“Where is Pud?” demanded the village Nestor. “I——”
“Yes, where is Pud Snooks? I want to talk to him!” exclaimed a shrill voice, interrupting.
Turning at the sound, the men and women beheld the bent and bowed form of old Jed Brown.
Instantly, there was a babel of talk and exclamations at this unexpected turn in affairs.
“What do you want to see him for?” demanded one of the men.
“I want to see him to ask him what he was doing in my shed just before I caught him coming out.”
At the words, several of the men and women crowded about the crippled veteran, plying him with questions; but with a wave of his hand, Mr. Martin silenced them.
“This is a very serious statement, Jed,” he exclaimed in a stern voice. “I warn you that you must be careful what you say. Now tell me just what happened, and how you discovered the fire.”
As they heard the words, those of the men and women who were still at the scene, formed a circle about the village patriarch and the crippled veteran, necks craned forward, ears cocked, that they might not lose a syllable of anything that was said.
“I was just getting ready to go to bed when I heard a noise out in the shed,” declared Jed. “For some time I’ve been missing tools, and so I picked up a club I had by the kitchen stove, and started out to see what the trouble was.