"Well, that black silk made everything else look dreadful mean. 'Twas then you spoke to Laban about choosin' a brand. Satan put it into my head to say--S. It scart Laban. He was butcherin' then, and he surmised what I was after; I persuaded him 'twas for the children's sake. The first steer paid for Emanuel's baby clothes and cradle. They was finer than what Sarah bought for her child. Then we killed the others--one by one. Laban let 'em through the fence and then clapped our brand a-top o' yours. They paid for the tank and windmill. After that we robbed you when and where we could. We put up that bacon scheme meanin' to ship the stuff to the city and to tell you that it had spoiled on us. We robbed none else, only you. And we actually justified ourselves. We surmised 'twas fittin' that Britishers should pay for the support o' good Americans."
"I've read some of your histories," said Ajax drily, "and can understand that point of view."
"Satan fools them as fool themselves, Mr. Ajax. But the truth struck me and Laban when we watched by mother. She was not scared o' death. And she praised me to Laban, and said that I'd chosen the better part in marryin' a poor man for love, and that money hadn't made Christian women of Sarah and Samanthy. She blamed herself, dear soul, for settin' store overly much on dollars and cents. And she said she could die easier thinking that what was good in her had passed to me, and not what was evil. And, Mr. Ajax, that talk just drove me and Laban crazy. Well, mother ain't going to die, and we ain't neither--till we've paid back the last cent, we stole from you. Laban has figgered it out, principal and interest, and he's drawn a note for fifteen hundred dollars, which we've both signed. Here it is."
She tendered us a paper. Ajax stuck his hands into his pockets, and I did the same.
She misinterpreted the action. "You ain't going to prosecute?" she faltered.
Ajax nodded to me. Upon formal occasions he expects me, being the elder, to speak. If I say more or less than he approves I am severely taken to task.
"Mrs. Swiggart," I began, lamely enough, "I am sure that your husband can cure hams----"
Ajax looked at me indignantly. With the best of motives I had given a sore heart a grievous twist.
"We bought that ham," she said sadly, "a-purpose."
"No matter. We have decided to go into this packing business with your husband. When--er--experience goes into partnership with ignorance, ignorance expects to pay a premium. We have paid our premium."