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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"The Boss of Little Arcady"


"Well, that's _practically_ it. But I don't mind hinting a little, in
strict confidence." He dropped into a chair, sitting earnestly forward.
"You see, Cal, I remembered a little remark Mrs. Potts once made. I
believe it was the day after Mrs. Lansdale entertained the ladies' club
last summer--I remember she was complaining of a headache--"
"I never knew Mrs. Potts to make a little remark," I said. I was not to
be trifled with. Solon grinned.
"Well, perhaps this one wasn't so very little, only I never thought of
it again until this morning. It was about Mrs. Lansdale's furniture."
"Indeed," I said in cold disinterest, having designed to be told more.
"Well, Mrs. Potts thinks there may be something in it."
His effort was to seem significant, but those things are apt to fail
with me.
"Oh, I see. Well, that's a good idea, Solon, but you and Mrs. Potts are
slow. Billy Durgin had the same idea last summer while the furniture was
being unloaded. He took a good look at some of those old pieces, and he
confided to me in strict secrecy that there were probably missing wills
and rolls of banknotes hidden away in them. It seems that they're the
kind that have secret drawers.


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