“I thought I ought to speak of the matter,” said Walter apologetically. “I hate anything that looks like telling, but I knew you owned the goods up there in Baggs’ place, and you might be involved in trouble.”
“Walter, don’t you ’polergize one bit. I shan’t take it, if Boardman does. That mean critter don’t deserve nary a ’polergy.”
“Jingle, jingle!” went the warning bell in the store.
“I will go, uncle.”
“Oh, no! Somebody may want me.” When Uncle Boardman returned, he remarked, “I thought as much. It was—”
“Baggs?” said Aunt Lydia eagerly guessing.
“Yes, and I thought there must be some extenuating circumstances. He brought it in while we were talking together, saying he had had occasion to give a little liquor to some of the fishermen when sick and faint, and he allowed that he might have been mistaken, in other cases.”
“Why should he receive presents of money afterwards, and why not take it at the time, if everything was all right, uncle?”
“Now, Boardman, you mean to be charitable,” ejaculated Aunt Lydia, “and it says charity shall hide a multitude of sins, but sich a big sinner, you can’t kiver him up. His sins will stick out.”