Fourthly, the granddaughter of Thompson, Ethel, and the son of Captain Wegg had been in love with each other, and people expected they would marry in time. But at his father's sudden death the boy fled and left his sweetheart without a word. Why--unless something had occurred that rendered their marriage impossible? In the fifth place there was Old Hucks and his blind wife to be considered. What did they know about their old master's secret history? What tragic memories lurked beneath the man's perpetual smile and the woman's composed and sightless face? Surely there was enough here to excite the curiosity and warrant an effort to untangle the mystery. And as instruments to the end there were several people available who could be of use to her; McNutt, the agent, who evidently knew more than he had cared to tell; Old Hucks and his wife and Ethel Thompson, the school-teacher. There might be others, but one or another of these four must know the truth, and it would be her pleasant duty to obtain a full disclosure. So she was anxious to begin her investigations at once. When her uncle returned from his visit to the pigs Louise said to him: "I've been thinking, dear, that we ought to call upon that young lady who arranged our rooms, and thank her for her kindness." "That's true," he replied. "Can't we drive over to Thompson's this morning, Uncle?" "Beth and Patsy have planned a tramp to the lake, and a row after water-lilies." "Then let us make our call together. We can invite the girl to come here and spend a day with us, when Patsy and Beth will be able to meet her." "That's a good idea, Louise. I was wondering what I'd do this morning. Tell Old Hucks to get the nag harnessed." The girl ran eagerly upon her errand. Old Hucks seemed surprised, and a curious expression showed for an instant through his smile. But he turned without a word to harness the horse. Louise stood watching him. "Your fingers are quite nimble, Thomas, considering the fact that you were once a sailor," she said. "But sailors have to be nimble, miss," he returned, buckling a strap unmoved. "Who tol' ye I were once a sea-farin' man?" "I guessed it." As he appeared indisposed to say more on the subject she asked: "Did you sail with Captain Wegg?" "Partly, miss. Dan's already now. Don't jerk the bit, fer his mouth's tender an' it makes him balky. Ef he balks jest let him rest a time, an' then speak to him. Dan ain't vicious; he's jest ornery." She climbed into the dilapidated old buggy and took the reins. Dan groaned and ambled slowly around to where Uncle John stood awaiting his niece. "Let me drive, Uncle," she said; "I understand Dan." "Well, I don't," returned Uncle John, in his whimsical way, as he mounted to the seat beside her. "I don't understand how he's happened to live since the landing of Columbus, or what he's good for, or why someone don't knock him on the head."