"An' be you goin' to let him lose that fifteen dollars?" asked the practical Polly, fixing her brother with her eyes.
"Wa'al," said David, with a short laugh, "what c'n I do with such an obst'nit critter 's he is? He jest backed into the britchin', an' I couldn't do nothin' with him." Aunt Polly sat over her sewing for a minute or two without taking a stitch.
"I'm sorry you done it," she said at last.
"I dunno but I did make ruther a mess of it," admitted Mr. Harum.
CHAPTER XVII.
It was the 23d of December, and shortly after the closing hour. Peleg had departed and our friend had just locked the vault when David came into the office and around behind the counter.
"Be you in any hurry?" he asked.
John said he was not, whereupon Mr. Harum hitched himself up onto a high office stool, with his heels on the spindle, and leaned sideways upon the desk, while John stood facing him with his left arm upon the desk.
"John," said David, "do ye know the Widdo' Cullom?"