“No, Uncle Shad,” she said, “I shan’t stop it.  I know all about Hamilton and Company’s condition; perhaps I know it better than you do.  This is the fifth night that I have been working over those books and I should know, at least.”

“The fifth night!  Do you mean to say—­”

“I mean that I knew you wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to know; I had to see these books for myself and at night was the only time I could do it.  But never mind that now,” she added.  “We’ll talk of that later.  Other things come first.  Uncle Shad and Uncle Zoeth, I know not only about the affairs of Hamilton and Company, but about my own as well.”

Zoeth leaned forward and stared at her.  He seemed to catch the significance of the remark, for he looked frightened, whereas Shadrach was only puzzled.

“You—­you know what, Mary-’Gusta?” faltered Zoeth.  “You mean—­”

“I mean,” went on Mary, “that I know where the money came from which has paid my school bills and for my clothes and my traveling things and all the rest.  I know whose money has paid all my bills ever since I was seven years old.”

Shadrach rose from his chair.  He was as frightened as his partner now.

“What are you talkin’ about, Mary-’Gusta Lathrop?” he shouted.  “You know!  You don’t know nothin’!  You stop sayin’ such things!  Why don’t you stop her, Zoeth Hamilton?”

Zoeth was speechless.  Mary went on as if there had been no interruption.

“I know,” she said, “that I haven’t a penny of my own and never did have and that you two have done it all.  I know all about it—­at last.”

If these two men had been caught stealing they could not have looked more guilty.  If, instead of being reminded that their niece had spent their money, they had been accused of misappropriating hers they could not have been more shaken or dumbfounded.  Captain Shadrach stood before her, his face a fiery red and his mouth opening and shutting in vain attempts at articulation.  Zoeth, his thin fingers extended in appeal, was the first to speak.

“Mary-’Gusta,” he stammered, “don’t talk so!  Please don’t!”

Mary smiled.  “Oh, yes, I shall, Uncle Zoeth,” she said.  “I mean to do more than talk from now on, but I must talk a little first.  I’m not going to try to tell you what it means to me to learn after all these years that I have been dependent on you for everything I have had, home and luxuries and education and opportunities.  I realize now what sacrifices you must have made—­”

“We ain’t, neither!” roared the Captain, in frantic protest.  “We ain’t, I tell you.  Somebody’s been tellin’ lies, ain’t they, Zoeth?  Why—­”

“Hush, Uncle Shad!  Someone has been telling me—­er—­fibs—­I said that at the beginning; but they’re not going to tell me any more.  I know the truth, every bit of it, about Father’s losing his money in stocks and—­Uncle Shad, where are you going?”