"It certainly is queer for Berk to act so," continued Miss Ri, "and the queerest part of the whole business to me is that he has not been near us for two weeks."
"He did come, you remember, that day you went to the country with Mrs. Becky."
"And he was as nice and friendly as could be the day I met him at the postoffice."
"But he hasn't sent us those ducks," contended Miss Ri.
The very next morning after this talk Wyatt Jeffreys met Berkley Matthews on the street just outside the Jackson House. "Hallo," cried the latter. "Just have your note. I've been staying with John Emory, and we've been off ducking so I didn't get my mail till this morning. It certainly would be a good joke if I had captured your trunk. Suppose you come and have a look at it, and if you identify it, of course you shall have it without delay. Come up to my room."
As Mr. Jeffreys followed the springing step all suspicion fled. Once in the room the trunk was easily recognized. "There were some papers," said Mr. Jeffreys.
"Oh, yes, they are over at my office. I had to get a locksmith to open the trunk for me, and he had to put on a new lock, as you see. I took out the clothing over here, sent the trunk across the way, dumped out the papers in a valise without looking at them, and there they are. You can get them any time."
"I'd like you to go over them with me when you have time, Matthews."
"Very well. Just now I am a little rushed, but we can take it up later when I get this case through I am now at work upon. In the meantime I will see that you get the trunk and the rest of the things. I'll try to get them off this afternoon. I am certainly glad I happened to take a fancy to your trunk, but what a queer coincidence it is. I never associated it with you at all. Those initials, J. S. D. would have misled me in any event. I told Miss Ri they stood for Judge Some Day, and I think they are about the only part of the trunk I feel loth to give up."
Mr. Jeffreys smiled. It was like a sentimental Southerner, he thought. Then, after some discussion about cost of transportation and all that, the matter was settled to the satisfaction of both.
With the delivery of the trunk came the ducks, not inside the trunk, of course, for that contained everything which was in it at the time of Berkley's first possession, everything except the papers. The trunk was brought to Miss Parthy's by an old colored man picturesquely antique both as regarded his costume and himself. Uncle Moke everyone called him, his real name of Moses having fallen into disuse so long before that no one remembered it. He was general factotum around town and a trusty messenger. He had delivered his first charge at Miss Parthy's door, and then was ready for Miss Ri. Nothing pleased him more than such an errand. "Evenin' Miss Ri," said the old fellow with many a bow and scrape, his ragged hat in his hand. "Mr. Berk Matthews' compliments, Miss Ri, an' dese yer ducks, Miss. He say he hopes yuh-alls have 'em fo' suppah, an' he be 'long 'bout seben fo' to he'p yuh-alls eat 'em," the last with a little chuckle of pleasure at delivering such a message.