He hurried down the hall. The door to the living room was partially closed. Ronnie poked his head through the opening. The two Rorth candlesticks were standing on the desk. Mr. Caldwell was seated near them and Grandfather directly across from him. Phil was lolling on the couch, his bare feet resting on the wall and his head propped up with a pillow. He seemed more interested in the comic magazine on his chest than what was going on in the room.
Grandfather caught sight of Ronnie. “Come in, boy. Come in.”
Ronnie pushed the door open the rest of the way and came over to sit on the floor near Grandfather’s chair.
“I have just finished explaining to Mr. Caldwell that if he really has a pair of candlesticks like these,” Grandfather said to Ronnie, “and if they have come down to him through the family, then I guess we can be pretty sure he’s related in some way to the Jacob Williams who was a partner of your great-great-grandfather.”
Ronnie gulped. Grandfather had told Mr. Caldwell all this? But, why? Why?
His amazement must have shown in his face, for Grandfather gave him a searching look and explained gently, “It’s got to be that way, Ronald. There would be no advantage in keeping the information from him. You see, the Seaway has learned of the unsettled title to the deserted village land. At first I thought this would help me—I thought they would be snarled up in such legal troubles that it would be better for them to build the dam the way we want than to be held up for a year, maybe more, fighting us in the courts. But it doesn’t work that way, I learned. The Seaway just puts half the value of the property away in a bank in trust, and if and when the person who’s got a claim on the land shows up, why, the money’s there and waiting.”
“I see,” Ronnie said. Only he didn’t, not really.
“This way the whole affair’s settled, once and for all.” He looked closely at Ronnie to see how the boy was taking what he had said.
“Confound it, Ronnie,” he went on, his face flushing slightly. “Confound it, you don’t think I like what’s going on, do you? I’m still fighting, boy, fighting for the village. And saving the village from being destroyed, that’s the important thing. Maybe with Mr. Caldwell as a half-owner, we’ll add strength to our side of the fighting. Seems to me this man’s kind of keen on saving the village, too.”
Ronnie looked over at Caldwell. “Are you, Mr. Caldwell?” he asked. He wasn’t seeing Caldwell, not really. He was seeing the man who had slipped into the padlocked building that afternoon, the man who had overturned furniture and thrown the family papers about on the floor.