When Captain Wegg died Old Hucks，his hired man，and Hucks'blind wife Nora were the only dependents on the place，and the ancient couple had naturally remained there when Joe scorned his inheritance and ran away.After the sale they had no authority to remain but were under no compulsion to move out，so they clung to their old quarters.
When McNutt was handed his letter by the postmaster and storekeeper he stared at its contents in a bewildered way that roused the loungers to amused laughter.
"What's up，Peggy？"called Nick Thorne from his seaton the counter."Somebody gone off'n me hooks an'left ye a fortun'？""Peggy"was one of McNutt's most popular nicknames，acquired because he wore a short length of pine where his absent foot should have been.
"Not quite，"was the agent's slow reply；"but here's theblamedest funniest communicate a man ever got！It's fromsome critter that knows the man what bought the Wegg farm.""Let's hear it，"remarked Cotting，the store—keeper，a fatindividual with a bald head，who was counting matches from a shelf into the public match—box.He allowed "the boys"just twenty free matches a day.
So the agent read the letter in an uncertain halting voice，and when he had ？nished it the little group stared at one another for a time in thoughtful silence.
"Wall，I'll be plunked，"finally exclaimed the blacksmith.
"Looks like the feller's rich，don't it？"
"Ef he's rich，what the tarnationa blazes is he comin'here for？"demanded Nib Corkins，the dandy of the town."I was over t'Huntingdon las'year，'n'seen how the rich folks live.Boys，this h'ain't no place for a man with money.""That depends，"responded Cotting，gravely."I'm sure we'd all be better off if we had a few real bloods here to squanderb their substance.""Well，here's a perposal to squander，all right，"saidMcNutt."But the question is，does he know what he's runnin'up agin'，and what it'll cost to do all the idioticc things as he says？""Prob'ly not，"answered the storekeeper.
"It's the best built farm house 'round thest parts，"announced the miller，who had been silent until now."Old Wegg were a sea—cap'n once，an'rich.He dumped a lot o'
money inter that place，an'never got it out agin'，nuther.""'Course not.Sixty acres o'cobble—stone don't pay muchdivvydends，that I ever hearn tell on，"replied Seth.
"There's some good fruit，though，"continued Caldwell，"an'the berries allus paid the taxes an'left a little besides.Ol'Hucks gits along all right.""Jest lives，'n'that's all.""Well，thet's enough，"said the miller."It's about all any of us do，ain't it？""Do ye take it this 'ere Merrick's goin'to farm，er what？"asked Nib，speculatively.
"I take it he's plumb crazy，"retorted the agent，rubbing the fringe of hair behind his ears."One thing's certain boys，I don't do nuthin'foolish till I see the color of his money.""Make him send you ten dollars in advance，"suggestedSeth.
"Make him send fifty，"amended the store—keeper."You can't buy a cow，an'pigs，an'chickens，an'make repairs on much less.""By jinks，I will！"cried McNutt，slapping his leg foremphasis."I'll strike him fer a cool ？fty，an'if the feller don't pay he kin go to blazesa.Them's my sentiments，boys，an'I'll stand by 'em！"The others regarded him admiringly，so the energetic little man stumped away to inditeb his characteristic letter toMajor Doyle.
If the ？rst communication had startled the little village，the second fairly plunged it into a panic of excitement.Peggy's hand trembled as he held out the ？ve hundred dollar draft and glared from it to his croniesa with a white face.
"Suff'rin'Jehu！"gasped Nick Thorne."Is it good？"The paper was passed reverentlyb around，and examined with a succession of dubiousc head—shakes.
"Send for Bob West，"suggested Cotting."He's seen moreo'that sort o'money than any of us."The widow Clarke's boy，who was present，ran breathlessly to fetch the hardware dealer，who answered the summons when he learned that Peggy McNutt had received a "check"for ？ve hundred dollars.
West was a tall，lean man with shrewd eyes coveredby horn spectacles and a stubby gray mustache.He was the potentated of the town and reputed to be worth，at a conservative estimate，in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars—"er more，fer that matter；fer Bob ain't tellin'his business to nobody."Hardware and implements were acknowledged to be paying merchandise，and West lent money on farm mortgages，besides.He was a quiet man，had a good library in his comfortable rooms over the store，and took theonly New York paper that found its way into Millville.After a glance at the remittancea he said：
"It's a draft on Isham，Marvin &Company，the New York bankers.Good as gold，McNutt.Where did you get it？""A lunitic named John Merrick，him that's bought the Cap'n Wegg farm，sent it on.Here's his letter，Bob."The hardware dealer read it carefully and gave a low whistle.
"There may be more than one John Merrick，"he said，thoughtfully."But I've heard of one who is many times a millionaire and a power in the ？nancial world.What will you do for him，McNutt，to expend this money properly？""Bless't if I know！"answered the man，his eyes bulgingwith a helpless look."What 'n thunder kin I do，Bob？"West smiled.
