"Oh, I ain't blamin' you," said Peggy; "but 'twere a good deal to me, I kin tell ye. A whole quarter lost!"
"Why didn't you take up a board, and get it again?"
"Oh, I did," said McNutt. cheerfully. "I did, Joe. But the money was all black an' tarnished like, by thet time, an' didn't look at all like silver. Sam he wouldn't take it at the store, so my ol' woman she 'lowed she'd polish it up a bit. Ye know how sort o' vig'rous she is, Joe. She polished that blamed quarter the same way she jaws an' sweeps; she polished it 'til she rubbed both sides smooth as glass, an' then Sam wouldn't take it, nuther, 'n' said it wasn't money any more. So I drilled two holes in it an' sewed it on my pants fer a 'spender butt'n."
"But why didn't you deliver the letter?"
"Did ye 'spect I'd tramp way t' Thompson's Crossing fer nuthin'?"
"I gave you a quarter."
"An' it turned out to be on'y a 'spender butt'n. Be reason'ble, Joe."
"Where is the letter?"
"'Tain't a letter no more. It's on'y ol' fambly papers by this time.
Three years is——"
"Where is it? By thunder, Peggy, if you don't answer me I'll put you in jail for breach of trust!"