The deacon, far from suspecting that the rogues had the day before tried to dispose of some of the coin, and found it after all to be worthless, marvelled at this show of honesty in a quarter where it was so little to be looked for, and exclaimed, “I declare! I can’t understand! What did they take this trouble for?”
“’C-o-o-z!” said Hod, rolling his head again, snuffing, and drawing his smeared sleeve across his nose,—actions which Hick, at his end of the pole, did not fail to imitate; for it was characteristic of these young specimens of the Huswick species, that, reckless as they appeared in their native wilds, they were pretty sure to be overcome by a grotesque bashfulness when brought within the doors of civilized beings.
“’Cause what?” demanded the deacon.
“C-o-o-z!” Hod rolled his eyes from him to Annie and Mrs. Chatford, and used his other sleeve. “Squire’s got out warrants for ’em. Take ’em to jail. They don’t want noth’n’ to do with the money; want you to make him promise he won’t have ’em took up; then he may have the money, for all them. They found it in the woods, where Jack hid it.”
“I believe that’s a lie!” said the deacon. “But no matter. I’ll make as good terms for ’em as I can. Is it all here?”
“Ya-a-s; every dollar on ’t, so they say. Slip her off, Hick!” and the two treasure-bearers lowered their burden to the floor.
The deacon hastily untied the bag, looked into it, and then as hastily tied it up again.
“Good aft’noon!” said Hod. “Aft’noon!” said Hick. And they sidled towards the door, hesitating, grinning, and smearing their sleeves.
“You can get some peaches as you go through the orchard,” the deacon called after them, as they disappeared. “Open the big chest there, mother! We’ll lock up this stuff, till Peternot can be made to hear to reason. Is the horse ready?”
Kate caught her father as he was going out. “I want to send Jack something!” she cried. “I couldn’t think of anything when he was here. But there’s that half-dollar!”