"Like father, like son!" screamed Bevy again. "What did I say? Where did he get the money to get educated? Where—"
"Bevy, be still!" commanded the squire in a sterner tone. "Katy, did you keep your money in the putlock hole?"
"Yes," answered Katy in a low voice. Here, face to face with Alvin, she remembered all the past, her long vigils on the porch when she watched for him, his kiss in the shadow, his later, different kisses, his ingratitude, her shame. Katy's head sank lower and lower on her breast.
"Why did you select such a place for a bank, Katy?"
"I used to keep things there when I was a little girl. Into the deep part nobody could put a hand but me. That is why I thought it was safe."
The squire looked more and more angry. His voice sank deeper and deeper in his throat.
"You didn't count on bent wire, did you? How much money did you have there, Katy?"
Katy answered so faintly that the squire could not hear.
"She said forty-two dollars," answered Uncle Edwin for her. Uncle Edwin had now stationed himself behind Alvin; at Alvin's slightest motion he put forth a hand to seize him. The Gaumers had not been able to defend their kinswoman from her own incomprehensible foolishness, but from such bold assault from without they were amply able to protect her.
"Is this so, Katy?" asked the squire.