“Money?” Mrs. Atkins hopped to her feet in great alarm, and scuttled over to get behind the counter. “My soul an’ body!” she exclaimed, pawing among the loose dimes and nickels and pennies dropped by the young man when he sprang for David.
“Did he?” implored Davie. “Oh, do tell me, Mrs. Atkins—did he take any money?”
“It looks as if he’d ben interrupted.” The storekeeper’s wife drew a long sigh of relief, as she settled the coins back into the till, and slammed to the drawer. “I don’t b’lieve he got a single cent, David Pepper,” she said, coming back to him.
“Oh, I’m so glad,” said Davie.
“An’ now I’ll untie you,” she said, getting down on her knees. “My gracious!” and she shook with fright, “sech a risk as you’ve run!”
“I’m so glad he didn’t get any money,” breathed Davie blissfully.
“An’ you’ve saved it,” Mrs. Atkins, getting the last knot out, threw the end of the ropes off, “just think of that, David Pepper!”
David’s blue eyes shone. “I wish I could have kept him,” he said, as he got up to his feet.
“Land!—don’t say that—you’ve done splendid!” said Mrs. Atkins, and she shivered as she got up.