"John Downie."
"John Downie! Pooh, he is a mere boy," said the squire, contemptuously.
"He's got as many eyes as you or I, squire," said the deacon, shrewdly.
This was unquestionably true, and the squire felt that he had made a foolish objection.
"John Downie may not tell the truth," he said, angrily.
"I'm willin' it should come before the court," said the deacon. "Wouldn't it be jest as well to ask your boy about it; he's out in the yard."
James was still in the yard. He had half a mind to go away, but was anxious about the deacon's errand. When he heard his father's voice calling him he turned pale.
"Wait for me, Tom," he said. "If you're asked, don't say I did it."
Tom looked disturbed and uneasy, and did not reply.
James entered his father's presence with a perturbed spirit. He stole a glance at the deacon, who sat with his wizened face calm and imperturbable.