“Then, that’s what he does,” Kit’s tone held a touch of admiring awe as she listened. “And we thought he might be anything from a counterfeiter to an escaped convict hiding away up here. Oh, Jeannie, why do you suppose he keeps away from everyone?”
“Probably got a hidden sorrow,” Jean answered. “Still he’s got a terrific appetite. Mrs. Gorham says she doesn’t see how he ever puts away the amount of food he does. He buys whole roast chickens and eats them all himself.”
Just then the music ceased suddenly. The door opened and Mr. Ormond spoke into the twilight gloom.
“Is that you, Tommy?”
“No, it’s just us girls,” answered Kit. “We’re going down to the mill.”
“Would you mind so very much asking if anyone has telephoned a telegram up for me from the station? I’m expecting one.”
“There, you see,” Jean said, dubiously, as they went on down the road. “We just get rid of one mystery, and he hands us another to solve. Who would he be getting a telegram from?”
Kit laughed and said, “You’re getting just as bad as everyone else in Elmhurst, Jean. I thought only Mr. Ricketts took an interest in telegrams and post cards.”
Nevertheless, when Lucy told them that there had been a message phoned up from Nantic, even Kit showed quick interest.
It was signed “Concetta,” and the message read, “Arrive Nantic, ten-two. Contract signed. All love and tenderness.”