“She had just thirty-six. She’d sent them to town by Ridlet, but the jeweler wouldn’t agree to make the forks for less than forty dollars. Ridlet says he brought them back, but it seems they were gone when he got home.”
“And he accused you of taking Mrs. Ridlet’s money,” said mother. “Now, I’ll never speak to her.”
“It’s odd where the money went,” continued father. “You know I borrowed his wagon to go to town, a few minutes after he came home. He said he put the package on the wagon-seat, and got out to unharness the horse. Before he had done so, Elijah Bangs came in at the south door of the barn, all excitement about his sick cow. He wanted Ridlet to see the animal—he had been so unlucky about curing his own sick cattle. While they were talking, I came in to borrow the wagon. Ridlet, who was going off with Bangs, said ‘Yes,’ hurriedly, forgetting all about the silver dollars, so he says; and he says nobody came into the barn but me and Mr. Bangs, and, as Bangs came in at the south door, he wasn’t near the wagon. Ridlet never thought of the silver till he was
half-way to Mr. Bangs’; but he did not worry, knowing it was safe with me.”
“Did he say, out-and-out, you’d taken it?” asked mother.
“No; but he said it was mighty queer a man could miss seeing a package as big as that. There was no use looking for it, or advertising for it; he knew that it was on that wagon-seat. I fired up and said, ‘Do you think I took it?’ He didn’t answer; and that settled it.”
“Well, if ever he does find it, I’ll never have anything to do with them,” said mother. “Suspect you of keeping her fork-money!”
“It’s very odd where it went,” repeated father.
“I am glad you’ve spoken at last. It’s been on my mind more than anything. I thought you might have misunderstood him, and was over touchy; but—her money!”
Father made no reply; and from that time mother stopped looking down the road.