“DON’T LOOK AT THEM, AUNT WINNIE,” CRIED DOROTHY. “THE ENTRIES ARE FALSE!”
And by a peculiar net of circumstances, which invariably occur when one thread tightens about a guilty man, Miss Mingle at that moment walked into the room! She had come to demand justice from the man who had served removal notice upon herself and her sister, Mrs. Bergham. She held the notice in her hand. Major Dale took it, and tearing it in small pieces, placed it in a waste paper basket.
“He admitted to me, quite freely,” protested Tavia, “that every tenant in the house paid eighty or one hundred dollars for his or her apartment!”
Miss Mingle at first could not grasp the meaning of it, but as Dorothy quickly explained that her aunt was the owner of the apartment, it dawned on Miss Mingle just how, after all, the guilty are punished, even though the road to justice be a long and crooked one.
“You never spent a penny on that place,” growled Mr. Akerson, “I spent a good pile of my own money, just to fix it up after my own ideas of a studio apartment.”
“I spent more than half of my income of thirty-five dollars per month from each apartment, for constant repairs, and when I discussed with you, as you well know, the advisability of advancing the rents a few dollars to cover the outlay, you discouraged it, said it was impossible in that section of the city to ask more than thirty-five dollars,” said Mrs. White sternly.
“What these books really show,” said Dorothy, “is the enormous amount that is due Aunt Winnie from Mr. Akerson!”
“The tenants are so dissatisfied,” explained Miss Mingle, “the constant increases in the rent were so unreasonable! The porter in the house, so we have found, was in league with Mr. Akerson, and kept him informed of everything that happened.”
“That’s how,” said Tavia, with a hysterical laugh, “he knew whom it was we called on at the Court Apartments!”