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Ruth and Agnes were speechless. Mrs. Treble was more pa.s.sionate than she had ever been before.
"I shall tear this ugly old house down-that's what I'll do," Mrs.
Treble declared. "I'll raze it to the ground--"
Aunt Sarah suddenly advanced into the hall. Her black eyes flashed as though there were sparks in them.
"You will do _what_?" she asked, in a low, hoa.r.s.e voice.
"I'll tear down the house. It is no good."
"This beautiful old house!" groaned Agnes, forgetting about the ghost at that moment.
Aunt Sarah's wrath was rising. It broke the bonds she had put upon her tongue so many years before.
"You will tear this house down?" she repeated. "Niece Ruth! is there any chance of this woman getting control of Peter's property?"
"We don't know," said Ruth desperately. "If we can't find Uncle Peter's will that Mr. Howbridge made, and which leaves the estate to you and us girls, Aunt Sarah-"
"There never was such a will," put in Mrs. Treble.
"Mr. Howbridge says there was. He thinks Mr. Stower must have hidden it away with other papers, somewhere in the house--"
"And I know where," said Aunt Sarah, speaking out at last. "Peter never thought I knew where he hid things. But I did. You gals come with me."
She stalked toward the stairs that led upward. Ruth and Agnes, half awed by her manner and speech, followed her. So did Mrs. Treble.
Aunt Sarah went directly to the garret. Agnes forgot to be scared of the ghost they had seen from outside, in her interest in this affair.
Aunt Sarah went to the old secretary, or desk, standing in the middle of the garret floor.
"Oh, we've looked all through _that_," whispered Agnes.
"You did not look in the right place," said Aunt Sarah.
Quite calmly she tapped with her fingers upon a panel in one end of the old desk. In a moment the panel dropped down, leaving in view a very narrow depository for papers. It was crammed with doc.u.ments of several different kinds.
Mrs. Treble sprang forward, with a cry. But Aunt Sarah got in front of her. She seized her skirts with both hands and advanced upon the lady from Ypsilanti with belligerence.
"Shoo!" said Aunt Sarah. "Shoo!"
As Mrs. Treble retreated, Aunt Sarah advanced, and, as though she were "shooing" a refractory chicken, she drove the lady from Ypsilanti out of the garret and closed the door firmly in her face.
CHAPTER XXV
LAYING THE GHOST
Mr. Howbridge came by request to the Corner House the next morning.
Ruth had slept all night with the papers found in the old secretary under her pillow.
Mr. Howbridge came into the dining-room where the four Corner House girls were a.s.sembled, smiling and evidently in right good humor. "I understand you have made a wonderful discovery, Miss Kenway?" he said.
"It was Aunt Sarah," said Agnes, excitedly. "_She_ knew where the papers were."
"Indeed?" said the lawyer, interested.
"We have found some of Uncle Peter's papers, that is sure," said Ruth.
"And among them is one that I think must be the will you spoke of."
"Good! we shall hope it is the paper we have been looking for," said Mr. Howbridge, accepting the packet Ruth handed him. "And _I_ have made a discovery, too."
"What is that, sir?" asked Ruth, politely.
"It refers to Mrs. Treble's claim to the estate of Mr. Peter Stower."
"If little Lillie bears any relationship to Uncle Peter, she must have her just share of the estate. We could agree to nothing else," Ruth hastened to say.
"Oh, Ruth!" exclaimed Agnes.
Mr. Howbridge adjusted his gla.s.ses and looked at Ruth quizzically.
"Miss Kenway," he said, "you are a remarkable girl. Lillie Treble is the daughter of John Augustus Treble, without a doubt. _His_ mother went west from Milton, years ago, as is claimed. But she was _not_ Peter Stower's sister."
"Oh, goody!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Agnes, clapping her hands.
"Who was she?" asked Ruth.
Mr. Howbridge laughed softly. "She was the sister of a man named Peter _Stover_. The names are similar, but there is a difference of one letter-and many other differences, it seems. Peter Stover was a poor man all his days. He was an 'odd job' man most of his life, working about the farms on the outskirts of Milton, until he grew infirm. He died last winter at the poorfarm.
"Mrs. Bean, even, remembers the name right now. These Trebles evidently heard of the wealth of your Uncle Peter, and thought he was _their_ Uncle Peter. The names were so much alike, you see."
"Then-then Mrs. Treble and Lillie have no claim upon Uncle Peter's estate at all?" asked Ruth.
"No more than the Man in the Moon," said Mr. Howbridge, still smiling.
"And you know _he_ isn't any relation," whispered Tess, to Dot, with great importance.
"The poor things!" Ruth sighed. "Whatever will they do?"
"Why, Ruth Kenway!" exclaimed Agnes, in great excitement. "What are you thinking of? I should think you had done enough for them."
Ruth only looked at her, and went on talking to the lawyer. "You see, sir," she said, "they are quite penniless. I know, for Mrs. Treble broke down and cried about it last night, when I read to her the provisions of what I supposed to be Uncle Peter's will.
"She spent the last money she had in getting here from Ypsilanti. She has thoroughly believed that Lillie was to come into the money. Now, what _can_ she do?"
"Go back to Ypsilanti," put in Agnes, sharply.