"Do you suppose Josiah Crabtree saw you draw the money from the bank?" remarked Dick thoughtfully.
"I don't know what to think."
"He would be just rascal enough to try to get it, if he knew of it. I guess we had better remain here until morning, and after that you had better have a man around the house."
"Yes, mother says she will hire a man. But men are difficult to get—that is, one who is reliable. We had to discharge Borgy on account of drunkenness."
"Perhaps father will let Alexander Pop come up here for a while," cried Dick, struck with the idea. "I don't believe he needs the man at home, and Aleck is thoroughly reliable, even if he is colored."
"Yes, I know Pop well. I would like to have him first-rate. But it is asking a good deal at your hands, Dick."
"As if I wouldn't do a good deal more than that, Dora," he cried quickly, and caught her hand.
"I know you would—you have already. You are the best friend I have, Dick—you and your brothers."
"And I always will be, Dora, always!" he whispered, and pressed her hand so tightly that she blushed like a peony.
Tom had passed into the kitchen and was looking around to see what damage his struggle with Crabtree had done. Nothing was injured. Under the kitchen table lay a letter and a small vial. He picked up both.