When she came into the kitchen and said it was not in her bureau drawer, and when Rachel, who always did the hunting, had looked everywhere and could not find it, then there was crying in that house, you may be sure. Patty said at once the beggar girl had taken the pocket.
"But how could she?" said Dorcas. "She was out of sight and hearing before mother began to quilt it."
"Well, then she came back in the night," sobbed Patty.
"I dare say Snippet has put it out of place," said big brother James.
"Yes, Patty is a great hand to lose things," said Rachel.
"No, no, no; that niggeramus girl came and took it; came in the night," persisted Patty.
"Patience!" said her mother, reprovingly; and then Patty had to stop.
She mourned only for the silver dollar. She would have mourned for the gold piece too, if she had known that her mother intended to buy fall clothes with it for the little girls. It was as well Patty did not know this, for she had as much already as she could bear.
Priscilla Noonin came over that afternoon with her knitting. "It was midsummer, and the hay was down," and there were two men helping get it into the barn. One of the men was tall and well formed, but the other, Israel Crossman, was so short as to be almost a dwarf. He had yellow and white hair, was a little lame, and his hands were covered with warts. After supper he sat a few minutes on the top of the fence whittling a stick. As Siller Noonin stood knitting at the window she saw him, and shook her head.
"Somehow or 'nother," said she, "I don't like the looks of that man, and never did. It's my private opinion, Mrs. Lyman, that either he stole your pocket or I did."