"I don't see as it makes any difference whether he's heard anything or not, Sam," he suggested eagerly. "No matter what he's heard, it ain't so, because there couldn't have been anything stolen. There was only four hundred missin'. I've found that and you've got it back; so that settles it, don't it?"
"It certainly would seem as if it did," observed Grover. "Congratulations, Captain Hunniwell. You're fortunate that so honest a man found the money, I should say."
The captain merely grunted. The odd expression was still on his face. Jed turned to the other two.
"Er—er—Major Grover," he said, "if—if you hear any yarns now about money bein' missin'—or—or stolen you can contradict 'em now, can't you?"
"I certainly can—and will."
"And you'll contradict 'em, too, eh, Phin?"
Babbitt jerked his shoulder from Grover's grasp and strode to the door.
"Let me out of here," he snarled. "I'm goin' home."
No one offered to detain him, but as he threw open the door to the outer shop Leonard Grover followed him.
"Just a moment, Babbitt," he said. "I'll go as far as the gate with you, if you don't mind. Good afternoon, Jed. Good afternoon, Captain, and once more—congratulations. . . . Here, Babbitt, wait a moment."