“That was strangely like a veiled threat,” said he. “And coming directly on top of what looks like an appearance, at least, of knowledge of the Tory plot, it sounds suspicious. Go over that again, if you please.”
“He said,” obeyed Nat: “‘There are certain dispositions that take pleasure in rewarding a good deed—and others that take equal pleasure in repaying an evil one.’”
“If that speech were made to me,” said Mr. Cooper, emphatically, “and under like circumstances, I would consider that the person making it were warning me that he’d be revenged.”
“I thought the same,” replied Nat, “but I could scarcely bring myself to it.”
“I understand. The boy is as honest looking and as truthful appearing as any I ever saw. But it is facts that count, and not appearances.”
Then Nat proceeded with Samuel Adams’ estimate of Ezra, and that of the Suffolk Convention’s rider, Revere. As he expected, Mr. Cooper looked puzzled. But upon hearing the story that the Porcupine had related to Nat, his face grew dark with anger.
“The young scoundrel!” he cried. “I’ll see Mr. Adams to-morrow and——”
But Nat placed his hand upon his shoulder and stopped him.
“First, let us be very—very sure,” said the boy. “Let us make no mistake that we shall be sorry for in the future. The whole matter looks bad—I confess that I don’t see a shadow of doubt that would make me think him other than what you consider him. But for all that, we had better be sure.”
Mr. Cooper looked at his nephew a moment.