"Well, I should hope so!"
"I'll see to that, 'Bias—whatever happens."
"So will I, o' course." 'Bias turned to refill his pipe.
Cai was watching him narrowly. "Happen that mightn't be none too easy," he suggested.
"Why so?"
"Heark'n to me now: I got something more serious to tell. The Lord send we may be mistaken, but—supposin' as Rogers has played the rogue?"
'Bias, not at all discomposed, went on filling his pipe. "I see what you're drivin' at," said he. "'Tis the same tale Philp was chantin' just now, over the wall; how that Rogers had lost his own money and ours as well, and 'twas in everybody's mouth. Which I say to you what I said to him: ''Tis the old story,' I says, 'let a man be down on his back, and every cur'll fly at him.'"
"But suppose 'twas true? . . . Did Rogers ever show the bonds and papers for your money?"
"'Course he did. Showed me every one as they came in, and seemed to make a point of it. 'Made me count 'em over, some time back. 'Wouldn' let me off 'till I'd checked 'em, tied 'em up in a parcel, docketed 'em, sealed 'em, and the Lord knows what beside. Very dry work. I claimed a glass o' grog after it."
"And then you took 'em away?" asked Cai with a sudden hope.