“After we were here last month?” repeated Chub. “Great Scott, we’ve never seen your old farm before in our lives. We got here an hour ago in our boat—”
“Travel in your private yacht, do ye? Left it down at the gate, I suppose?” The farmer chuckled enjoyably.
“She’s tied up in the cove about a half mile below here,” said Chub, angrily. “If you don’t believe it, you can come along and see her for yourself.”
“Dare say, dare say. What you got in your pockets?”
“Nothing that belongs to you!”
“I haven’t seen anything worth stealing,” added Roy wrathfully.
“You haven’t, eh?” snarled the man. “Took it all last time, eh? Looking for more silverware, I guess. Wan’t satisfied with what you had. Should have been, eh? Made a mistake, didn’t ye? Made a mistake coming back to the same place, eh? Thought Jim Ewing was fool enough to be caught twice at the same game, eh? Huh!” he paused and looked at them triumphantly. “More fools you, then. And you look sharp
