“Ob a ’cindery? No, hit ain’ dat.”
“What do you think, then, Joe?”
“W’at I t’ink? Some low-down sneak sot hit afire. Dat’s w’at I t’ink. An’ I wouldn’ hab ter hunt long afore I done laid my han’s on him, neider.” Jessie looked so shocked, and so cast down, that, chancing to catch the old man’s eye, I shook my head at him warningly. Joe understood. His beloved master Ralph’s tactics had been those of silence and Joe was willing to follow them to the end. But he muttered scornfully: “’Cindery? Dat a likely idee; w’en I nebber lef’ a heap o’ stuff like dat ag’in’ nobody’s house en all my life! Look like I’d go fur ter doin’ hit now, w’en dish yer house hole my own fambly!”
He seated himself in the corner with a bit of harness that he had brought up to the house to mend, in his hand, but presently he began searching anxiously for some mislaid tool.
“What have you lost, Joe?” I asked.
“W’y I ain’ right shore as I done los’ anyt’ing, chile, but de needle an’ t’read w’at I put in dis cheer, ag’in’ I wanted ’em, ’pear to hab crope away some’ers; likewise dat ar leetle case knife w’at I cuts leather wiv’. Dey’s gone, an’ I doan see dat chile Ralph ’round’ nowhere’s.”
Just at this point the door was pushed a little farther open and a cheerful voice proclaimed: “Here me is, Doe!”
The voice was followed by its owner, little Ralph, but such a curious spectacle the boy presented that the occupants of the room stared at him a moment in amazed silence. Jessie was the first to recover her power of speech and remonstrance:
“Ralph! Oh, what have you been doing, you naughty, naughty boy!”
It was evident that the little trespasser had not realized that his recent occupation had been in any way objectionable. His lips began to quiver, but he stood his ground manfully.