Chapter 9 - Page 2

know that he is very rich, father. I think, however, that he has an
extravagant way of talking sometimes, and that his imagination carries
him away. I have heard him talk of plans which the richest man upon
earth could not possibly hope to carry through."

"Don't you make any mistake, my son. Your poor old father isn't quite a
fool, though he is only an honest broken merchant." He looked up
sideways at his son with a wink and a most unpleasant leer. "Where
there's money I can smell it. There's money there, and heaps of it.
It's my belief that he is the richest man in the world, though how he
came to be so I should not like to guarantee. I'm not quite blind yet,
Robert. Have you seen the weekly waggon?"

"The weekly waggon!"

"Yes, Robert. You see I can find some news for you yet. It is due this
morning. Every Saturday morning you will see the waggon come in. Why,
here it is now, as I am a living man, coming round the curve."

Robert glanced back and saw a great heavy waggon drawn by two strong
horses lumbering slowly along the road which led to the New Hall. From
the efforts of the animals and its slow pace the contents seemed to be
of great weight.

"Just you wait here," old McIntyre cried, plucking at his son's sleeve
with his thin bony hand. "Wait here and see it pass. Then we will
watch what becomes of it."

They stood by the side of the road until it came abreast of them. The
waggon was covered with tarpaulin sheetings in front and at the sides,
but behind some glimpse could be caught of the contents. They
consisted, as far as Robert could see, of a number of packets of the
same shape, each about two feet long and six inches high, arranged
symmetrically upon the top of each other. Each packet was surrounded by
a covering of coarse sacking.

"What do you think of that?" asked old McIntyre triumphantly as the load
creaked past.

"Why, father? What do you make of it?"

"I have watched it, Robert--I have watched it every Saturday, and I had
my chance of looking a little deeper into it. You remember the day when
the elm blew down, and the road was blocked until they could saw it in
two. That was on a Saturday, and the waggon came to a stand until they
could clear a way for it. I was there, Robert, and I saw my chance.
I strolled behind the waggon, and I placed my hands upon one of those
packets. They look small, do they not? It would take a strong man to
lift one. They are heavy, Robert, heavy, and hard with the hardness of
metal. I tell you, boy, that that waggon is loaded with gold."

"Gold!"

"With solid bars of gold, Robert. But come into the