the boy, their manner
had changed once more.

"Waal, I declar, bubby," said Brierwood agreeably, "this hyar fix ez ye
hev got inter air sateful fur true! It air enough ter sot enny boy on
the mounting cat-a-wampus. 'Twar a good thing ez we-uns happened ter kem
by hyar on our way from the tan-yard way down yander in the valley whar
we-uns hev been ter git paid up fur workin' thar some. We'll let ye out.
Who done yer this hyar trick?"

"Dunno--witches, I reckon!" cried poor Jim, bursting into tears.

"Witches!" the man exclaimed, "the woods air a-roamin' with 'em this
time o' the year; bein', ye see, ez they kem ter feed on the mast."

He chuckled as he said this, perhaps at the boy's evident terror,--for
Jim was sorrowfully superstitious,--perhaps because he had managed to
cut unnoticed a large fragment from the end of the comforter. This he
stuffed into his own pocket as he talked on about two witches, whom he
said he had met that afternoon under an oak-tree feeding on acorns.

"An' now, I kem ter remind myself that them witches war inquirin' round
'bout'n a boy--war his name Jeemes Coggin? Le''s see! That boy's name
_war_ Jeemes Coggin!"

While Jim stood breathlessly, intently listening, Brierwood had twisted
something into the folds of his comforter so dexterously that unless
this were untied it would not fall; it was a silk handkerchief of a
style never before seen in the mountains, and he had made a knot hard
and fast in one corner.

"Thar, now!" he exclaimed, holding up the fragment of knitted yarn, "I
hev tore yer comforter. Never mind, bubby, 'twar tore afore. But it'll
do ter wrop up this money-purse what b'longs ter yer dad. He lef' it
hid in the chinking o' the wall over yander close ter whar I war sittin'
when I fust kem in. I'll put it back thar, 'kase yer dad don't want
nobody ter know whar it air hid."

He strode across the room and concealed the empty pocket-book in the
chinking.

"Ef ye won't tell who teched it, I'll gin a good word fur ye ter them
witches what war inquirin' round fur ye ter-day."

Jim promised in hot haste, and then, the rain having ceased, he started
for home, but Brierwood stopped him at the door.

"Hold on thar, bub. I kem mighty nigh furgittin' ter let ye know ez I
seen yer brother Alf awhile back, an' he axed me ter git ye ter go by
Tom Brent's house, an' tell Tom ter meet him up the road a piece by that
thar big sulphur spring. Will ye gin Tom that message? Tell him