"Howdy, Mr. Baker," he said, cordially, leaning on his gold-headed cane in the middle of his poor room. "Set that chist right here by the winder. I shan't want to lift it 'round much, feelin' as rickety as I do now. And I'll want light to see into it. That's it. Now the keys. Yep. I'll sign your receipt." He signed his name to the paper and paid Perry his fee. Tom lingered at the door of the room, his eyes like knobs. The expressman fell over the lout as he retreated and pushed him down the stairs ahead of him. "The old man don't seem very spry," Perry said, in a hoarse whisper, to the Petty trio. "I don't dispute he feels his years. P'r'aps he won't have many more chances to look over his--his things. He tells me to come back again for that box day after to-morrow." "Yes," Sarah Petty said with set lips. "Good day, Perry." "There ain't many folks in Cardhaven, I don't guess," pursued the unabashed expressman, "that's any better off for this world's goods than Cap'n Hand?" "Quite prob'ble," snapped Sarah. "You said yourself, Orrin," went on Perry Baker, "he was a very rich man, 'cordin' to all you could find out." Sarah glared at her husband in hot wrath. Orrin shuffled his feet and said nothing. He was not going to admit or deny the truth of Perry's artless statement. "Wal, he's an old man. Right crippled with rheumatics," went on the expressman. "He'll prob'bly be consider'ble of a care afore he passes away. But you folk'll have a chance to make his last days happy." "I'd like to make _your_ last days happy!" hissed Sarah Petty, as the talkative expressman finally slid out through the kitchen doorway, with Orrin and Tom barring any chance of his return. Both men wheeled to face the open kitchen door again as Perry aroused his old horse and drove away. "Goshamighty!" exploded Orrin. "What did I----" "You jest hesh!" hissed Sarah. "You knowed more'n Solomon and all his seven hundred wives put together. An' you can bet that's why Solomon knew so much. His wives told him! "Now, you two git along about your work. Don't you interfere. Act like you had some pride and manners. You look like hungry houn's snuffin' around a garbage bucket. Get out with ye!" "But--but," gasped Orrin, "do you re'lly s'pose there's money in that box?" "'Twas heavy enough to be filled chock-a-block with gold and silver," declared Tom, quite as eager as his father. "Don't be sech fools," admonished Sarah Petty. "You can bet Uncle Jonah ain't so crazy as to have his property in cash. He's got what he's got invested, of course. In good dividend-paying stocks an' bonds an' sich. That box is heavy because it is made of iron." "But there might be treasure in it, too--pearls, or di'monds, or other precious stones," said Orrin, letting his imagination ride free. "He's been all through the East where they git sech things. He's knowed Chinese mandarins, an' Indian rajahs, an' Persian shahs, an'----"