"None that I know of."
"Do you know what kind of man he is?" asked Sam.
"I never talk about my neighbors," answered the old woman, and drew up her thin lips and went on shelling peas.
Feeling it would be useless to ask any more questions, the three boys journeyed wearily on to the next farmhouse. This belonged to a fat German named Gus Schmidt, who knew the Rovers fairly well.
"Yah, I let you haf a carriage alretty," said Gus Schmidt. "Put you must pring him back to-morrow, hey?"
"We will," answered Dick.
"I vos hear some putty goot stories apout you Rofer poys," went on Mr. Schmidt, while he was hooking up his horse. "You vos on der Mississippi Rifer, hey?"
"We were," answered Sam.
"Und you vos go owid on der blains und catch some counterfeiters, hey?"
"Yes, we had something to do with it," came from Tom.