Zoeth and me, and--and haulin' open that safe--and--"

Again Mary interrupted.

"Be still, Uncle Shad!" she commanded. "Sit down! Sit down on that box
and listen to me! That's right. Now tell me! Why have you been telling
me fibs for almost a year? Answer me! Why have you?"

Zoeth looked at Shadrach and the latter looked at him.

"Fibs?" stammered Mr. Hamilton. "Fibs? Why--why, Mary-'Gusta!"

"Yes, fibs. I might use a stronger word and not exaggerate very much.
You have led me to think that business was good, that you were doing as
well or better than when I was here with you. I asked you over and over
again and you invariably gave me that answer. And now I know that during
all that time you have scarcely been able to make ends meet, that you
have been worrying yourselves sick, that you--"

Captain Shad could stand it no longer.

"We ain't, neither!" he declared. "I never was better in my life. I
ain't had a doctor for more'n a year. And then I only had him for the
heaves--for the horse--a horse doctor, I mean. What are you talkin'
about! Sick nothin'! If that swab of an Isaiah has--"

"Stop, Uncle Shad! I told you to listen. And you needn't try to change
the subject or to pretend I don't know what I am talking about. I do
know. And as for pretending--well, there has been pretending enough.
What do you mean--you and Uncle Zoeth--by sending me off to school and
to Europe and declaring up and down that you didn't need me here at
home?"

"We didn't need you, Mary-'Gusta," vowed Zoeth eagerly. "We got along
fust-rate without you. And we wanted you to go to school and to Europe.
You see, it makes us feel proud to know our girl is gettin' a fine
education and seein' the world. It ain't any more than she deserves, but
it makes us feel awful pleased to know she's gettin' it."

"And as for the store," broke in the Captain, "I cal'late you've been
pawin' over them books and they've kind of--kind of gone to your head.
I don't wonder at it, this time of night! Hamilton and Company's
all right. We may be a little mite behind in some of our bills,
but--er--but. . . . DON'T look at me like that, Mary-'Gusta! What do you
do it for? Stop it, won't you?"

Mary shook her head.

"No, Uncle Shad," she said, "I shan't stop it. I know all about Hamilton
and Company's condition; perhaps I know it better than you do. This is
the fifth night that I have been working over those books and I should
know, at least."

"The FIFTH night