“You old scoundrel!” he exclaimed, too enraged for the moment to remember that he was speaking to a man whose age, if not his character, should command his respect.
“Hush, Don,” commanded Adoniram Pepper admonishingly. “It will not better matters to vituperate. Mr. Tarr,” he added, turning to the farmer, “do you realize what a serious charge you have made against your nephew?”
“I reckon I do,” Arad declared with vigor. “I got it all down here on er warrant—Squire Holt made it aout hisself. I’m er-goin’ ter hev that boy arrested for burglarizing me. Now you go erhead, Mr. Officer, an’ arrest him.”
“Wait a moment,” and Adoniram stepped quickly in front of Don before the foxy looking man could lay his hand upon the boy’s shoulder.
“Let me see that warrant?” he said.
The officer passed the paper over with a flourish, and Adoniram examined it closely.
“Why,” he exclaimed, shortly, “this is returnable to the Rhode Island courts.”
“Of course it is,” snarled old Arad.
“But do you propose taking the boy back to Rhode Island?”
“Yes, I do.”