"But he has not fallen, I hope! What was his error?"
"Do not let it trouble you, Squire, do not let it trouble you at all. I think just as much of him, far's I know, as ever I did. The crime—if crime you would call it, is this: he came to our store to trade out a due-bill, as I said, and after he had gone, we missed a pocket-handkerchief."
"He or some one else may have taken it by mistake," interrupted Mrs.
Fabens, rocking her chair in agitation.
"That is very likely, as I told Fairbanks," said Frisbie. "And it is best for us to think so. We had better judge ten guilty persons innocent, than condemn one innocent man. It was a silk pocket-handkerchief; and as it lay on the counter just before he left, Fairbanks thought Ludlow must have taken it; and following him over to the tailor's shop, where he left his bundle, I opened it, and found a handkerchief, just like ours, wadded up and tucked into one end of the wrapping paper. Little things sometimes indicate more than we wish to believe. But then he looked a little honest, when he came in, and said he knew not how on earth it got there."
"I don't believe he did know," said Fabens. "How easy it would have been for you; or whoever put up the goods, to have put that in by mistake."
"Just so I told Fairbanks," said Frisbie; "and it must have got there in some such way. It was crumpled up so, my first thought was that it was tucked in by stealth. I inquired of our new customer, Captain Troffater—I believe they call him Captain, I very confidentially named the circumstance to him, and he said it might be a mistake of ours; but he did not know about it, and it was best for merchants to keep a sharp lookout, when they did not know who was in their store. But there, as—"
"I will not believe George stole it," interrupted Fabens earnestly. "He is incapable of such an act; and it is much more reasonable to believe it was done up by mistake."
"I have brought home things several times in that way, and nobody suspected I meant to steal," said Mrs. Fabens. "The clerks confessed their hurry, and their liability to make mistakes, when I returned them."
"We do make such mistakes too often, as I told Fairbanks; and it must be he took it in that way," concluded Frisbie. "At any rate, I had rather believe so, and have you all believe so, than believe him guilty. I am sure I would not harm the fellow; and I would not weaken your confidence in him. I am always so grieved myself to know that a person is not as good as I believed him to be, I would not attempt to convince any one of confidence misplaced for the world—unless I had the weightiest reason. Yet, I confess it grieves me still more to see confiding people deceived, they feel so bad after it."
Upon this, Frisbie rose and repeated his invitation to Fabens, to go over and see them, saying, as he left the door, that "he hoped Fairbanks would not be an old bachelor always, but get him a good wife, and have a home, and live like somebody, that ladies and gentlemen might visit him. But what do you think he says, when I jog him on the subject? That there is only one girl in Summerfield he could like well enough to marry, and I point in a certain direction, and tell him I can guess who he means!