“I think you ought to beg Dan’s pardon for what you have said,” went on Mr. Harrison, turning to the storekeeper again. “It is very unjust to him, and you may yet have to answer for it.”
The old soldier looked sturdy standing there, with Dan by his side, and the fact that he had plenty of money to go to law with if he chose, rather made Mr. Lee worry.
“Wa’al,” he said, “mebby I was a bit hasty sayin’ Dan might know suthin’ about it. I s’pose he don’t.”
“Indeed I don’t,” replied Dan earnestly.
“Wa’al, I’ll not mention it any more,” and that was about as much as could be expected from a man like Hank Lee. Even this partial apology came hard for him, and Mr. Harrison was satisfied.
“While we’re here we might as well take a look at where the burglars got in,” said the former blacksmith to Dan, as the storekeeper resumed his telling of the tale for the twentieth time.
They went to the rear of the store, which was pretty well deserted by this time, nearly all of the crowd having gazed as long as they wanted to at the broken window.
Mr. Harrison and Dan went to the casement, the sash of which had been shattered.
“They must have used some powerful instrument,” spoke the old soldier.
“Yes, there are the marks of it on the window sill,” added Dan, pointing to some deep indentations.