“That seems the weakest thing you have done,” said the old woman. “Though if they meant to rob you, your follerin’ on ’em up would have done no good.”
“I thought of that; and I imagined it would have a good effect if I took Hank’s word, and made him believe I thought there was a little honor in him. He may mean well by me still; but I’m pretty sure he is dodging me on purpose. I found Dock and Hod and Tug this afternoon; and they said Hank and Cub had cleared out for a day or two for fear they would be arrested for helping me break into Peternot’s house. Tug vowed he didn’t know where they were or what they had done with the money.”
“They’re playin’ you false,” said Aunt Patsy. “But don’t mind. Now I’ll tell you my story, and you’ll see you hain’t lost so much, and they hain’t gained so much, as you and they think.”
The old woman took a sip of tea and went on. “I know about that money; at least, I know somethin’ about it. You’ve heard complaints agin my fust husband,—how bad characters used to come to our house, for one thing. I don’t deny but what there was somethin’ in that, though he was a good man to me; whatever else he was, he was good to me!” And the old woman wiped away a tear. “There was one Sam Williams,—I always telled my husband he’d better have nothin’ to do with him, for I was sure he’d come to some bad end; and sure enough he did; he escaped from a constable and was shot; died of his wound in jail. This was a year or two ’fore my fust husband died; and ’twas when the officers was arter him that he come to our house one night with a little trunk of money.”
“Half-dollars?” said Jack, eagerly interrupting her.
“I believe so, though I don’t remember for sartin about that. He wanted my husband to keep it for him; but I said, ‘Don’t ye have nothin’ to do with it, if you want to keep out o’ trouble.’ Well, he stayed with us from jest arter dark one evenin’ till jest afore day next mornin’; and that was the last we ever see of him. That must ’a’ been the trunk, and he hid it in the woods. If it was,” added Aunt Patsy, looking keenly at Jack across the corner of the table, “then either Mr. Chatford or the goldsmith has made a grand mistake.”
Again Jack anxiously demanded what she meant; but just as she was about to explain herself, there came a light rap at the door. He sprang to his feet in an instant.