“Whew! We’re gittin’ rich, aint we, mam?”
“O, no! There’s not a cent coming into the family except what your father and David earn by their daily labor. David is heavily in debt.”
“How came us by all these yere nice things then?”
“Well, David had just fifty dollars in money. Ten dollars of it he earned by breaking Don Gordon’s pointer, and the rest he received from Silas Jones for two young bears that were caught in that trap on Bruin’s Island. Some of the money was used to pay our grocery bill, and the rest was spent on the house. David owes the general a hundred dollars for that colt he rides, and he is worth every cent of two hundred.”
“Wal now, mam,” said Dan, with some hesitation, “that ain’t all the money we’uns have got. Whar’s them greenbacks Dave got fur ketchin’ them quails?”
“Why, didn’t you cut your father’s pocket open and take the box?” asked Mrs. Evans, while an expression that Dan could not understand settled on her face.
“I did, an’ sarved him right, too, fur tryin’ to cheat me outen my share that he promised, honor bright, to give me!” exclaimed Dan. “Didn’t he give it back to Dave?”
“He certainly did not.”
“Wal, I don’t know whar it is, more’n the man in the moon.”
Mrs. Evans’ face grew a shade paler, and, after looking steadily at Dan for a few seconds, she leaned back in her chair and covered her eyes with her hand. Here was another disappointment in store for the young mail carrier. He and his parents had been indulging in the hope that, when Dan returned to his home, the money for which Dave had worked so hard would be restored to him. Dan thought, by the way his mother looked at him, that she did not believe his story, so he hastened to assure her that he told nothing but the truth, following it up with a minute account of the manner in which the thief—whoever he was—had operated to secure possession of the box. His mother was satisfied that he stated the facts as they occurred, and there the matter was dropped.