"Thank you, Neighbor Brookbine. I am sorry to trouble you: but this young man with me has not been to supper yet; and it makes my stomach turn somersets to travel with any one who has not been to supper when it is after nine o'clock in the evening."
"Come in! come in, Neighbor Hawlinshed! though I suppose you are to be no longer my neighbor. The boy shall have the best supper we can get up for him at this time of night."
Mr. Hawlinshed—for this appeared to be the name to which he answered—and Dory followed him into the house. When he had gone to make preparations for the supper, Dory's companion led him to one side of the room.
"Will you do me a favor, Dory?" said Mr. Hawlinshed.
"I will try with all my might to do it," replied Dory.
"Don't say one word about what happened in the woods while you are in this house," said Mr. Hawlinshed earnestly, and with much emotion.
"Oh, that's an easy one!" replied Dory gayly. "I could do that, and only half try."
"Be very sure you don't speak a word about the matter, or even hint at it in the most distant manner," continued Mr. Hawlinshed with painful emphasis.
"Not a word or a hint, sir. No one shall squeeze it out of me with a cider-press," protested Dory.
Mr. Brookbine came into the room, and Mr. Hawlinshed tried to compose himself. The talk of the two men was upon subjects in which the boy felt no interest. He was more concerned about his supper than about the affairs of the two speakers. But he learned that Mr. Hawlinshed had been a farmer, and had just sold his farm for forty-five hundred dollars in cash. He was going to another part of the State to engage in the lumber business.