“Exactly what I say. Mrs. Bruce has held the purse of the company and the other day she and Dorothy were counting up their money and—that’s the last anybody has seen of it. They kept it in a little empty tin box, that marsh-mallows came in; and Chloe called Mrs. Bruce over to the galley to see about some cooking, and Mrs. Calvert called Dorothy for something else, don’t you know? Well, sir, when they came back to finish their counting there wasn’t a thing left but the tin box—empty as your hat.”
“Somebody stole it, course. Who do they suspect?”
“Look here, Gerry, that’s a question comes pretty near home, I know that Mrs. Calvert and Dorothy suspect nobody. I can’t say as much for Mrs. Bruce and the rest. The money was there—the money is gone. We’re all in the same boat—literally, you know. There wasn’t a peddler here that day, nobody around but just ourselves. You and Jim are out of it, course, because you were away; but—it might be me, it might be Mabel, it might be Metty—Ephraim—Chloe—no not her, for she wasn’t out of Mrs. Bruce’s sight—and it might be your own sister Aurora.”
“What’s that? How dare you?” angrily demanded Gerald.
But Melvin smiled, a little sadly, indeed, and shrugged his shoulders.
“Not so fast, Gerry. I’m not accusing her, nobody is accusing anybody. But the money’s gone, and maybe it’s just as well so much of it went for you.”
“For me? What do you mean by that?”
“Cap’n Jack reckoned you’d cost the exchequer about fifty dollars. Dorothy had the very choicest things, poultry, cream, fruit and things, besides the doctor’s bills. And the farmers down here aren’t so low in their charges as nearer Jimpson’s. Mrs. Bruce got furious against them, they took advantage so. But the doctor said you were a very sick boy, for only measles, and must be built up, so good-hearted little Dolly dipped into the marsh-mallow box for you. You——”
“Hush! Don’t say another word! I’m so mad I can’t breathe. I wish I’d never come on this cruise. Cruise? It’s nothing better ’n being buried alive. Thought we might get some fun out of it, hunting for that ‘buried treasure’ and now, up pops that old stick-in-the-mud and claims the whole business. Pshaw! I’ll go home if I have to walk there.”
“How? You couldn’t. But I’ll tell you what you could do. Hunt up Elsa and the monks. I want to see if this harness I’ve made out of a fur-rug they destroyed will fit either. Dolly proposes to make them some clothes and get up a little ‘show.’ Thinks she and Elsa could exhibit them for pennies, when the people come to sell stuff, and that would help pay for it.”