"That's where a part of the missing money went," was the consensus of public opinion. How this news leaked out from the post-office was a mystery. But when taxed with the accusation Nelson's pride made him acknowledge the fact without hesitation.
"Yes; I sent away two hundred dollars. It went to my aunt in
Sheffield. I owed it to her. She helped me through college."
"Where did I get the money? I saved it from my salary."
Categorically, these were his answers.
"If that young feller only could be tongue-tied for a few weeks, he might git out o' this mess in some way," Walky Dexter said. "He talks more useless than th' city feller that was a-sparkin' one of our country gals. He talked mighty high-falutin'—lots dif'rent from what the boys she'd been bringed up with talked.
"Sez he: 'See haow b-e-a-u-tiful th' stars shine ter-night. An' if th' moon would shed—would shed——' 'Never mind the woodshed,' sez the gal. 'Go on with yer purty talk.' Haw! haw! haw!
"Now, this here Nelson Haley ain't got no more control of his tongue than that feller had. Jefers-pelters! what ye goin' ter do with a feller that tells ev'rything he knows jest because he's axed?"
"He's perfectly honest," Janice cried. "That shows it."
"If he's puffec' at all," grunted Walky, "he's a puffec' fule! That's what he is!"
And Nelson Haley's frankness really did spell disaster. Taking courage from the discovery of the young schoolmaster's use of money, the committee swore a warrant out for him before Judge Little. It was done very quietly; but Nelson's friends, who were on the watch for just such a move, were informed almost as soon as the dreadful deed was done.