CHAPTER XII
STRANGE WEALTH
“Want to come down with me?”
It happened as simply as that. Johnny Thompson caught his breath, breathed hard twice, then said, “Y—yes. Sure I would.”
The boy who had asked this surprising question was none other than Donald Day, grandson of the wizard of Stone Mountain who in a mysterious manner managed to make something of great value out of air and water alone. It was the next day. Jensie and Ballard were away in the hills with dog and guns but Johnny and Donald were standing at the door leading to the mystery room beneath the mill. The key was in Donald’s hand and he was saying quietly, “Want to come down—”
“Wonder if he does not know that his grandfather kept the whole thing a secret?” Johnny thought to himself. “Wonder if I should tell him. I—”
At that moment little Bexter Brice burst through the outer door. “The worst things do happen,” he exclaimed. “Poor old Uncle Mose Short!” He dropped down upon a rustic seat.
“What’s happened?” Johnny asked, for the moment allowing his interest to be drawn from the enthralling mystery below.
“Well, you know,” Bex was speaking slowly now, “Mr. MacQueen always took a great deal of interest in Mose. Mose is old, really old, no one knows just how old, but he’s been game. He’s worked. Times have been hard but all he’s asked is a chance to earn a poor sort of living and now—” he sighed. “Now it looks as if that chance would be cut off.
“You see,” he turned to the city boy, Donald, “your grandfather was trying to save Mose’s mule when he had that terrible fall.”
“So,” Donald flashed him a friendly smile, “it’s sort of up to me to take on the burden Grandfather has been forced to lay down?”