“And pray who is Harry Block?” asked Nick.
“That is my name,” spoke up the farmer; “but I wouldn’t pay attention to what she says, as you ought to know that wimmenfolks talks too much; they are very undescreet.”
“My, what a long tail our cat has got all of a sudden,” said Sallie scornfully.
“Will you shet your mouth?” growled the farmer; “you talk too gosh-darned much, I tell you.”
“I know a darn sight more about it than you want me to tell.”
“Won’t you please keep quiet?” the man growled. “Are you going to Brooklyn?” he asked, turning to Nick, who had been listening attentively to the conversation.
“Yes, I am going to Brooklyn, but I would like to hear more about this man that your cousin seems to know so much about.”
“Do you suspect him of robbing that man the other night?”
“He might have had a hand in it if he did not do it himself,” said Nick.
“Well, seein’ as Sallie appears to know all about it, I would suggest that she tell you what she knows; she is so all-fired smart,” said the farmer sullenly.