"Ye-es," said the smaller girl, this time doubtfully. "If Mrs. MacCall finishes my Alice-doll's new cloak. Otherwise she can't go, and of course I can't go without her. She hasn't a thing fit to wear, now it's come fall."
"You ask Mrs. Eland," broke in Mr. Buckham, "if she happens to be any relation to Lemuel Aden."
"Now, Bob!" said his wife in an admonitory undertone, "never mind raking up dead and gone happenings."
"But I'm just curious—just curious," said the farmer. "Nothing to be done now about it——"
"Bob!"
"Well," subsided the farmer, "a man can't help thinkin' about money that he's lost. And that five hundred dollars was stole from us as sure as you're alive to-day, Marm."
"Never mind," his wife said lightly. "You've earned several five hundreds since that happened—you know you have, Bob Buckham. What's the good of worrying?"
"Ain't worrying," denied the farmer, quickly. "But I do despise a thief. I was brought up on the motter:
"''Tis a sin
To steal a pin;
'Tis a greater
To steal a' 'tater!'
Ain't that so, children?" he concluded, chuckling.