Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Mystery fiction
The guests had either retired to their rooms, or were wandering about
the spacious grounds; at least none were in evidence when West emerged
on to the side terrace, where Miss Natalie and Percival Coolidge
waited. The car was an electric runabout, the single broad seat ample
for the three, and West found himself next to the girl who took charge.
Few words were exchanged until they turned into the main high-way,
headed toward the city. Even then conversation scarcely touched on the
special object of their trip. Indeed, Coolidge seemed inclined to avoid
the subject entirely, turning the conversation into other channels
whenever the matter was broached. This was so persistently done as to
arouse West's notice, but Natalie appeared indifferent, interested only
in her guidance of the car. It was not a long ride, the point sought
being a short submerged street in the southwestern section of the
city. To West this district was entirely unknown, even the street names
being unfamiliar, but he learned through the conversation of the others
that they were in the neighbourhood of some of the Coolidge factories,
many of the surrounding houses being the homes of employees. Percival
called his attention to a few of these, more substantial than the
others, as evidence of the wages paid in their establishments, and also
expatiated to some extent upon the benevolent oversight shown their
workmen. The girl, however, remained quiet, her attention concentrated
upon the street.
Indeed it needed to be if they were to escape accident, for the streets
traversed were, on this Sunday morning, evidently filled from curb to
curb with children engaged in all manner of games, with their elders
massed on the steps in front of the houses, watching them apathetically.
The runabout felt its way cautiously forward through the jostling throng
of screaming youngsters, and finally turned into Arch Street, only two
blocks in length, with low, two storied, wooden cottages on either side.
Percival, plainly nervous at the surroundings, indicated the place
sought in the middle of the first block, and Natalie ran the car up
against the curb.
"Is this the place?" she asked doubtfully, eyeing the rather
disreputable cottage, which seemed deserted. "I have never been
here before. What a mass of kids! Do they always play like that in
the street?"
Coolidge unfastened the door, and stepped out.
"Yes, it's all right," he answered sharply. "You might wait here, West;
we'll only be gone a few minutes. Come along, Natalie,"
The girl hesitated, evidently not altogether satisfied.
"Is it necessary that I go in?" she asked.
"That was why I asked you to come," impatiently. "Because you understand
these matters, and, being a woman, can judge better what steps should be
taken. Come; it will only require a few moments--West won't mind."
"Certainly not," the younger man said heartily, "I shall be very
comfortable; don't bother about me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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