“Here’s a growing lad, and loyal, I believe. What if I took him a yard into my confidence?”
“Oh, yes, dad,” I said, eagerly. “You can trust me, indeed you can. I only want to be of some use.”
He slightly shook his head, then seemed to wake up all of a sudden.
“There,” he said; “be off, like a good boy, and don’t worry me a second time. You meant well, and I’m not offended.”
“Yes, dad,” I said a little sadly, and was turning to go, when he spoke to me again:
“And if the girl should mention this matter—you know what—to you, say what I tell you now—that Dr. Crackenthorpe thinks your father can tell him where more coins are to be found like the one I gave him that night; but that your father can’t and is under no obligation to Dr. Crackenthorpe—none whatever.”
So I left him, puzzled, a little depressed, but proud to be the recipient of even this crumb of confidence on the part of so reserved and terrible a man.
Still I could not but feel that there was something inconsistent in his words to me and those I had heard him address to the doctor. Without a doubt his utterances on the road had pointed to a certain recognition of the necessity of bribing the other to silence.
CHAPTER VI.
THE NIGHT BEFORE.
Full of dissatisfaction I wandered into the shed and loitered aimlessly about. As I stood there Jason came clattering homeward, his coat collar turned up and his curly head bowed to the deluge.