"It's Aaron Poole, Nat's father!" said Dave, as he lowered the pistol in his hand.
"I say, are you trying to kill me? " cried the miserly money-lender of Crumville, as he came closer, and he shook his whip at Dave.
"Why, no, Mr. Poole," answered Dave, as calmly as he could. "What makes you think that?"
"Oh, you needn't play innocent," snarled Aaron Poole. "You just fired a shot at me! It went through my buggy top." And the money-lender pointed to the back road, where stood his horse and carriage. "Nice doings, I must say!"
"Mr. Poole, I didn't fire at you," answered Dave. "I didn't know anybody was out there on the road,—and I didn't fire in that direction."
"You fired into the bushes, when you tried the pistol," said Roger, in a low voice.
"Maybe the bullet went through the bushes," suggested the shipowner's son.
"You fired at me—I heard the shot and saw you with the pistol!" stormed Aaron Poole. "I've a good mind to have you arrested!"
"Mr. Poole, why should I fire at you?" asked Dave. "I"
"Oh, you needn't try to smooth it over, you young rascal! I know you! You are down on me because I made Caspar Potts pay me what was due, and you are down on my son Nat because
