had found no answer as yet to the question which so
grievously perplexed him.
He had paced the main street twice and had turned into a narrow lane
ending in the smallest of gardens and the most infinitesimal of houses,
when the door of this same house opened and a man came out whose
appearance held him speechless for a moment--then sent him forward with
a quickly beating heart. It was not the man himself that produced this
somewhat startling effect; it was his clothes. So far as his hat and
nether garments went, they were, if not tattered, not very far from it;
but the coat he wore was not only trim but made of the finest cloth and
without the smallest sign of wear. It was so conspicuously fine, and
looked so grotesquely out of place on the man wearing it, that he could
pass no one without rousing curiosity, and he probably had all he wanted
to do for the next few days in explaining how a fine gentleman's coat had
fallen to his lot.
But to Sweetwater its interest lay in something more important than the
amusing incongruity it offered to the eye. It looked exactly like the one
belonging to Mr. Roberts which had escaped his scrutiny in so remarkable
a way. Should it prove to be that same, how fortunate he was to have it
brought thus easily within his reach and under circumstances so natural
it was not necessary for him to think twice how best to take advantage of
them.
Father Dobbins--for that is the name by which this old codger was
known to the boys--was, as might be expected, very proud of his new
acquisition and quite blind to the contrast it offered to his fringed-out
trouser-legs. He had a smile on his face which broadened as he caught
Sweetwater's sympathetic glance.
"Fine day," he mumbled. "Are ye wantin' somethin' of me that ye're comin'
this way?"
"Perhaps and perhaps," answered Sweetwater, "--if that fine coat I see
you wearing is the one given you by Mrs. Weston up the road."
"'Deed, sir, and what's amiss? She gave it to me, yes. Came all the way
into the village to find me and give it to me. Too small for her master,
she said; and would I take it to oblige him. Does she want it back?"
"Oh, no--not she. She's not that kind. It's only that she has since
remembered that one of the pockets has a hole in it--an inside one, I
believe. She's afraid it might lose you a dime some day. Will you let me
see if she is right? If so, I was to take you to the tailor's and have it
fixed immediately. I am to pa
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