"I hope you will, for you've done well by me, though you didn't find my money;" and the old man sighed heavily. "I reckon I shall never see nothin' more on't."
"I'm afraid you never will, Squire Fairfield. That nigger lied so like all possessed that Levi got clear, and then we couldn't do anything. I'm afraid it's too late to do anything more. I calculate that nigger and Levi understand one another pretty well. They fixed things between them, and I'm just as sure as I can be that your money went off in that vessel."
"In the yack?"
"Yes, in the yacht," replied Dock, warmly. "It was stowed away somewhere in her; but I suppose they have got rid of it by this time."
"You think I shan't never see it again," groaned the old man, with a piteous expression on his thin face.
"I'm sorry to say I don't think you ever will, Squire Fairfield."
"Then I'm a ruined man! I can't afford to lose four thousand dollars. It was e'enamost all I had, and I don't see but I must go to the poorhouse."
Dock Vincent took off his hat, rubbed his head, gazed upon the ground, and seemed to be in deep thought for several minutes. So was the miser in deep thought—brooding over his lost treasure.
"Squire Fairfield, when I begin to do a thing I always do it, sooner or later," said Dock, glancing doubtfully at the old man.
"You didn't find my money," added Mr. Fairfield.