ut Levi
hain't no more idee of the vally of money than he has of flyin', and he
throws it away as reckless as a sailor arter he comes home from a Cape
Horn v'y'ge."

"I know he does; if he had to earn it, he wouldn't be quite so free
with it."

"Levi hates me, 'f I am his uncle, and never did nothing but take good
keer of his money for him--he hates me like destruction; and that's
what makes me think he done it. He's a bad boy, if he is go'n' to jine
the church. Folks will find him out one of these days, and then they'll
know I told the truth about him."

"Could anybody else have taken the money? That's the p'int."

"Not's I know on--least ways nobody but you and Mat Mogmore."

"You don't think I took it--do you?"

"I hain't been able to think so," replied the miser, looking up into
the face of Dock. "I allers thought you set too much by me to sarve me
sech a trick as that. I've lent you a good deal of money one time 'n
another."

"But I paid you ten per cent. for it. I didn't take your money, and I
know Mat Mogmore didn't. I was with him all the time he was in the
house. We worked together."

"It stands to reason, then, that Levi took it; I can't help thinkin'
so."

"They say he carries a good many things to your house," suggested Dock.

"Kerries a good many things to my house!" repeated the miser with a
sneer. "Mebbe he does. What sort of things does he kerry there?
Chickens and turkeys, and surlines and ribs of beef, and sech truck! He
knows I don't want sech things, and he does it jest to aggravate me. If
he wants to do anything for me, why don't he gim me the money he pays
out for 'em? That's what I want to know."

"I don't think you've hit the nail on the head this time, Mr.
Fairfield," added Dock, who evidently had a theory of his own to
propose. "They say you are worth some thirty or forty thousand dollars,
Mr. Fairfield."

"Bless ye! I ain't wuth no sech money. I've got a little or sunthin,
but I expect to lose it all."

"Well, call it twenty thousand, then."

"I ain't wuth that," added Mr. Fairfield, testily; for, like all
misers, he desired to conceal his possessions, as much to blind the
assessors as to avoid the peril of robbery.

"Well, you are worth something."

"A little or sunthin," answered Mr. Fairfield, conceding this for the
sake of argument.

"Have you made a will, Squire Fairfield?"

"No, I hain't made no will. I hain't got nothin' to leave wuth makin' a
will for."

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