"Not's I know on—least ways nobody but you and Mat Mogmore."
"You don't think I took it—do you?"
"I hain't been able to think so," replied the miser, looking up into the face of Dock. "I allers thought you set too much by me to sarve me sech a trick as that. I've lent you a good deal of money one time 'n another."
"But I paid you ten per cent. for it. I didn't take your money, and I know Mat Mogmore didn't. I was with him all the time he was in the house. We worked together."
"It stands to reason, then, that Levi took it; I can't help thinkin' so."
"They say he carries a good many things to your house," suggested Dock.
"Kerries a good many things to my house!" repeated the miser with a sneer. "Mebbe he does. What sort of things does he kerry there? Chickens and turkeys, and surlines and ribs of beef, and sech truck! He knows I don't want sech things, and he does it jest to aggravate me. If he wants to do anything for me, why don't he gim me the money he pays out for 'em? That's what I want to know."
"I don't think you've hit the nail on the head this time, Mr. Fairfield," added Dock, who evidently had a theory of his own to propose. "They say you are worth some thirty or forty thousand dollars, Mr. Fairfield."
"Bless ye! I ain't wuth no sech money. I've got a little or sunthin, but I expect to lose it all."
"Well, call it twenty thousand, then."