Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work

"What do you mean?"

"Why, settin' that 'Liza to watch 'em, and tell all they does. Who'd a thought of it but 'Rast Hopkins?"

"I don't see anything mighty funny about that," declared Mrs. Hopkins, contemptuously. "The girl's too pert and forward for anything. I told 'Rast not to fool with her, or she'd make him trouble."

"Did you, now!" exclaimed the man, wonderingly.

"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Hopkins, pleased to have made an impression. "I suspected there was something wrong about her the morning she came to the house here. And she changed her name, too, as brassy as you please."

"Well, I declare!" said the visitor. "Did you know her before that, Mrs. Hopkins?"

"Why, I didn't exactly know her, but I seen her workin' around Miss Squiers's place many a time, and she didn't seem to 'mount to much, even then. One day she stole a di'mond ring off'n old Miss Squiers and dug out, and I told Nancy then – Nancy's young Miss Squiers – that I'd always had my suspicions of the hussy. She hid the ring in a vase on the mantle and they found it after she was gone."

"Well, well! I didn't know that about her," said the man, looking with admiration at Mrs. Hopkins.

"That's why I told 'Rast not to have any truck with her, when she came here bright and early one morning and asked for work."

"Oh, she came here, did she?"

"While I was gettin' breakfast. She said her name was Eliza Parsons, an' she was looking fer a job. I told her I knew her record an' to get out, and while we was arguin' 'Rast come out and took a hand in the talk. She laughed and flirted with him outrageous, and said she was a stranger in these parts, when I'd seen her many a time at Miss Squiers's."

"What was her name then?" asked the man.

"I think it was Rosie – or Lucy, or something – . Anyhow, it wasn't Eliza, and that I'll swear to. But the girl laughed at me and made such silly smiles at 'Rast that he told me to shut up, 'cause he had a use for her in politics."

"Well, well!" repeated the visitor. "Just see how stories get twisted. I heard you gave the girl a letter to your cousin Martha."

"Well, I did. 'Rast wanted to get her in at Elmhurst, to watch what Forbes was doing to defeat him, so he made me write the letter. But how'd you know so much about this girl?" she inquired, with sudden suspicion.

"Me? I only know what Mr. Hopkins told me. I'm one of his confidential men. But he never said how he happened to find the girl, or what he knew about her."

"He didn't know nothing. He'd never seen her 'till that morning when she came here. But he said she was clever, and she is, if pertness and a ready tongue counts for cleverness. I suppose he pays her for what she tells him about Forbes, but he'd better save his money and fight on the square. I don't like this tricky politics, an' never did."

"I don't either," declared the man. "But I'm in it, and can't get out."

"That's what 'Rast says. But some day they'll put him out, neck and crop, if he ain't careful."

"Is the girl Eliza much use to him?"

"I can't say. He drove her over to Elmhurst that morning, and he drives over two or three evenings a week to meet her on the sly and get her report. That may be politics, but it ain't very respectable, to my notion."

"Well, the campaign is nearly over, Mrs. Hopkins."

"Thank goodness for that!" she replied.

The visitor sat silent after this, for he had learned all that the poor gossiping woman could tell him. Finally he said:

"I guess your husband's going to be late."

"Yes; if he ain't more prompt than usual you'll have a long spell of waiting."

"Perhaps I'd better go over to the hotel and look him up. I have to get back to Fairview tonight, you know."

"Do as you please," she answered carelessly.

So Mr. Burke, for it was the detective, bade her good-night and took his leave, and it was not until after he had gone that Mary Hopkins remembered she had forgotten to ask him his name.

"But it don't matter," she decided. "He's just one o' 'Rast's politicians, and I probably treated the fellow better than he deserved."

CHAPTER XVIII

ELIZA PARSONS

On Sunday morning Mr. Burke again appeared at Elmhurst, and told Kenneth he wanted an interview with Eliza Parsons.

"I don't want you to send for her, or anything like that, for it would make her suspicious," he said. "I'd like to meet her in some way that would seem accidental, and not startle her."

"That is rather a hard thing to arrange, Mr. Burke," said the boy, with a smile.

"Why, I think not," declared Louise. "It seems to me quite easy."

"That's the woman of it, sir," laughed Kenneth; "if it's a question of wits her sex has the advantage of us."

"What do you propose, miss?" asked the detective, turning to Louise.

"I'll have Martha send the girl into the garden to gather flowers," she replied; "and you can wander around there and engage her in conversation."

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Can this be arranged now?"

"I'll see, sir."

She found Martha and asked her to send Eliza Parsons for some roses and chrysanthemums, which were in a retired place shut in by evergreen hedges.

"One of the other maids will know the garden better," suggested the housekeeper.

"But I wish Eliza to go."

"Very well, Miss Louise."

From an upper window the girl watched until she saw Eliza Parsons leave the house with a basket and go into the retired garden she had chosen. Then she returned to the library for Mr. Burke and led him toward the same place.

"Eliza is just beyond that gap in the hedge," she said, and turned away.

"Wait a moment, please," he said, detaining her. "On second thought I would like you to come with me, for your tact may be of great assistance. Have you spoken much with Eliza?"

"Not at all, I think. Beth has talked with her, but I have scarcely been near her since she came here."

"You are willing to come?"