“You—you don’t mean to say that George had a hand in robbin’ them stores an’ hen-roosts, do you?” he asked, as soon as he had recovered the use of his tongue.
“I don’t mean to say nothing,” was Mr. Brown’s reply. “I’m only jest a-tellin’ of you.”
“Well! well! That bangs me,” said Uncle Ruben, looking reflectively at the ground. “I never thought that of George; but then—”
The speaker paused, but his silence spoke volumes. It was plain that the selectman understood what he meant by it, for he said, with some earnestness:
“That’s jest what I thought, an’ jest what I said. A boy whose father is a thief will bear watchin’. Now see here, Ruben. It’s a mighty disagreeable thing to talk about, but I jest want to tell you. In less’n a week arter the doors of the prison closed behind your brother, George an’ his mother began livin’ on the fat of the land. Why, I have seen him in Chandler’s store, more’n once, spendin’ money for oranges an’ lemons an’ canned peaches—things that never come into my house, ’cause I can’t afford ’em—an I’d like to know where he got that money.”
“He used to sell fish an’ berries, you know,” Uncle Ruben ventured to remark.
“Do you s’pose he made all his money in that way?” inquired Mr. Brown. “Don’t you reckon he made more out of something else—butter an’ chickens, for instance—an’ that this fish an’ berry business was jest a blind? I do; an’ I ain’t the only one who thinks so, neither. An’ I’ll tell you another thing. You can make up your mind to hear of stealin’ an’ plunderin’ about this village before a week has passed away. Sich doin’s wasn’t never heard of till George built that shanty of his’n up there in the hills. There wasn’t none of it goin’ on while he was to home here, ’tendin’ to his mother; but now that he has took to the woods, it’ll begin ag’in. You wait an’ see.”
So saying, Mr. Brown touched his sleepy old horse with the long hickory switch which he always carried instead of a whip, and drove off, leaving Uncle Ruben to his meditations.
The latter did not look like a man whose only nephew had just been accused of being a thief. He did not appear to be either sorry or vexed, and, in fact, he wasn’t.
The expression of his countenance showed that he was surprised, and the sinister smile that lingered about his lips, and the gleeful way in which he rubbed his hands together, seemed to indicate that he was delighted, as well.