"How much were you to be paid for the book?"
"Three dollars, miss."
"Here is the money, then. Tell me—your name is McNutt, isn't it?—how long have you lived in this place?"
"All my life, miss. Thank 'e, miss. Good day to ye, miss."
He placed the book in the hammock beside her.
"Don't go, please." said the girl. "I'd like you to tell me something about Captain Wegg, and of his poor wife who died, and—"
"Nuther time, miss, I'll be glad to. Ye'll find me in my orfice, any time. Jest now I'm in the dumdest hurry ye ever knew. Good day to ye, miss," he repeated, and stumped quickly to the buggy awaiting him. Next moment he had seized the reins and was urging the sorrel mare along the stony lane at her best pace.
Louise was both astonished and disappointed, but after a little thought she looked after the departing agent with a shrewd smile.
"He's afraid to talk," she murmured, "and that only confirms my suspicions that he knows more than he cares to tell."
Meantime McNutt was doing his best to get away from the premises before the discovery was made that he had sold two "Lives of the Saints" to one family. That there might be future consequences to follow his deception never occurred to him; only the immediate necessity for escape occupied his mind.