“I suppose Mr. Hodges and his wife started that. What more did they say?” He stooped and picked up a smooth bit of driftwood which he flung far out into the water. “I don’t care that for their opinion!”
“They say that you’ll never get your money back; that Mr. Fish is the meanest man in town; that he won’t give you any show at all, and won’t let you take another cent out of the Works.”
“Then, they’ve heard about it already?” he asked. She nodded. “Quick work! And that it serves me right. I dare say that’s another thing they say?”
The girl’s face flushed. “Yes, they did. Mrs. Hodges was the worst. She said that Mundon was a sharper and that you were a greeny.”
“Well, it isn’t over yet.”
They walked on for a few moments in silence. Although Ben spoke up stoutly, he was very despondent.
“Tell you what I wish you’d do, Beth?” he suddenly said. “I’m going to watch to-night at the Works; and if you should hear me blow a whistle, do you blow Hodges’ as loud as you can. Three times, you know. Does he still keep one at the house?”
“Yes. Ever since he had that trouble about the land it has hung behind the kitchen door. I can easily take it up to my room.”