“He was stealing peaches.”
“I was not; I was picking one up.”
“He was stealing them. Just look what he has done.”
“I did not do it, Mr Solomon,” I cried. “It was he.”
“Oh, what a cracker, Brownie! I came and caught him at it; and because I said he was a thief he hit at me with that cane.”
“How did he get the cane? Why, it’s yours,” said Mr Solomon; “and I believe you broke that young peach.”
“Get out! It was he. Take him to the police. I caught him at it.”
Mr Solomon stooped and picked up the bruised and fallen peaches, laid them on a shelf, and then took out his knife and cut away the broken bough neatly.
Then he stood and looked at it for a moment, and the sight of the damage roused up a feeling of anger in him, for he turned sharply.
“Here, you be off!” he said, advancing on the boy with the cane under his arm.