“Oh—excuse—please!” he murmured. “I t’ink to find the old man but—you have been cleaning his chimney—maybe?”
At first Bob did not understand. Then as he looked at a daub of soot on his hand, and remembered that there must be some on his face, he realized how natural was the visitor’s mistake.
“Hello, Pietro!” greeted the youth. “Mr. Beegle isn’t home. I—I’ve been doing some work for him while he’s gone fishing.”
“Yes—I see him go—with other man.”
“Hum! Maybe that’s the reason you came here—because you saw Hiram go away,” thought Bob. But he did not say this to the Italian. The latter carried something in a bundle, and, noting that Bob’s eyes were directed toward it, the caller, with a white-tooth smile, opened it, revealing some of those same strange nuts, or dried fruits he had been planting in the bramble patch.
“I come see mebby Senor Beegle let me try plant monkey nuts on his land,” explained Pietro.
“Mebby so they no grow where I put ’em,” and he waved his hand in the direction of Cliffside.
“I don’t believe anything would grow, the way you planted it,” chuckled Bob, remembering the deep holes the Italian had dug.
Pietro looked across the deserted garden. He saw where Jolly Bill had been trying for worms.
“Senor Beegle—he dig holes, too!” exclaimed the caller. He seemed strangely excited. “Mebby so he plant monkey nuts!”