John Marsh's Millions Part 6

"Wilson, I don't wish to be disturbed on any pretext whatever. Keep this door shut, and don't allow any one to enter no matter who it is."

Returning to his seat, he gave the lawyer a sign to proceed.

Calmly, deliberately, Mr. Cooley inserted a key in the lock. The lid flew open, revealing a number of papers within. The lawyer picked out a formidable-looking folded doc.u.ment, yellow with age. The cousins gasped.

Instinctively every one knew that it was the will. Unfolding it slowly, Mr. Cooley looked up to see if all were paying attention. Then, clearing his husky throat, he began to read in impressive, ministerial style:

"IN THE NAME OF ALMIGHTY G.o.d, AMEN!

"I, John Marsh, of the City of Pittsburg, in the State of Pennsylvania, being of sound health and understanding, do hereby declare this to be _my last will and testament_:

"First. I direct the payment of my just debts.

"Second. To my cousin, Thomas Marsh of Newark, N. J., I bequeath the sum of _Two Thousand dollars_ to belong to him and his heirs absolutely and forever.

"Third. To my cousin, the Reverend Peter Marsh of Rahway, N. J., I bequeath the sum of _Two Thousand dollars_ to belong to him and his heirs absolutely and forever.

"Fourth. The remainder of my estate, of whatsoever nature, real estate, bonds, stocks, interest in steel properties, etc., etc., which amounts to nearly _Five Million Dollars_, I bequeath to my only bro----"

Cras.h.!.+ Bang! In the hall outside there was the sound of shattered gla.s.s and the angry slamming of doors. Mr. Cooley stopped reading and, looking up, glared at the others in indignant surprise. This was rank sacrilege!

He wondered if he couldn't get some one committed for contempt of court.

The cousins, not sure whether they should be satisfied or not with Uncle John's remembrance of them, gazed at each other in consternation.

Jimmy, wrathful at this flagrant disregard of his explicit orders, rose to investigate. Outside in the hall could be heard the voice of the new butler raised in loud altercation with someone whose entrance into the library he was trying to prevent.

"Get out of my way! I tell you I will go in!" exclaimed an angry voice.

"It's Tod!" cried Mrs. Marsh, rising.

The library door was flung unceremoniously open and in walked Tod, trying to staunch with his handkerchief the blood which flowed freely from a cut finger. He was somewhat dishevelled after a lively scrimmage with the butler who, not recognizing him as a member of the family, had literally obeyed his master's instructions and attempted to bar the way.

It was a poor welcome home, but he was cheery and good natured as ever.

Kissing his mother boisterously, he said:

"Hallo, _mater_! How are you? Say--that new butler of yours is a bird--tried to keep me from coming in here to see you. Just think of it!

So I smashed him against the gla.s.s door and cut my finger." Looking around, a broad grin spread over his face. With well acted surprise, he exclaimed: "Why, what's going on here? Looks like a prayer meeting!"

Nodding familiarly to the lawyer and Mr. Marsh, he called out: "h.e.l.lo--Cooley! h.e.l.lo Jimmy!"

James Marsh, his face pale with suppressed irritation, snapped impatiently:

"We waited for you all morning. I told the butler to let no one come in.

A disturbance of this kind is most annoying." Turning to the lawyer, he added: "Now, Mr. Cooley, will you please continue----"

"What are you all doing?" grinned Tod.

"Please be quiet, Tod," said his mother, pulling him by the sleeve.

"Take a chair and listen. Mr. Cooley is reading the will."

"The will?" echoed Tod innocently. "What will?"

"John Marsh's will, of course. Really, Tod, what makes you so stupid?"

Exasperated, inwardly raging, Mr. Marsh made a sign to Mr. Cooley to proceed with the reading. The lawyer thus urged, resumed. In a loud voice he repeated:

"_I bequeath to my only brother_----"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THAT'S NOT JOHN MARSH'S WILL!"]

"That's not John Marsh's will!" cried Tod, again interrupting.

"Not the will!" exclaimed the cousins, aghast.

"Not my brother's will!" cried Jimmy, his face blanching.

"Not the will--what do you mean, sir?" roared Bascom Cooley.

"Just what I say!" replied Tod doggedly. "That sc.r.a.p of yellow parchment is only good for the waste-paper basket. John Marsh was married, and has a daughter living. Before he died he made a new will, leaving every cent to her!"

CHAPTER VI.

"Hilda!" called out a voice in a shrill, angry key. "Hilda!"

"Yes--m'm," came the slow reply.

The boarding house drudge, a bold looking Irish girl, not devoid of certain physical attractions, despite a dirty ap.r.o.n, dishevelled hair, and besmudged face, entered Mrs. Parkes' parlor, carrying broom and dust pan.

"Was it me yer wus after callin', m'm?" she demanded, in a rich, auld counthry brogue.

"I thought I told you to dust this room!" snapped her mistress, with rising wrath.

The girl looked stupidly around.

"Sure--ain't it dusted?" she answered saucily.

Mrs. Parkes bounded with anger. Losing all patience and pointing to an acc.u.mulation of dirt plainly in evidence under the chairs, she cried:

"Do you call that dusting? What have you been doing all day? It's always the same--nothing done. I don't know what we're coming to--having to run a respectable house with such help. All you girls think about nowadays is gadding about, getting as much wages as you can, and doing as little work as possible. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

Mrs. Parkes stopped her tirade for sheer want of breath. Hilda threw back her head defiantly.

"Maybe I ain't as good as some as think they're my betters, and maybe I am. If I don't suit, yer can get someone else. My month's up to-day.

I'll go at once."

Throwing down broom and dust pan, she bounced out of the room.

Mrs. Parkes looked after the disappearing form of her housemaid in consternation. She was sorry now that she had lost her temper. Servants were so hard to keep that it seemed the height of folly to deliberately send them away. It would have been better to put up with any insolence rather than expose herself to be left alone. How was it possible to run a boarding house without domestic help? Certainly things were coming to a pretty pa.s.s if a mistress couldn't say a few plain words of truth.

With a weary sigh of discouragement, she picked up the broom and started to do, herself, the work which Hilda had neglected.