"Ah! And 'that's all,' eh? And what did your friends, 'the boys,' do?"
"I dunno."
Uncle Thatcher gripped his son by the shoulder and stood silently regarding him for a few moments, as if debating with himself whether to carry out his threat or not. Then his hand dropped, and he said:
"Something tells me not to ask you. You'll either lie to me, or you'll tell me some truth that, coming from your lips, would sicken my heart with shame that you are my son."
"I didn't do nothin', I tell you."
"No more uncalled-for falsehoods, Silas. You have come here for money, haven't you?"
"If you have a few dollars to spare, I'd like to have some. I'm broke."
"I don't know why I should waste any more money on you."
"I've always acted like a friend to you, dad. I could have made a good stake turnin' up your smugglin' business here, but I never did," replied Silas in a suggestive tone.
His father looked at him with a countenance full of disgust, and answered grimly: "Oh, it's hush-money you're after, is it?"