“Don’t you remember?” says Silas.
“I hain’t certain,” says Mr. Tidd, scratching his leg again. “Don’t seem to remember anythin’.”
“Money,” says Silas.
“Oh, money?” Mr. Tidd says, as vague as a cloud of fog.
“Lots of money,” says Silas.
“Do tell,” says Mr. Tidd.
“And my mill.”
“Oh,” says Mr. Tidd. “It’s your mill that’s on fire?”
“My mill hain’t afire. Nothin’s afire. You hain’t standin’ there tellin’ me you plumb clean forgot?”
“I hain’t forgot exactly, Silas, but it don’t seem like I remember clear. You might sort of give me a hint.”