missing paper if he could have transferred himself at that moment to Burton's Ranch.
Bob and Clip were out in the yard when Sam Wolverton made his appearance, breathless and excited.
"What's the matter, Sam?" asked Bob, wondering.
"Let me catch my breath," gasped Sam. "I – I've got some good news."
"Then you are welcome. Has your uncle got married?"
"No; nor aunt Sally either," replied Sam. "What do you say to that?" and he drew from his vest pocket a long strip of paper.
"What's that?" asked Bob, eagerly.
"It's the receipt", answered Sam.
CHAPTER IX
SAM'S GIFT
"What!" exclaimed Bob, in great excitement. "Not the receipt for the money?"
"That's just what it is," answered Sam, nodding emphatically.
"Let me see it."
Sam put the paper in Bob's hand.
There it was in regular form, a receipt for one hundred and fifty dollars, being the semi-annual interest on a mortgage on Burton's Ranch, dated on the day of Richard Burton's death, and signed by Aaron Wolverton.
"Hurrah!" shouted Bob, waving it aloft. "Then father did pay it, after all, and that mean scoundrel – excuse my speaking of your uncle in such terms, Sam – "
"I don't mind," said Sam, philosophically.
"That mean scoundrel wanted us to pay the money a second time. I'm ever so much obliged to you, Sam. But where on earth did you find it?"
"I'll tell you, Bob," answered Sam, perching himself on the fence. "This forenoon Uncle Aaron started out on business – I don't know where he went."
"I know," said Clip, giving way to a burst of merriment.
"How do you know?"
"I rowed him across de creek. I was out in de boat when old Massa Wolverton come along and axed me to take him across. I made him pay me a nickel, and he got into de boat," and Clip began to laugh once more.
"I don't see anything to laugh at, Clip."
"You would, massa Bob, ef you'd been dar. We was almost across when de old boat upset, yah! yah! and old Massa Wolverton – it makes me laugh like to split – tumbled into de water, and got wet as a drownded rat."
"Clip, you bad boy, you did it on purpose," said Bob, trying to look stern.
"Wish I may die!" asseverated Clip, stoutly, for he was not an imitator of George Washington. "Didn't de old man look mad, dough? He jest shook his fist at me, and called me a black imp, 'deed he did."
"I am afraid he was right, Clip," said Bob, shaking his head. "But you haven't told me about the receipt, Sam."
"He sent me into his room to get his hat, when right down on the floor by his desk, I saw a piece of paper. I remembered what you told me, Bob, about the receipt, so I picked it up and slipped it into my pocket. I had to be quick about it, for Uncle Aaron is always in a hurry. Well, I took out the hat, and I didn't dare to take out the paper and look at it till he was out of sight."
"And then – "
"Well, then I saw it was the paper you wanted."
"Mr. Wolverton took it from the pocket of my poor father when he lay dead on the spot where he was thrown out," said Bob, gravely. "It would be hard to think of a meaner piece of rascality."
"Well,
