“No, sir; you may have heard the rest of the story, but not the part about the ghost. I wrote the yarn up in my junior year for an English comp., and tacked on the ghost feature as a sort of added climax. Got good marks, too, and the Orstead paper published the thing. I’ll show it to you, if you like.”
Lee looked unconvinced still, and Starling disappointed. “Well, it’s a good story, anyway, and makes the place more interesting. Some day I’ll have a look myself for the hidden millions.”
“Guess the old chap never had that much,” said George. “Thirty or forty thousand is about what he was supposed to have salted away.”
“Scarcely worth bothering about,” observed Laurie, with a yawn.
“But look here, what became of the servant?” asked Starling. “Maybe he got the dough and made off with it.”
“Lots of folks thought that,” replied George; “but the theory didn’t pan out for a cent. The negro stuck around here for quite a while and then ambled off somewhere. He claimed that old Coventry died owing him a month’s wages, and tried to get some one to pay him, but I guess he never got any of it, if it was really owing.”
“Where did he go to?” asked Starling.
“I don’t know. New York City, I think.”
“I’ll bet he either had the money or knew where it was,” declared Starling, with conviction. “Don’t you see, fellows, he did just what any one would do in his case? He stuck around so he wouldn’t be suspected. If he’d gone right off, folks would have said he was trying to avoid being asked about the money. And then he faked up the yarn about the old gentleman owing him wages. A first-class detective would have got trace of the coin, I’ll wager!”
“You’ve been reading Sherlock Holmes,” laughed Lee. “Why don’t you follow up your clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth to the starving heirs?”