"
"There isn't any dog in the house, and Deacon Weight is at Conference,
and won't be back till the last of the week. That will do, Direxia; you
mean well, but you are a ninny-hammer. This way! This is my grandson's
room--he died here--what's the matter--feel faint--hey?"
"Yes!--I do--"
"Come, Willie--come lie down and rest on Arthur's bed--you are tired,
boy."
"Mrs. Tree, if you would not be so kind it would not be so hard--I
came--to--rob--you."
"Why, so I supposed, or thought it likely. You can have all you want,
without that--there's plenty for you and me. Folks call me close, and I
like to do what I like with my own money. There's plenty, I tell you,
for you and me and the bird. Do you think he knew you, Willie? I believe
he did."
"God knows! When--how did you know me, Mrs. Tree?"
"Get up, Willie Jaquith, and I'll tell you. Sit down; there's the chair
you made together, when you were fifteen. Remember, hey? I knew your
voice at the door, or I thought I did. Then when you wouldn't look at
the bead puppy, I hadn't much doubt; and when I said 'Cat's foot!' and
you laughed, I knew for sure.
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