know ez we-uns war thar, ’kase he war always a-jawin’ at me, ’thout the tanner war by ter keep him off’n me. So we-uns bided thar till
he
went inter the smoke-house. An’ then ez we-uns kem by the shed, Pig-wigs seen his uncle Nate’s coat hangin’ on a peg thar, ’kase that thar triflin’ Tim hed furgot, an’ lef’ it thar when he went ter see the deedies. An’ Pig-wigs Griggs, he ’lowed he knowed the coat war his uncle Nate’s by the favior of it, an’ he reckoned the paper stickin’ out’n the pocket war the grant he hed hearn Nate talkin’ ’bout. An’ I whispered ter him ez he hed better ondertake ter tote it home ter Nate. An’ Pig-wigs said he couldn’t tote the coat, bein’ so lumbered up with the deedie. But he would tote the grant in one hand an’ the deedie in t’other. He couldn’t put the deedie in one o’ his pockets, ’kase his mother sews ’em all up, bein’ ez he
would
kerry sech a passel o’ heavy truck in ’em, - rocks an’ sech, reg’lar bowlders,” added Rufe, with a casual remembrance of the museum in his own pockets. “So Pig-wigs’s mother sewed ’em all up, ’kase she said they war tore out all the time, an’ she seen no sense in a boy hevin’ a lot o’ slits in his clothes ter let in the air slanchwise on him. An’ Pig-wigs ’lowed he’d tote the grant ef I would git it fur him. An’ I did.”
“How did you-uns reach up ter that thar peg?” demanded Byers, pointing to the peg on which the coat had hung, far beyond Rufe’s reach.
“Clumb up on the wooden horse,” said Rufe promptly. “I peeked through the chinkin’ an’ seen ye thar a-smokin’ yer pipe over the fire.”
Rufe winked audaciously, suddenly convincing Byers as to the possessor of the big black eyes, which he had recognized as characteristic of the Dicey family, when they had peered through the chinking.
“Waal, how did the grant git inter the pit, Rufe, an’ what hev become of it?” asked Byers, overlooking these personalities, for he felt a certain anxiety in the matter, being the last person known to have seen the grant, which, by reason of his delay and indecision, had again been spirited away.
“Pig-wigs put it thar, I tell ye,” reiterated Rufe. “Ye see, I hed got outside o’ the gate, an’ Pig-wigs war a good ways behind, walkin’ toler’ble slow, bein’ ez he hed ter kerry the grant in one hand an’ the deedie in t’other. An’ thar I see a-cropin’ along on the ground a young rabbit - reg’lar baby rabbit. An’ I motioned ter Pig-wigs ter come quick - I hed fund suthin’. An’ ez Pig-wigs couldn’t put the deedie down, he laid the grant on top o’ the boards ez kivered the pit. But the wind war brief, an’ kem mighty nigh blowin’ that grant away. So Pig-wigs jes’ stuck it down ’twixt two planks, an’ kem ter holp me ketch the rabbit. But Pig-wigs warn’t no ’count ter holp. An’ the rabbit got away. An’ whilst Pig-wigs war foolin’ round, he drapped his deedie, an’ stepped on it - tromped the life out’n it.” Rufe’s expression was of funereal gravity. “An’ then he follered me every foot o’ the way home, beggin’ an’ beggin’ me ter gin him another. But I wouldn’t. I won’t gin no more o’ my deedies ter be tromped on, all round the mounting.”