ar of the store. Behind the desk Bob West
sat upon his high stool, gravely regarding his unusual customers over
the rims of his spectacles.

"Good morning," said Louise, taking the lead. "Have you a stew pan?"

The merchant left the office and silently walked behind the counter.

"Large or small, miss?" he then asked.

The girls became interested in stew pans, which they were scarcely able
to recognize by their official name. Mr. West offered no comment as they
made their selection.

"Can you send this to the Wegg farm?" asked Louise, opening her purse to
make payment.

West smiled.

"I have no means of delivering goods," said he; "but if you can wait a
day or two I may catch some farmer going that way who will consent
to take it."

"Oh. Didn't Captain Wegg purchase his supplies in the village?" asked
the girl.

"Some of them. But it is our custom here to take goods that we purchase
home with us. As yet Millville is scarcely large enough to require a
delivery wagon."

The nieces laughed pleasantly, and Beth said:

"Are you an old inhabitant, Mr. West?"

"I have been here thirty-five years."

"Then you knew Captain Wegg?" Louise ventured.

"Very well."

The answer was so frank and free from embarrassment that his questioner
hesitated. Here was a man distinctly superior to the others they had
interviewed, a man of keen intellect and worldly knowledge, who would be
instantly on his guard if he suspected they were cross-examining him. So
Louise, with her usual tact, decided to speak plainly.

"We have been much interested in the history of the Wegg family," she
remarked, easily; "and perhaps it is natural for us to speculate
concerning the characters of our predecessors. It was so odd that
Captain Wegg should build so good a house on such a poor farm."

"Yes."

"And he was a sea captain, who retired far from the sea, which he must
have loved."

"To be sure."

"It made him dissatisfied, they say, as well as surly and unsociable;
but he stuck it out even after his poor wife died, and until the day of
the murder."

"Murder?" in a tone of mild surprise.

"Was it not murder?" she asked, quickly.

He gave his shoulders a quiet shrug.

"The physician pronounced it heart disease, I believe."

"What physician?"

"Eh? Why, one who was fishing in the neighborhood for trout, and staying
at the hotel. Old Dr. Jackson was in Huntington at the time, I
remember."

The girls exchanged significant glanc