"You shall be provided for, Captain Moss. I have a spare room."
"You are very kind to an old sea-dog like myself, Mrs. Canby," said Uncle Enos.
The widow led the way into the dining room. The lamp was already lighted, and while my sister Kate busied herself with preparing supper, Mrs. Canby and my uncle sat down to listen to my story.
For the first time I told it with all the details that concerned myself,—how I had been waylaid by the Models, how Dick Blair had released me, what Stumpy had done at the tool house, and all, not forgetting about the statement Kate and I wished so much to find.
The Widow Canby and my uncle listened with close attention until I had finished.
"It's a strange story, Roger," said the widow, at its conclusion. "One hard to believe. But I know you tell the truth."
"What a rascal this Woodward must be!" broke in my uncle "He's a far greater villain in his way than this John Stumpy. I am strongly inclined to figure that you're right, and he is the one that ran your father up on a lee shore."
"I don't think father did a single thing that was wrong—that is, knowingly," I returned. "If he did do wrong, I'm sure Mr. Woodward made it appear as if it was all right."
"No doubt, no doubt. If you could only get to the bottom of this Weaver's statement."
"And when is this trial to come off?" put in Mrs. Canby. "Really I don't see what good it will do me if this man has lost the money."