"He was going along, and came in to see the excitement. And he laughed at us--the hateful thing. And when we said we belonged to the manse he laughed more than ever. He was not a farmer, I am sure--he wore a silk shirt, did you notice that, Treasure? We call him the Curious Cat--Curious because he was so funny, and Cat because he laughed. He gave the old Crab some money and said he would assume responsibility for us, and he told us to wait until he telephoned to verify us, or something, and he asked the Crab to pick us some regular flowers to atone for his irreverence in assaulting a manse, as it were, and the Crab really was pretty decent after that. When the Cat went to telephone, I asked who he was, and the Crab rolled up his eyes and said he never laid eyes on him before. And then the Cat came back, and brought us home in his car." "Where was it?" asked Doris curiously. "It was in the hickory grove, this side of the tumble-down house--I did hear that some one had bought the place, but I did not believe it. Every one says it is haunted. But of course haunts do not work in the day-time, and the flowers were gorgeous. We got quite chummy with the Corduroy Crab before we left, and asked if we might have a picnic there some time, and he said yes." "However did you get away out there, anyhow?" "Oh, the Maples came along in their car and asked if we wanted a ride, and when we got out there and saw how fine the flowers were we said we would get a ride back easy enough." "Here comes father!" The girls raced down the stone walk to meet him, and Doris returned to the kitchen. "Did you ever hear such a thing in your life?" she thought to herself. "How does he get every place--and how does he know everything-- Oh, I think I'll take a walk out there myself some of these fine days--maybe I'll get arrested, too!" CHAPTER V THE WILL "Father, are you studying, or are you plain fidgeting?" asked Doris suspiciously, pausing in the act of dusting the pile of manuscript on her father's desk. "Just plain fidgeting, I am afraid," he admitted. "I am nervous." "Nervous!" "I believe that old fellow left me something in his will," came the sober confession. "Davison?" "Davison." "But why should he leave you anything?" "Well, for that matter, why shouldn't he? Didn't I have to preach his funeral sermon--hardest job of my whole ministry?" "But what makes you think--" "Folsom called me up and asked me to be at his office at eleven o'clock for the reading of the will. Folsom is his lawyer." "Oh, they just want you for a witness, goosie." "You don't witness wills when they are dead--I mean, you witness the will when the dead person made it--before he is dead, of course."