“Father died so suddenly,” said Freda, “mother hardly ever speaks of his death. She always seems overcome after talking of it.”
“That was a sad thing,” Denny digressed. “To go off in the morning, a-whistlin’ and happy, and to be brought home without a word in him. Freddie, dear, I oughtn’t to talk of it.”
Freda brushed aside a tear. Her father’s death had been caused by apoplexy, when she was but a mite of a child.
“But the queer part of it was that your grandfather seemed to think I would outlive his son, and John such a strappin’-lookin’ fellow,” resumed Denny. “Len called me to him, and him sick and miserable, and he says: ‘Denny, John’s not as strong as he looks, and I want you to do all you can to help Louisa,’ (your mother of course, Freddie), ‘for she has the child to raise,’ he said. Well, he wouldn’t let me interrupt him when I tried to speak of John. He would have it that I should keep an eye to things. Your grandfather Lewis left me no papers, however—I supposed John had them—but he left me the old red oar. He had fairly been playin’ with it for years, always polishin’ it or shapin’ it off here or there. I often look at the marks of his knife on it, and wonder why he seemed fond of it.”
“I am sure,” said Freda, earnestly, “you have kept your promise, Uncle Denny. Mother often speaks of how good you were when I was small. Father never had any papers about grandfather’s land; all he had related to family keepsakes. The strange part of it all is to me that a man of grandfather’s intelligence should be so remiss about his property claims.”
“But, Freddie, you don’t understand. There seemed no need for deeds and mortgage papers then about here. Everybody knew everyone else, and things seemed to be solid forever. But now them plagued land fellows—well, they’ve got a good cheek, is all I can say.” And he emptied an unsmoked pipe of tobacco in his indignation.
“But we are going to get after them,” Cora declared. “We want to go slowly, and, if possible, find out what their intentions are. Find what sort of company they claim to have, in the first place, and if they are an honorable set of men they ought to make open claims, instead of sneaking around, and trying to find out things that might cause a flaw in the title. I am suspicious, for one,” she finished significantly.
“Well, good luck to your spunk,” said Denny, “and I never knew the like of it to fail. But say, tell me about the boat. What did the lads think of the fixin’s?”
“Oh, it was the greatest fun,” Freda replied. “They could not imagine how we ever thought of using the cylinder water for a dishwater supply. I never gave it away that you suggested it to Cora’s mechanic.”
“And I want to thank you, Mr. Shane——”