“Reasonable, ain’t it? Reckon a man would ruther pay five thousand dollars than be laid out stiff. What about Jud Cory?”
“We have him,” Captain Tucker answered, “but Boothy’s missing. We believe he’s been murdered.”
“Then why you standin’ ’round wastin’ time doin’ nothin’?” Mr. Wilkes’ outburst arose to a tremulous falsetto. “Find him. I’ll pay a reward.”
“We’re starting a search now with the dog,” Captain Tucker soothed the agitated man. “If you wish to come along——”
But Mr. Wilkes was seized with a shuddering reluctance. “It ain’t fitten’ I should, seein’ as folks might say I was powerful anxious t’ find him so’s t’ claim the property. Besides——” Straggling hairs again bothered his mouth, and there was another spell of coughing and sputtering. “Besides, I ain’t so spry anymore and the cold gits into my bones. I’ll set here by the window in the sun an’ watch out through the apple orchard.”
“It’s a fine orchard,” Captain Tucker observed.
“Boothy set great store by it,” Mr. Wilkes said feelingly. “Blasted the soil with dynamite before settin’ out the trees.”
“Coming, Captain?” Dr. Stone asked.
There was an undercurrent to the words. Joe, roused out of his expectation of a ghost, saw that the strained lines were gone from his uncle’s mouth and that now the face was placid and serene. The boy knew the sign. Once more Dr. Stone had touched something hidden in obscurity. Light had come to the brain that lay behind those blind eyes. And so they came outdoors, to the snow and the frozen ground.
“Careful, Doctor,” Captain Tucker warned.