Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 107, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 May 1914 — WHERE THERE'S A WILL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WHERE THERE'S A WILL

by MARY ROBERTS RINEHART

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SYNOPSIS. Minnie, eprinc-houee girl at Hope sanatorium, tells the story. It opens with the arrival of Miss Patty Jennings, who is reported to be engaged to marry a prince, and the death of the old doctor who owns the sanatorium. The estate Is left to a scapegrace grandson, Dicky Carter, who must appear on a certain date and run the sanatorium successfully for two months or forfeit the inheritance. A case of mumps delays Dick’s arrival. Mr. Thoburn Is hovering about in hopes of securing the place for a summer hotel. CHAPTER 111.—Continued. At half past five I just about gave up. It was dark outside, and nothing inside but firelight. Suddenly I seemed to feel somebody (looking at the back of my neck and I turned around. There was a man standing outside one of the windows, staring in. My first thought, of course, was that It was Mr. Dick, but just as the face vanished I saw that it wasn't. -It was older by three or four years than Mr. Dick’s and a bit fuller. I'm not nervous. I've had to hold my own against chronic grouches too long to have nerves, so I went to the door and looked out. The man came around the corner just then and I could see him plainly In the firelight. He ; was covered with snow, and he wore a sweater and no overcoat, but he looked like a gentleman. “I beg your pardon for spying,” he said, “but the fire looked so snug! I’ve been trying to get to the hotel over there, but in the dark I’ve lost then path.” "That’s not a hotel,” I snapped, for that touched me on the raw. “That’s Hope Springs Sanatorium, and this is one of the springs. You’d better come in and get warm.” He shut the door behind him and came over to the fire. “I’m pretty well frozen," he said. •Don’t be astonished If I melt before your eyes; I’ve been walking for hours." Now that I had a better chance to see him I’d sized up that drawn look around his mouth. “Missed your luncheon, I suppose,” I said, poking the fire log. He grinned rather sheepishly. "Well, I haven’t had any, and I’ve certainly missed it,” he said. "Fasting’s healthy, you know." "Nothing’s healthy that isn’t nab ural,” I declared. “If you’d care for a dieh of buttered and salted pop-corn, there’s some on the mantel. It’s pretty salty;' the idea is to make folks thirsty so they’ll enjoy the mineral water." "Think of raising a thirst only to drown it with spring water!” he said. But he got the pop-corn and he ate it all. If he hadn’t had any luncheon he hadn’t had much breakfast 'The queer part was—he was a gentleman; his clothes were the right sort, but he had on patent leather shoes in all that enow and an automobile cap. I put away the glass while berate. Pretty soon he looked up and the drawn lines were gone. He wasn’t like Mr. Dick, but he was the same type, only taller and heavier built. "And so it isn’t a hotel," he remarked. “Well, l’m sorry. The caravansary in the village is not to my liking, and I had thought of engaging a suite up here. My secretary usually, attends to

these things, but —don’t take away all the glasses, Heb—l beg your pardon —but the thirst is coming." He filled the, glass himself and then he came up and stood in front of me. with the glass held up in the air. "To the best woman I have met in many days/* he said, not mocking but serious. "I was about to lie down and . let the little birds cover me with leaves." Then he glanced at the empty . dish and smiled. "To buttered popcorn! Long may it wave!” he said, gnd emptied the glass. Well, I found a couple of apples in my pantry and brought them out, and after he ate them he told me what had happened to him. He had been a little of everything since he left college—he was about twenty-five—had crossed the Atlantic in a catboat and gone with somebody or other into some part of Africa- they got lost, and had to eat each other or Usards,

or something like that —and then he went to the Philippines, and got stuck there and had to s’fcll books to get home. He had a little money, “enough for a grub-stake," he said, and all his folks were dead. Then a college friend of hie wrote a rural play called "Sweet Peas"—“Great title, don’t you think?" he asked —and he put up all the money. It would have been a hit, he said, but the kid in the play —the one that unites its parents iri the last act just before he dies of tuberculosis —the kid took the mumps and looked as if, instead of fading away, he was going to blow up. Everybody was so afraid of him that they let him die alone for three nights In the middle of the stage. Then the leading woman took the mumps, and the sheriff took everything else.

Well, of course, the thing failed, and he lost every dollar he’d put into it, which was all he had, including what he had in his pockets. “They seized my trunks,” he explained, “and I sold my fur-lined overcoat for eight dollars, which took one of the girls back home. It’s hard for the women. A fellow can always get some sort of a job—l was coming up here to see if they needed an extra clerk, or a waiter, or chauffeur, far anything that meant a roof and something to eat—but I suppose they don’t need a jack-of-all-trades.”

“No,” I answered, “but I’ll tell you what I think they’re going to need. And that’s an owner!" • • • • • • • I’m not making excuses. I did it for the best If Mr. Thoburn had not been there, sitting by to see the old sanatorium die so it could sprout wings and fly as a summer hotel, I'd never have thought of it But I was in spair. I got up and opened the door, but the snow came in in a cloud, and the path was half a foot deep again. But the angel of providence appeared in the ehape of Mike, the bath man, coming down through the snow in a tearing rage. The .instant I saw Mike I knew it was settled. “Am I or am I not to give Mr. Moody a needle shower?" he shouted, almost beside himself. And I saw he had his overcoat over his bath costume, which is a Turkish towel. “A needle shower followed by a salt rub,” said I. “He’s been having them for eleven years. What’s the matter?” “That fool of a young doctor,” shouted Mike, "he told him before he left that if he’d been taking them for eleven »years and wasn’t any better it was time to stop. Ain’t business bad enough—only four people in the house takln’ baths regular—without-his buttin' in!" "Where’s Mr. Moody?” “Ip the bath. I’ve locked up his clothes.” “You give him a needle shower and a salt rub,” I ordered, "and- if he makes a fuss just send for me. And, Mike,” I said, as he started out, "ask Mr. Van Alstyne to-come out here immediately.” Mr. Van Alstyne came out on the run, and when he saw Mr. Pierce by the fire—that was his name, Alan Pierce—he stopped and stared. Then he said:

"You infernal young scamp!** And with that Mr. Pierce jumped up, surprised and pretty mad, and Mr. Van Alstyne saw his mistake. “I’m sure I beg your pardon!** he said. “The fact is, I was expecting somebody else, and in the firelight— *' "You surprised me, that’s all,*’, said Mr. Pierce. "Under the circumstances. I’m glad I’m not the other chap.” “You may be,” Assured Mr. Sam grimly. "You’re not unlike him, by the way. A little taller and heavier, but—” Now It’s all very well for Mr. Sam to say I originated the idea and all that, but as truly as I am writing this, as I watched his face I saw the same thought come into it He looked Mr. Pierce up and down, and then he stared Into the fire and puckered bls mouth to whistle, but he didn’t And finally he glanced at me, but I was looking at the fire, too. Mr. Sam got up and began to walk the floor, his hands in his pockets. He tried to get my eye, but still I looked In the fire.

"All traffic’s held up, Minnie," he said. "The eight o’clock train is stalled beyond the junction, in a drift I’ve wired the conductor, and Carter isn't on it” , "Well?" said L "If we could only get past to-day," Mr. Sam went on; "If Thoburn would only choke to death, or —if there was somebody around who looked like Dick. J dare say, by tomorrow—" He looked at Mr. Pierce, who smiled and looked at him. "And I resemble Dick!" said Mr Pierce. "Well, if he’s a moral and upright young man—" "He isn’t!" Mr. Sam broke in savagely. And then and there he sat dowm and told Mr. Pierce the trouble we were in, and what sort of sheerful idiot Dicky Carter was. And then Mr. Pierce told about the play and the mumps, and how he was stranded. When Mr Bam asked him outright if

he’d take Mr. Dick’s place overnight he agreed at once. / Just as they'd got it arranged that Mr. Pierce was to put on Mr.. Sam’s overcoat and walk down to the village so that he could come up In a sleigh, as If he had driven over from Yorkton—he was only to walk across the hall in front of the office, with his collar up, just enough to show himself and then go to his room with a chill — just as it was all arranged, Mr. Sam thought of something. "The house people are waiting for Dick,” he said to me, “and about forty women are crocheting In the lobby, so they’ll be sure to see him. Won't some of them know it Isn’t Dick?” I thought pretty fast t. "He hasn’t been around much lately,” I said. "Nobody would know except,; Mrs. Wiggins. She’ll never forget him; the last time he was here he put on her false front like a beard and wore it down to dinner." “Then it’s all off," be groaned. "She’s got as many eyes as a potato.” "And about as much sense," said I. "Fiddlesticks! She’s not so good we can’t replace her, and what's the use of swallowing a camel and then sticking at a housekeeper?" “You can’t get her out of the house in an hour,” he objected, but in a weak voice. “I can!" I said firmly. (I did. Inside of an hour she went to the clerk, Mr. Slocum, and handed In her resignation. She was a touchy

person, but I did not say all that was quoted. I did not say the kitchen was filthy; I only said it took away my appetite to look in at the doop But she left, which is the point.) ( Well, I stood in the doorway and watched them disappear in the darkness, and I felt better than I had all day. It's great to be able to do something, even if that something Is wrong. But as I put on my shawl and turned out the lights, I suddenly remembered. Miss Patty would be waiting in the lobby for Mr. Dick, and she would not be crocheting!

CHAPTER IV. 1 Whoever has charge of the springhouse at Hope Springs takes the news stand in the evening. That's an old rule. After I ate my supper I relieved Amanda King, who runs the news stand In the daytime, when she isn’t laid off with the toothache. Mr. San} was right All the women had on their puffs, and they were sitting in a half-circle on each side of the door. Mrs. Sam was there, looking frightened and anxious, and standing near the card-room door was Miss Patty. She was all in white, with two red spots on her cheeks, and I thought if her prince could have seen her then he would pretty nearly have eaten her up.

Mr. Sam came to the news stand, and he was so nervous he could hardly light a cigarette. “I’ve had a message from one of the detectives," he said. "They’ve traced him to Salem, Ohio, but they lost him there. If we can only hold on this evening—! Isn’t that the sleigh F* Everybody had heard it The women sat up and craned forward to look at the door: Mrs. Sam was sitting forward clutching the arms of Mter chair. She was in white, having Jald off her black for that evening, with a red rose pinned on her so Mr. Pieroe would know her. Miss Patty heard the sleighbells also, and she turned and came toward the door. Her mouth was set hard, and she was twisting her ring as she always did when she was nervous. And nt the same moment Mr. Sam and I both saw it; she was in white, top, and she had a red rose tucked in her belt! Mr. Sam muttered something and rushed at her, but he was too late. Just as he got to her the door opened and in came. Mr. Pierce, with Mr. Sam's far coat turned up around bls ears and Mr. Sam’s fur cap drawn well down on his head. He stood for

an instant blinking in the light, and Mrs. Van Alstyne got up nervously. He never even saw her. His eyes lighted on Miss Patty’s face and stayed there. Mr. Sam was there, but what could he. do? Mr. Pierce walked Over to Miss Patty, took her hand, said, “Hello there!" and kissed her. It was awful. Most women will do anything to save a scene, and that helped us, for she never turned a hair. But when Mr. Sam got him by the arm «nd led him toward the stairs, she turned so that the old cats sitting around could not see' her and her face was scarlet She went over to the wood fire—our lobby is a sort of big room with chairs and tables and palms, and an open fire in the winter—afid sat down. I don’t think she knew herself whether she was most astonished or angry. Mrs. Biggs gave a nasty laugh. “Your brother didn’t see you,” she said to Mrs. Van Alstyne. "I dare say a sister doesn’t count much when a future princess is around!” Mrs. Van Alstyne was still staring up the staircase, but she came to hereelf at that. She had some grit In her, if she did look like a French doll. “My brother and Miss Jennings are very old friends,” she remarked Quietly. I believe that was what she thought, too. I don’t think she had seen the other red rose, and what was she to think but that Mr. Pierce had known Miss Jennings>somewhere? She was dazed, Mrs. Sam wae. But she carried off the situation anyhow,* and gave us time to breathe. We needed it “If I were his highness," said Miss Cobb, spreading the Irish lace collar she was making over her knee and squinting at it, "I should wish my fiancee to be more—er —dignified. Those old Austrian families are very haughty. They would not understand our American habit of osculation.” I was pretty mad at that for anybody could have seen Miss Patty didn’t kiss him.

“If by osculation you mean kissing, Miss Cobb,” I said, going over to her, "I guess you don’t remember the Austrian count who was a head waiter here. If there was anything in the way of osculation that that member of an old Austrian family didn’t know; I’ve got to find It out He could kiss all around any American I ever saw!" I went back to my news stand. I was shaking so my knees would hardly hold me. All I could think of was that they had swallowed Mr. Pierce, bait and hook, and that for a time we were saved, although In the electric light Mr. Pierce was a good bit less like Dicky Carter than he had seemed to be in the spring-house by the fire. Well, “Sufficient unto the day Is the evil thereof.” Everybody went to bed early. Mr. Thoburn came over and bought a cigar on his way upstairs, and he was as gloomy as he had been cheerful before. “Well,” I said, "I guess you won’t put a dancing floor In the dining-room just yet, Mr. Thoburn.” “I’m not in a hurry,” he snapped. "It’s only January, and I don’t want the place until May. I’ll get it when I'm ready for it I had a good look at young Carter, and he’s got too square a jaw to run a successful neurasthenics’ home.”

I went to the pantry shelf at ten o’clock and fixed a tra/ of supper for Mr. Pierce. I found some chicken and got a bottle of the old doctor’s wine— I had kept the key of his wine-cellar since he died—and carried the tray up to Mr. Pierce’s sitting-room. He had the old doctor’s suite. The-door was open an inch or so, and as I was about to knock I heard a girl’s voice. It was Miss Patty! "How can you deny it?” she was saying angrily. "I dare say you will even deny that you ever saw this letter before!" There was a minute’s pause while I suppose he looked at the letter. * “I never did!” he said solemnly. "Perhaps,” said Miss Patty, "you also deny that you were in Ohio the day before yesterday.” “I was in Ohio, but I positively assert —•” “Mr. Carter, I have asked my question twice now and I am waiting for an answer.” "But I don’t know, the answer!” he said miserably. "I—l assure you, I’m absolutely In the dark. I don’t know what’s in the letter. I haven’t always done what I should, I dare say, but my conduct in the state of Ohio during the last few weeks has been without stain —unless I’ve forgotten—but if It had been anything very heinous. I’d remember, don’t you think F’ Somebody crossed the room, and a paper rustled. ' "Read that!" said Miss Patty’s voice. And then silence for a minute. “Good Lord!” exclaimed Mr. Pierce. “Do you deny that?” he said flrmly. "I—l have never even heard of the Revere end Dwight Johnstone— ■’’ “And that is all you will say?” demanded Mias Patty scornfully. ’You don’t know;* ‘there’s a mistake;' *you never saw the letter before!' Oh, if I were only a man!” "I'M tell you what we’ll do,” Mr.

Pierce said, with something like hope In his voice. “We’ll send for Mr. Van Alstyne? That’s the thingy of course. I’ll send so Mr. Van Alstyne’s name IS Sam, but nobody noticed: "Mr. Van Alstyne!" repeated Miss Patty in a dazed way. I guessed It was about time to make a diversion, so I knocked and walked In with the tray, and they glared at me. . ? “I’ve brought your supper, Mr. Carter," I began. Then I stopped and stared. "Oh," I said. “Thank you," said Mr. Pierce, very uncomfortable. “Just put It down anywhere.”

I stalked across the room and put It on the table. Then I turned. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but it’s one of the rules of this house that guests don’t come to these rooms. They’re strictly private. It Isn’t my rule, but if you will step down to the parlor—” Mr. Pierce took a quick step toward Miss Patty and looked down at her. “About —what happened down-stairs to-night,” he stammered, with the unhappiest face I ever saw on a man, "I—l’ve been ready to knock my fool head off ever since. It was a mistake —a—-

"My letter, please.” said Miss Patty, looking back at him without a blink. “Please don't look like that!” he begged. "I came In suddenly out of the darkness, and you—” “My letter, please!” she said again, raising tier eyebrows. He gave up trying then. He held out the letter and she took it and went put with her head up and scorn in the very way she trailed her skirt over the door-sill. But I’m no fool; It didn’t need the way he touched the /door-knob where she had been holding it, when he closed the door after her, to tell me what ailed him. He was crazy about her from the minute he saw her, and he hadn’t a change of linen or a cent to hie name. And she, as you might say, on the ragged edge of royalty, with queens and princes sending her'stomachers and tiaras until she’d hardly need clothes. Well, a cat may look at a king. He went over to the fireplace, where I was putting his coffee to keep It hot, and looked down at me.

“I've a suspicion, Minnie," he said, "that, to use a vulgar expression, I’ve bitten off more than I can chew in this little undertaking, and that I’m in imminent danger of choking to death. Do you know, anybody, a friend of Mlse —er —Jennings, named Dorothy?” “She’s got a younger sister of that name,” I, said; with a sort of chill going over me. “She’s in boardingschool now.” "Oh, no, she’s not!” he remarked, picking up the coffee-pot. "It seems that I met her on the train somewhere or other the day before yesterday, and ran off with her and married her!” I sat back on the rug speechless. Don’t tell me the way of the wicked is hard; the wicked get all the fun there is out of life, and ae far as I can see, it’s the respectable "in at ten o’clock and up at seven” part of the Wicked’s family that has all the trouble and does the worrying. "If we could only keep it hidden for a few days!” I said. "But, of course, the papers will get it, and just now, with columns every day about Miss Patty’s clothes—” “Her what?” K

"And all the princes of the blood sending presents, and the king not favoring it very much—” "What are you talking about?" "About Miss Jennings’ wedding. Don’t you read the newspaper?” He hadn’t really known who she was up to that minute. He put down the tray and got up. "I— l hadn’t connected her with the —the newspaper, Miss Jennings," he said, and lighted a cigarette over the lamp. Something in bis face startled me, I must say. “You’re not going to give up now?” I asked. I got up and put my hand on his atm, and I think he was shaking. “If you do. I'll—l’ll go out and drown myself, head down, in the spring—” He had been going to run away—l saw it then—but he put a hand over mine. Then he looked at the door where Miss Patty had gone out and gave himself a shake. “I’ll stay," he said. "We’ll light it out on this line if it takes all summer, Minnie. After all, what’s blue blood to good red blood?" Which was almost what the bishop had said! • • * • • • • Mr. Moody took indigestion that night—not but that hd always had it, but this was worse—and Mrs. Moody came to my room about two o’clock and knocked at the door. “You’d better come," she said. “There’s no doctor, and he’s awful bad.” We went down to Mr. Moody’s room, and he was sitting up in bed with his knees drawn up to his chin and a hotwater bottle held to him. 2 "Look at your work, woman," he said to me when I opened the door. "I’m dying!" / '■

"You look sick," I said, going over to the bed. It never does to cross them when they get to the water-bottle stage. “The pharmacy clerk’s gone to a dance over at Trimble’s, but I guess I can find you some whisky.” "I never touch the stuff and you both know it,” he snarled. He had a fresh pain just then and stopped, clutching up the bottle. “Besides, ’’ he finished, when it was over, "I haven’t got any whisky." Well, to make a long story short, wo got him to agree to some whisky from the pharmacy, with a drop of peppermint in It, if he could wash it down with spring water so it wouldn’t de any harm. I put on some stockings of Mr* Moody’s and a petticoat and a shawl and started for the spring house, i It was still snowing, and. part of the time Mrs. Moody's stockings were up to their knees. The wind was blowing hard, and when I rounded the corner of the house my lantern went out, I stood there in the . storm, with the shawl flapping, thanking heaven I was a eingle woman, and about ready to go back and tell Mr. Moody what I thought of him when I looked toward the spring-house. At first I thought it was afire, then I saw that the light was coming from the windows. Somebody was inside, with a big fire and all the lights going. I went over cautiously to one of tho windows, wading in deep snow to get there—and if you have ever done that in a pair of bedroom slippers you can realize thd state of my mind—and looked in. There'were three chairs drawn up in a row in front of the fire, with my bearskin hearth-rug on them to make a couch, and my shepherd’s plaid shawl folded at one end for a pillow. And stretched on that with her long sealskin coat laid over her was Dorothy Jennings, Miss Patty’s younger sister! She was alone, as far as I could see, and she was leaning on her elbow with her cheek in her hand, staring at the fire. Just then the door into the pantry opened and out canto Mr. Dick himself. "Were you calling, honey?" he said, coming over and looking down at her. "You were such a long time!” says she, glancing up under her lashes at him. “I —I was lonely!" ~ , , “Bless you/* says Mr. Dick, stooping over her. "What did I ever do without you?” I could have told her a few things he did, but by that time it was coming over me pretty strong that here was the real Dicky Carter and that I had an extra one on my hands. The minute I looked at this one I knew that nobody but a blind man would mistake one for the other, and Mr. Thoburn wasn’t blind. I tell you 1 stood out in that snow-bank and perspired! Well, It wae no place for me unless they knew I was around. I waded around to the door and walked in, and there was a grand upsetting of the sealskin coat and my shepherd's plaid * shawl. Mr. Dick jumped to his feet and Mrs. Dick sat bolt upright and stared at me over the backs of tho chairs. “Minnie!” cried Mr. Dick. “As I’m a married man, it's Minnie herself. Dorothy, don’t you remember Minnie?” She came toward me with her hand 1

out “I’m awfully glad to see you again," she said. “Of course 1 remember—why you are hardly dressed at all! You must be frosen!" I went over to the fire and emptied my bedroom slippers of snow. Then I sat down and looked at them both. "Frosen!" repeated I; “I’m in a hot sweat If you two children meant to come, why tn creation didn’t you come in time?" "We did," replied Mr. Dick, promptly. “We crawled under the wire fence into the deer park at five minutes to ■. twelve. The will said *Be on the ground,* and I was—flat on the ground! » (TO BB CONTINUED.) ||

There Was a Man Staring in.

“You Infernal Young Scamp!”

He Looked Down at Me.