"Folks say she is; that's all I know 'bout it," replied Tony. "Elias Barnes was calculatin' one day down to the store that she must be worth thousands. I can believe it, too," added the boy significantly. "Everything we've got on the farm is tied up with string, or hitched together with a scrap of wire. Your aunt ain't fur gettin' a thing mended long's it can be made to hold together. 'Bout everything on the farm wants overhaulin'. I'd give a fortune to see a smart man come in here an' set the place to rights. There's a lot of truck in the barn oughter be heaved out an' burned. 'Tain't fit for nothin'. But Miss Webster would no more hear to partin' with one stick nor stone she owned than she'd cut off her head. She'd keep everything that belonged to her if it was dropping to bits." The boy paused. "Well, there's one good thing," he added, smiling, "she can't take the stuff she's hoarded with her into the next world, an' when it falls to you you can do as you like with it." "Falls to me?" "Why, yes. 'Course all your aunt's property'll be yours some day." "What makes you think so?" Lucy asked, a suggestion of reserve in her tone. "Who else is there to have it?" inquired Tony, opening his eyes very wide. "Ain't she already left it to you in her will?" "I don't know." "You don't!" Lucy laughed at his incredulousness. "No." "Well, they say down to the town that your aunt made her will 'bout three weeks ago. Even Lawyer Benton himself admitted that much. Folks saw Miss Webster goin' into his office an' questioned him. He warn't for tellin' anything 'til they nagged at him; then he did own that the farm an' everything else was left to _relatives_. Elias Barnes an' some of the others were mighty quick to hunt up who the Webster relatives were. They were pretty sure you were the only one, an' it 'pears you are. So it's you will get the place an' the money, an' goodness knows, Miss Lucy, you've earnt it. The men all agreed to that." "You know, Tony, Miss Webster is my aunt," began Lucy in a warning voice, loyalty resenting this criticism. "Yes, but there's aunts--an' aunts," interrupted the lad with a grin. "It's no use pretendin' you ain't drawn the devil of a one, 'cause I know. Don't I live close at hand, an' ain't I got eyes?" Lucy did not answer. They were nearing the village and to put an end to the conversation, she took out her list of errands and began to read it absently. But in the back of her mind she was turning over Tony's remarks. She had never allowed herself to dwell on the time when the Webster homestead would actually be her own. It seemed unfitting to plan on acquiring property that could only come to her through the death of another person. Now, however, she suddenly gave her imagination rein and began to consider what changes she would make when the farm was really in her hands.