"Hullo!" said he. "You're Abel Edwards's boy, ain't you?"

"I can't stop," said Jerome, pulling away. "I've got to go home.
Mother's waiting for me."

"I don't s'pose you've heard anything yet from your father?"

"No, I 'ain't. I've got to go home."

"Where've you been, Jerome?" asked Adoniram Judd.

"Up to Uncle Ozias's to get Elmira's shoes." Jerome had the stout
little shoes, one in each hand.

"I don't s'pose you've formed any idee of what's become of your
father," said Simon Basset.

Jerome, who had been pulling away from his hold, suddenly stood
still, and turned a stern little white face upon him.

"He's dead," said he.

"Yes, of course he's dead. That is, we're all afraid he is, though we
all hope for the best; but that ain't the question," said Simon
Basset. "The question is, how did he die?"

Jerome looked up in Simon Basset's face. "He died the same way you
will, some time," said he. And with that Simon Basset let go his arm
suddenly, and he was gone.