Aunt Janes Nieces on Vacation | Page 8

take to get the things here, Uncle?"
Mr. Merrick considered a moment.
"There's a long-distance telephone over at Cotting's General Store, in
town," he said. "I'll drive over and get Major Doyle on the wire and
have him order the stuff sent out at once."
"Oh, no!" protested Patsy; "don't tell daddy of this plan, please. He'd
think we were all fit subjects for the lunatic asylum."
"Major Doyle wouldn't be far wrong in that conclusion," suggested
Arthur.
"I'd like to surprise him by sending him the first copy of the Millville
Tribune," added the major's daughter.

"Then," said Mr. Merrick, "I'll call up Marvin, my banker. He'll
perhaps attend to the matter more understandingly and more promptly
than the major would. Tell Hucks to harness Joe to the buggy, Patsy,
and I'll go at once."
"We'll all go!" exclaimed Beth.
"Of course," added Louise; "we are all equally interested in this
venture."
So Patsy had old Hucks hitch Joe to the surrey, and the three girls
accompanied their uncle in his drive to town, leaving Arthur Weldon
shaking his head in a deprecating way but fully realizing that no protest
of his would avail to prevent this amazing undertaking.
"That old man is as much a child as Beth or Patsy," he reflected. "It
puzzles me to explain how he made all those millions with so little
worldly wisdom."
CHAPTER IV
THE WAY INTO PRINT
Sam Cotting's General Store at Millville divided importance with Bob
West's hardware store but was a more popular loafing place for the
sparse population of the tiny town. The post office was located in one
corner and the telephone booth in another, and this latter institution was
regarded with much awe by the simple natives. Once in awhile some
one would telephone over to the Junction on some trivial business, but
the long-distance call was never employed except by the "nabobs"--the
local name for John Merrick and his nieces--or by the manager of the
new mill at Royal, who had extended the line to his own office in the
heart of the pine forest.
So, when Uncle John and the girls entered Cotting's store and the little
gentleman shut himself up in the telephone booth, a ripple of
excitement spread throughout the neighborhood. Skim Clark, the
youthful hope of the Widow Clark, who "run the Emporium," happened

to be in the store and he rushed out to spread the news that "the nabob's
talkin' to New Yoruk!"
This information demanded immediate attention. Marshall McMahon
McNutt, familiarly known as "Peggy" McNutt--because he had once
lost a foot in a mowing machine--and who was alleged to be a real
estate agent, horse doctor, fancy poultry breeder and palmist, and who
also dabbled in the sale of subscription books, life insurance, liniment
and watermelons, quickly slid off his front porch across the way and
sauntered into Cotting's to participate in the excitement. Seth Davis, the
blacksmith, dropped his tools and hurried to the store, and the druggist
three doors away--a dapper gentleman known as Nib
Corkins--hurriedly locked his door and attended the meeting. Presently
the curious group was enlarged by the addition of Nick Thome the
liveryman, Lon Taft, a carpenter and general man-of-all-work, and
Silas Caldwell the miller, the latter a serious individual who had "jest
happened to come acrost from the mill in the nick o' time."
Sam Cotting, being himself of great local importance, had never
regarded with favor the rivalry of the nabob, but he placed stools near
the telephone booth for the three girls, who accepted the courtesy with
a graciousness that ought to have disarmed the surly storekeeper. They
could not fail to be amused at the interest they excited, and as they
personally knew every one of the town people they pleasantly nodded
to each arrival and inquired after their health and the welfare of their
families. The replies were monosyllables. Millville folks were diffident
in the presence of these city visitors and while they favored the girls
with rather embarrassing stares, their chief interest was centered on the
little man in the telephone booth, who could plainly be seen through the
glass door but might not be heard, however loudly he shouted.
"Talkin' to New Yoruk" was yet a marvelous thing to them, and much
speculation was exchanged in low tones as to the probable cost of such
a conversation as Mr. Merrick was now indulging in.
"Costs a dollar to connect, ye know," remarked Peggy McNutt to Ned
Long. "Bet a cookie he's runnin' the blame bill up to two dollars, with
all this chinnin'. Why can't th' ol' nabob write a letter, like common

folks, an' give his extry cash to the poor?"
"Meanin' you, Peggy?" asked Nib Corkins, with a chuckle.
"He might do wuss ner that," retorted Peggy.