"I can't stand this no longer!" howled the miserable man, the tears starting in his eyes. "Sunthin must be done."
"What shall it be, squire?" asked the comforter, coolly.
"I can't stand it no longer, and I won't, nuther," repeated the sufferer. "Somebody's got my money, and I must git it back, or it'll kill me. That boy must be took up, and sarched till the money's found. I know he's got it. Nobody else couldn't have took it. He must have kerried it off in that little saw-mill. That's what he come arter the saw-mill for—to kerry off the money in."
"Do you want to have Levi arrested?" asked Dock, musing.
"Yes; he must be took up. As soon as he sees I'm in airnest, he'll git scared, and give up the money."
"Musn't be too hasty, squire. If you be, it'll damage you."
"No 'twon't; nothin' can damage me now. I'll resk it. Git a constable; but don't git Gayles."
Dock counselled moderation, and thought it would be better to wait till they had more proof, before taking any decisive steps. He finally quieted the old man by promising to "hunt up the evidence," and have Levi arrested as soon as there was any proof to work with.
CHAPTER VIII.