Still, by the ramifications of marriage, he occupied the relation of a brother to Beth; at least she treated him as one, and he lived under the same roof with her. Besides, his family had received Ben in his helpless state and were caring for him.
A sudden generosity pleaded with him not to expose the culprit. It was such a noble impulse, so far above the standards to which he was accustomed that he was almost ashamed to follow it, and tried to belittle it by placing a value upon it. He said to himself half-contemptuously: “There wasn’t more than thirty or forty dollars in the amalgam, anyway, and that’s a low price for a reputation. When he finds out that I haven’t told on him he can return the gold. At any rate, I’m going to give him a chance.” He resolved upon this course, although it annoyed him that Mundon should be suspected, and he felt that he must exonerate the latter.
“You said just now, Mr. Hodges, that you were pretty certain who—who did this to me.”
“Yes, I did; and I am,” emphatically replied Mr. Hodges. “It’s that man Mundon you’ve been taken in by who’s done it.”
“You’re all wrong,” Ben answered. “He had nothing to do with it.”
“Where was he then? Where is he now?”
“He had to find a place for the mule; then he went down-town to sleep. Of course, he couldn’t sleep in the room we built, because the place doesn’t belong to us, they say.”
Mr. Hodges looked the doubt he felt.
“Let him give an account of himself first, Ben, before you’re too sure of his innocence.”