one had a more vivid interest in their history than Marshall McMahon
McNutt. He enjoyed gossiping about the Weggs almost as much as he did
selling books.

"I never thought I had no call to stick my nose inter other folkses
privit doin's," he said, after a few puffs at the corncob pipe. "But
they kain't hide much from Marsh McNutt, when he has his eyes open."

Patsy wondered if he could possibly close them. The eyelids seemed to be
shy and retiring.

"I seen what I seen," continued the little man, glancing impressively at
his attentive audience. "I seen Cap'n Wegg livin' without workin', fer
he never lifted a hand to do even a chore. I seen him jest settin'
'round an' smokin' his pipe an' a glowerin' like a devil on ev'ryone
thet come near. Say, once he ordered me off'n his premises--me!"

"What a dreadful man," said Patsy. "Did he buy any 'Lives of the
Saints?'"

"Not a Life. He made poor Ol' Hucks fetch an' carry fer him ev'ry
blessid minnit, an' never paid him no wages."

"Are you sure?" asked Louise.

"Sure as shootin'. Hucks hain't never been seen to spend a cent in all
the years he's been here."

"Hasn't he sold berries and fruit since the Captain's death?"