“Yes, indeed,” and once in the old kitchen, the farmer’s tongue took up the tale and ran it off glibly. And just at the very end in hurried the storekeeper’s wife.
“Now, Davie,” said Mother Pepper, when at last it was all out, “you did just right.” How her black eyes shone! And she kissed his hot cheek.
“But the poor man—he’s in jail,” moaned David.
“That had to be,” said Mrs. Pepper firmly. “Don’t you see, child, if he were allowed to go free, Badgertown people wouldn’t be safe from robbers.”
“Mamsie, I don’t believe he’s going to steal any more,” said David, wiping up, the comfort settling down into his heart, since Mamsie had said it had to be.
“We will hope not,” said Mother Pepper, with another kiss.
“Hoh!” Joel rushed in, his black eyes ablaze and his cheeks as red as could be. He had heard the story at Deacon Blodgett’s, for all Badgertown was afire with it. “If I’d been there, I’d ’a’ smashed that old burglar.” He doubled up his small fists and swung them in the air.
“Joel—Joel—” said Mrs. Pepper reprovingly.
“Ha! Ha!” laughed Farmer Jones, slapping his thigh.
Joel rushed up to him. “Well, I would,” he cried. “You needn’t laugh, you, Mr. Man.”