"And him fiddlin' and drinkin' and otherwise wastin' his substance," croaked Mrs. Scattergood.
At this Janice did utter an objection:
"Now, that is not so, Mrs. Scattergood. You know very well that that story about Hopewell being a drinking man is not true."
"My! is that so? Didn't I see him myself? And you seen him, too, Janice Day, comin' home that night, a wee-wawin' like a boat in a heavy sea. I guess I see what I see. And as for his fiddlin'——"
"You need not be troubled on that score, at least," sighed Janice.
"Poor Hopewell! He's sold his violin."
Walky Dexter came into the store that same evening, chuckling over the sale of the instrument.
"I wouldn't go for ter say Hopewell is a sharper," he grinned; "but mebbe he ain't so powerful innercent as he sometimes 'pears. If so, I'm sartainly glad of it."
"What do you mean, Mr. Dexter?" asked 'Rill, rather sharply.
"Guess Joe Bodley feels like he'd like ter know whether Hopewell done him or not. Joe's condition is suthin' like the snappin' turtle's when he cotched a-holt of Peleg Swift's red nose as he was stoopin' ter git a drink at the spring. He didn't durst ter let go while Peke was runnin' an' yellin' 'Murder!' but he was mighty sorry ter git so fur from home. Haw! haw! haw!"
"What is the matter with Joe Bodley now, Walky?" asked Nelson, who was present. "Didn't he make a good thing out of the violin transaction?"