"No. Duvel! I should think not. It was before my time."
"Yet I wonder you are not afraid to sleep in this room. It was here that the body was found."
Job laughed, and stared at the stains on the floor near the window. "Yes; it was here," he said. "But I know nothing."
"You know what I found last time I came to this place?" she said, recalling the glance exchanged between her aunt and the gypsy.
"Perhaps," replied Job; then he began to laugh. "Oh, you are a rare one, lady, you are!" he said. "You would rob me of my new tent by asking me to speak about what does not concern you."
"Ah! Then you have something to conceal?"
"Perhaps," said Job again. "But you may as well stop, sister. I hold my peace until I die."
Ruth looked at him fixedly. By this time she felt quite sure that the secret which procured for Job food, and fire, and roof-tree, was connected with the murder.
"What you know has nothing to do with Mr. Cass--with my father?" she asked in a low voice.
"No, no; on my soul it has not," he said, earnestly. "Why do you think so, sister?"