"Depend on it, I just won't, Bristles," answered the other, positively.
It seemed a very long time until eleven o'clock the next morning; and Fred kept around the house, for he did not want to run upon Bristles, and have the other look at him in that eager way.
When he reached the place appointed for the meeting with Miss Muster he found her there, a heavy veil hiding her face. Together they made their way along the path that Gabe was accustomed to take as a short cut home.
"Do you think he took another of the opals, ma'am?" Fred asked, as they drew near the big hollow oak.
"I really had not the heart to look," she replied. "I gave him all the opportunity he could ask; and when he talked with me later on, I thought the boy looked confused; but I felt so sorry to think he had a mother who would be heart-broken, that I would not go into the parlor to examine. But guilt was written large on his face, or I am a poor judge of boy nature. Perhaps I am, after the mistake I made about my own nephew."
Fred soon found a spot where both of them could hide, and yet be very close to the big tree; indeed, a few steps would carry them alongside when the time came for action.
Then they settled down to wait. After a time the sound of bells told that noon had come. A few minutes later, and Fred touched the arm of his companion.
"That's Gabe coming now," he remarked.
And the trembling old maid could distinctly hear a very boisterous whistle that kept getting louder and louder as the butcher's boy strode jauntily along the path, heading in their direction.