“So I did. Poor Uncle Bill! He was pretty well done up. But he’s better now, as I told you. But that’s why I took the old book with me.”
“What is why?” demanded Agnes.
“Such ‘langwitch’!” exclaimed Neale, with laughter. “I tell you I carried that album away with me because I wanted to show the stuff in it to Mr. Howbridge. I remembered he was up there in Tiverton, too.”
“Oh, dear me! I had forgotten it!” cried Ruth.
“I remembered, but I forgot to tell you,” said Agnes.
“I didn’t think the stuff was any good. But I thought Mr. Howbridge ought to see it and judge for himself. So I took it to him. He was busy when I first called and I left the book with him. That was at his brother’s house.”
“Oh, Neale!” groaned Ruth. “Why didn’t you write us about it?”
“Didn’t think of it. I give you my word I did not believe that the bonds were worth anything; and I was confident the money was phony.”
“Oh, dear!” said Agnes. “And it’s all safe? Mr. Howbridge has all that great lot of money?”
“Yes. I saw him Saturday before I came down to Milton. He pretty nearly took me off my feet when he said that it was all good stuff, with lots of dividend money coming to the owner of the bonds, too. And he wanted to know all the particulars of your finding the album. Bless you! he doesn’t know what to think about it. He is only sure that your Uncle Peter never owned the bonds or the cash.”