Happy Endings . . .

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue 17, 20 January 1940, Page 3 (Supplement)

Happy Endings . . .

Victor started up and I hurried out to 111 V scolding auntie, trying to make up for inv absence by telling her tho news. I 'thought tlie cucumber dishes looked stingy and was slicing another when she made me cut my linger with: "Thank goodness, there won't be any more beads to sweep up!" AVliich just goes to show how a round of murders will make a person callous. I finished tho cucumbers and took them in. Tho guests were nearly all seated, munching the salted crackers we served with Hie chowder. Auntie had baked potatoes, cold, boiled ham and Ftewed tomatoes; and, how ever she d done it, she'd made two kinds of pudding—lemon rice and cottage, with nutmc'' sauce —with canned milk, I suppose, and right in the midst of two murders! Or was it three? There's New England stock for you! I could just see licr ancestors calmly going about their daily tasks in the middle of frequent sealpings. I set down Victor's chowder and a dish for myself. My aunt had "et," she said, and wanted me to. He came presently and sat down opposite me. "Money's there, he whispered. "Painting's wet. Had to scrub tho stuff otr my hands. That's why I was so long." Hessio Norcross was absent. IJictn t want any lunch, slic'd told Aunt Isclla. She was going to take a sleeping powder and lock herself in her room. Would Mrs. Gerry please so inform her brother?

Mr.*. Gerry did. "Took poor Mips Kendall's death awful hard. She was bawling her eyes out. Kep' paying. 'Hughie never done it!' As if anyonc'd think you did!" Several spoons were halted in midair. Several pairs of eyes, I saw. shot suspicious glances at poor Hugh, trying to eat his chowder with a fork. ''There are plenty of policemen, shall we say, Mrs. (Jerry, who might not he so lenient with Xoreross as you are," squeaked Mr. Qnincy. llis eyes no longer twinkled; they glittered. Hugh's chair scraped backward, hut he pulled it up again without a word when the minister added: "Let him who is without evil cast the first stone. Personally, and without recrimination, 1 think it. looks bad for all of us." Kor ;l moment I liked the pompous De AN itt. "Did you look in the tent ?*' Aunt Xella asked. "I've got a feolin' Koddy's around here somewhere, hidinV' Uncle Wylie, for the first time, was eating his repast with the guests. Nothing short of murder eouhl have made him bring in his dinner from the kitchen, but there lie was at a rear table. "Don't be rediclous, Xella. Looked in the tent every time J passed it to-«lay. iV mi ted all over our barn. Only place t ain't been is Mr. Quade's trailer.*' He bit oft' a healthful chunk of bread "l.'ould Lane conceal himself in one o your cubbyholes?" he asked Victor. "Xot a chance. The trailer's beei searched. I still have the keys." The minister turned around in hi chair. "JJoathouse was locked, tor wasn't: it? Vet somebody's been then 3s it likely Lane -would scuttle his ow: boats? Much as I despised him, I can but hope he just left the J lead in natural way. The Jire was an -iceidcnt which burned a poor old deaf man." "And Miss Kendall?" Albion Potte was still bitter, apparently about hi lost commission to do her portrait. "Accident, too? Fell into the Pirate' Mouth." Hugh (lung down his napkin. "Xi< of you, Do Witt, but it won't go. XOl when you know the poor woman Wcis strangled with my scarf." t I caught an exchange, between Uncle * Wylie. who'd been about to say a word, C and Victor, who shut him up just in j> time. So all my uncle really utteml j was "Sartin"—the opposite of v bat he'd intended. 1 Hugh tossed him a scornful glance. C "Oh. 1 admit it was my svarf all right. ( At least, I'd lost one of the tamo colour. I'll tell the police if the chance ever comes, in this isolated hole. I>ut," and ;* he fairly shouted it at us. "J didn't tie * it. around her neck! I—l1 —I liked the poor old girl." . # 'J He crammed some food into his mouth and nearly choked on it. His glass was ' empty and I sprang to refill it for 1 him. A Matter J Of Letters. "Thank*. Judy. Von tell them 1 didn't write you'the funny letter, either. Or send you any money. Truth is, I'm hard up. Had to borrow from my sister to afi'ord this vacation. Kelt I was justified since it was on her account we " J He was talking too much and knew | it. He drained I lie second glass. But 1 . couldn't tell them he, or any of the rest of them, hadn't sent the letter. "I don't believe you did." I said ' lamely, clearing away the table. ] "Well, 1 know 1 didn't/' ehided Tliad- ] deus Quincy. "Xor 3." "Xor 3." "I certainly didn't." ? TJie denial* was vociferous and general, each guest gazing blandly around the table at the others. "Wylie ain't got a cent, so he i couldn't," Aunt Xella said virtuously. , "And you needn't .look at me! I love Judy more*n any of you, but I wanted that church for a bungalow in my old aire. 'T ain't no place for a tearoom. Why, KoekvilleVs chock-a-block with gift'e shoppes and tearooms, an' only one of 'em makin' ends meet." 3lcr head straightened stifily. "And I'd thank whoever busted our boat to have it repaired. That goes for the register, too." She flounced through the swinging door to the kitchen. I pat petrified. Auntie can l>e mighty insulting in a polite way. After all was said and done, only one j>crson was l likely to be responsible for the damage. Thaddeus Quincy chuckled, and soon C t a nervous ripple ran round the tables. Uncle Wylie rose to help me with the trays. "Don't mind Mrs. (Jerry," lie r half-whispered. "She gets uppity when her puddin' sauce is lumpy." \ At that we all laughed aloud, and uncle joined in. It wasn't decent. It s wasn't seemly, but we couldn't help it. Our nerves were at the breaking point. „ Tho minister sobered us down again. "Judy, is the rest of the money you 9 received still where you left it?" ( J I glanced at Victor. ''Yes," I said. '. ( } "It's all there." d "Doesn't it occur to you Miss Kcndall. for reasons unknown to us now, might have sent it? She apparently c ' had plenty of this world's goods, in a 3 * small way, of course, judging by her clothes, and her offer to Potter here of 50 dollars for a portrait, on top of tho 'y bid of 25 for the church. And, as I 110 recall, she was the one who wanted to search the basement. Acted strange a about the Pirate's Mouth investigation, 1,0 too. Lay down on the rock, remember —after Mr. Quade said there was notli,'l,l ing there." "Would she bid .against herself?" I ;,1) asked. "She was tte one who bid me up to 300 at the auction. Why? If she knew she was certain to have the use of I,fc the church through me, anyway?" la- Just then I thought I heard a step on cr the stairs. Lid r? (Continued next week.)