“But Uncle,” Madge insisted, smiling at the implication of her own social status. “Surely you remember something your father said about the pearls. Maybe just a few words or even one word.”
Uncle Ross reflected deeply again and then replied:
“I does remembeh dat de ole man was powerful wurrit ’bout what happened to dem pearls. Fust place, he was ’fraid folks would say he stole ’em and he was de honestest culled man in dis town. Yes, suh! Why, de ole man was a Deacon in de church and de ministeh used to say—”
Madge saw he was going off on a new tangent so tried to draw him up.
“Yes, yes, Uncle. No one ever thought your father took the pearls. All we want to know is if you recall anything he ever said about where he thought they might have been hidden.”
The old Negro reflected deeply.
“Well, Miss, I does remembeh dat when de ole man was in dis here very same house a passin’ on to de otheh shore and sort of talkin’ wild-like jest before he died, he said somethin’ about de pearls. And den he said another word. Let me think. What was it he said?”
While the girls waited patiently, hoping that he would be able to furnish the clue they needed, Uncle Ross seemed to lose control of his briefly gathered memories. Madge could almost see them slipping away.
“Think hard, Uncle,” she urged. “What was the word?”
Uncle Ross made one last grand effort to remember. He closed his eyes, shaking his head in a baffled sort of way.