Willy crept slowly down the long piazza, through the big kitchen into the dining-room.
"Now, Sonny, come right here," said his grandfather, "an' we'll have it all fixed up nice."
The boy kept looking from one face to another in a wondering frightened way. He went hesitatingly up to his grandfather, and stood still, his poor little smarting feet toeing in, after a fashion they had, when tired, the pail full of berries dangling heavily on his slight arm.
"Now, Sonny, look up here, an' tell us all about it. What did you do with Grandpa's coat, boy?"
"I—didn't do anything with it."
"William," began his grandmother, but Grandpa interrupted her. "Just wait a minute, mother," said he. "Sonny an' I air goin' to settle this. Now, Sonny, don't you get scared. You jest think a minute. Think real hard, don't hurry—now, can't you tell what you did with Grandpa's coat?"
"I—didn't—do anything with it," said Willy.
"My sakes!" said his grandmother. "What has come to the child?" She was very pale. Aunt Annie and uncle Frank looked as if they did not know what to think. Grandpa himself settled back in his chair, and stared helplessly at Willy.
Finally aunt Annie tried her hand. "See here, Willy dear," said she, "you are tired and hungry and want your supper; just tell us what you did with the coat after Grandma Perry gave it to you"—
"She didn't," said Willy.