"Why, you know, Squire, as well as I do! I bought the place off you."
"Never mind about what I know. Tell us what you know. How far is your place from the Van Deusts'?"
"About a mile and a half."
"Very well. About a mile and a half. Go on."
"When near a path that makes a short cut to the Babylon road, I found these things. They were lying among some huckleberry bushes, and the white bag was the first thing that caught my eye. Afterwards I saw the other."
As he spoke he drew from his pocket and deposited upon the Squire's table, two objects: an old worn-out sheepskin wallet, and an empty canvas bag about nine inches long by three in width, and tied around with a bit of fishing line.
"The bit of string," continued the witness, "was a few feet away from the other things; but I judged it might belong to them, and fetched it along."
"Have you ever seen these things before, Mr. Van Deust?" asked Squire Bodley.
The old man who, buried in his freshly-awakened grief and remorse, had paid no attention to what was going on until he was called by name, looked up dazedly. The Squire pushed before him the objects found by the witness. He looked at them for a few moments, silently and without moving, as if fascinated by them; then slowly reached out his trembling hands, and took them up.
"Yes," he said, with an effort, after having carefully examined them, "I recognize them. They belonged to my brother Jacob—his wallet and coin bag. And I know that the wallet, at least, was in his possession the day before he was found dead."