Eben had said that if old Mr.
Whilthaugh, who knew the archive rooms through and
through, had not been turned out, they could do in
fifteen minutes what had cost them six hours, and that
old Mr. Whilthaugh, without looking, could tell whether
it was worth while to look. But old Mr. Whilthaugh had
been turned out, and Eben, even, did not know precisely
what had become of him. He thought he had gone back into
Pennsylvania, where his wife came from, but he did not
know.
"But, Matty, if nothing turns up to-day, I go to
Pennsylvania to-morrow to find this old Mr. Whilthaugh.
For I shall die if I stay here; and all the Eben
Rickettses in the world will never persuade me that the
vouchers are not in that archive-room. If the Navy did
the work, the Navy must have the vouchers."
Then Matty ventured to ask what she and her mother
had wondered about once and again,--why these particular
bits of paper were so necessary. Surely other vouchers,
or certified copies, or books of account could be found
somewhere!
"Yes! I know; you would say so. And if it were all
yesterday, and was all in these lazy times of peace,
you would say true. But you see, in the first place,
this is ever so long ago. Then, in the second place, it
was in the heat of war, when everything was on a gigantic
scale, and things had to be done in unheard-of ways.
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