CHAPTER LX.
TOM HUTCHINS' LETTER.
"When you was at our house, talking to par, I heard purty much all that was said, and should a heard it all if it hadn't been for the squalling of the young uns. Now he didn't know a circumstance to what I did. Just driving a person down to a sloop don't amount to nothing, if you can't tell where she was a going."
"True enough, my young friend; but what more can you tell me?"
"Well now, if you'll promise not to laugh or poke fun at me, I'll up and tell."
"Well, I promise that."
"And you wont be mad, nor nothing?"
"I think not."
"And—and—" Here Tom grew red as a winter apple, and stammered most unmerciful.
"Well, and what? I dare say you can ask nothing which I will not promise."