“By gum!” said Pole, his big eyes expanding. “But you didn't gain much by that, did you?”
“Jest satisfied myself that Alan's money—or some of it—wasn't out o' creation, that's all.”
“I have my reasons fer believin' like you do,” said Pole.
“You say you have.”
Pole glanced furtively over his shoulder at his cabin to see that no one was within hearing, then said:
“You know Winship is old Fred Parson's nephew. Well, old Fred's always been a stanch friend to me. We moonshined it together two yeer, though he never knowed my chief hidin'-place. In fact, nobody knows about that spot, Uncle Ab, even now. Well, I had a talk with him an' axed his opinion about his nephew. He talks as straight as a shingle, an' he ain't no idiot. He says it's all bosh about Winship takin' away all that boodle.”
“He does, does he?” Abner nodded, as if to himself.
“Yes, and he don't claim Winship ain't guilty, nuther; he jest holds that he was too small a dabbler in devilment. He thinks, as I do, that Craig run 'im off with threats of arrest an' picked that chance to bu'st. He thinks Winship's in a safe place an' never will be fetched back.”
Abner drew himself up straight.
“Have you talked to Alan an' Miller on that line?”