True, Caleb professed to fear God, but perhaps he did not fear Him; perhaps he had been living a lie all this time—who knows?
After he had staid inside the bar a little while, he came out, and looking carefully at Willy, to make sure he was still asleep, stole out doors and joined the teamsters. They had only reached the top of the hill, and hardly any one had noticed that Caleb had not been with them all the while. The fire was only Mr. Chase's chimney burning out; but it was so late by this time that the men did not go back to Mr. Parlin's bar-room.
Next morning Caleb went over to Cross Lots to see about selling a load of potatoes, and soon after he left there was a great excitement in the house. Mr. Parlin had found, on going to his money-drawer, that he had lost ninety dollars.
"Strange!" said he; "I remember it was there all safe at six o'clock; for I saw it with my own eyes. It was spread in an old singing-book; and the singing-book is gone too."
"Could anybody have taken it?" said Love. "Who was here last night?"
"O, I never leave a man alone in the bar-room," replied her father; "at any rate I didn't last night."
"Caleb would attend to that," said Mrs. Parlin; "he is more particular than you are, I think."
Willy looked up, with his black eyes full of questions.
"Was it that money you had for the oxen, papa? Caleb telled me all about it last night. He said you ought to not keep it; you ought to give it to him; he wanted it."
Mr. Parlin shook his head at Willy. "You mustn't make up such stories as that, my son."