“I got it to pay for my bike—it’s broken.”
“Oh, I know it’s broken. Good thing your neck ain’t broke with it. Nancy saw you roll under the car wheels—”
“Is that what gave her a fit? Thought she saw me go under the wheels?”
“No, Tom. No, Tom—son—” a kindness crept into old Sam’s voice, “even her best friend would not be good-natured enough to say she thought she saw you. The fact is—well, you know Nancy.”
It was growing dark. Tom would have hurried off and left Sam to his drawl but he knew better. That would simply have been to invite Sam to go up to Tom’s mother with the same drawl and more mischievous insinuations. So, he said:
“I can’t just tell you exactly where I got this money, Sam, but did you ever find me short a cent?”
“Not a red.”
“Then why do you suspect me?”
“I don’t.”
“All right. That settles it. I’ve got to get home.”