“Burn his house down, I would!” whispered Phin, who, notwithstanding his profession of sympathy, felt, I regret to say, a secret gratification at Jack’s loss.
“Where was ’t ye found the money, Jack?” Mr. Pipkin inquired.
Jack led the way, and all went to look at the hollow log. While they were standing about it Hod’s brothers returned. Hod ran for his trousers, but Cub, who was about to fling them at him, changed his mind and tossed them into a tree, where they lodged.
“That’s for spilin’ the melons,” said he, regarding the heap on the ground.
Hod caught up a club to throw at his amiable brother, but wisely changed his mind, and sent the missile up into the tree, in the hope of bringing down his breeches. As they did not come at the first fire, he sent club after club up after them, sputtering all the while with indignation; while his brothers walked loungingly on to the hollow log.
Jack glared at them with deep and sullen hate, without deigning to speak; but the good deacon said, “Seems to me, fellows, you’ve played off a despicable trick on this poor boy here! You ought to have protected him in his rights; but instead of that you’ve helped rob him.”
“Not much of a robbery, I guess, deacon,” replied Dock, good-naturedly. “’Twas nothin’ but a lot o’ bogus coin, no use to him nor to anybody.”
“You’re mistaken,” replied the ingenuous Chatford, letting out a secret which Jack had thought it wise to keep. “The coin was genuine; at least I’ve good reason to think so.” And he told why.
The Huswick boys looked at each other. “If that’s the case, we didn’t git so much the start of the squire as we thought we did!” muttered Dock. “On the contrary, he’s got the start of us! What do ye say, Hank?”
“It’s too late now to say anything about it; but hanged if I wouldn’t ’a’ swore the silver was no silver! I thought ’twas nothin’ but the old man’s avariciousness made him think it might be good. We let him off too easy!” And Hank appeared more than half minded to go back and make better terms with the squire.