Patsy's face was a blank. Beth giggled and Louise frowned.
"Of course it'll have to be run," suggested Mr. Merrick; "but how?
That's the question."
"I—I hadn't given that matter thought," admitted Patsy. "What do you think, Uncle?"
He considered, holding open the door while he thoughtfully regarded the silent but interested group of villagers that eagerly hung upon every word that passed.
"Cotting," called Mr. Merrick, "how do they run the paper mill at
Royal?"
"'Lectricity! 'Lectricity, sir!" answered half a dozen at once.
"They develops the power from the Royal Waterfall of the Little Bill," explained Cotting, with slow and pompous deliberation. "Mr. Skeelty he tol' me they had enough 'lectric'ty to light up the whole dum country fer ten mile in all directions, 'sides a-runnin' of the mill."
"Who's Skeelty?"
"Manager o' the mill, sir, an' part owner, he says."
"Has he a telephone?"