sure they aren’t beholden to do—and it’s there now.”
“A check!” scoffed the farmer. “I reckon I wouldn’t count too much on any piece of paper they give you.” But it was to be seen, nevertheless, that Mr. Ewing was somewhat shaken in mind, for it would have been very difficult for any one to have disbelieved Harry’s story.
“Oh, if that’s all that’s troubling you,” said Roy, “we’ll give you the cash instead.”
“And how about the other things you stole?”
“We didn’t steal them. And I guess you’ll have to look for them yourself,” said Roy, wearily.
“And how about my silverware?”
“Oh, bother your silverware!” exploded Dick. “I don’t believe you ever owned any! Anyhow, I’m sick of hearing about it. Come on, Roy, let’s mosey along.”
But the farmer strode to the door, closed it, turned the key in the lock, and dropped the key into his pocket.
“You’ll stay where you are a bit longer,” he snarled. “I ain’t decided yet what to do with
