"Least said, soonest mended," Tobias secretly observed. "Give 'em time to trim their sails. But won't Heppy be purt' near surprised to death over this? Oh, sugar!"
He was in no mood to discuss the surprising outcome of the funeral of Captain Jethro Potts, even to the curious Clinkerport folks who knew of the reason for his trip down the coast, and who saw him alight from the up train that afternoon.
"Wal, how'd ye make out, Tobias?" asked Ben Durgin, the Clinkerport station agent.
"Purt' tollerble," responded the lightkeeper cheerfully. "Though my feet do ache some in these shoes."
"Did your Uncle Jethro leave much, Tobe?" asked a bolder spirit.
"Wal, as the feller said, he left the earth," chuckled Tobias.
"I say!" exclaimed Ezra Crouch, whose bump of inquisitiveness could only be equaled by Amos Pickering, the mail carrier's, "didn't they read the will, Tobias?"
"Oh, sugar! Yes. So they did," agreed the lightkeeper.
"Wal, then, who's to get his money?"
"Why—there wasn't nobody forgotten," Tobias assured him. "No, sir, not a soul! There ain't no rel'tive of Cap'n Jethro' that can honestly say he or she was forgotten in the will."