"My, my!" he exclaimed. "That's pretty bad, that is. I'd hate to have
your cat killed, Mary-'Gusta, land knows I would. But if the critter's a
chicken thief--"

"But he ain't! I KNOW he ain't!"

"Humph! You can't always tell, you know cats are cats and--"

"But I know David wasn't the cat that did it. I KNOW he wasn't"

"Oh, you know, do you. Hm! you do seem pretty sartin, that's a fact. How
do you know?"

The girl looked at him. "Please, Cap'n Gould," she said, "I--I'd rather
tell you over to Mr. Bacheldor's. That's what I wanted to ask you; won't
you please go right over to Mr. Bacheldor's with me? I--I'll tell you
how I know when we're there."

Captain Shadrach was more puzzled than ever. "You want me to go to Ab
Bacheldor's with you?" he repeated. "You want to tell me somethin' over
there? Why not tell me here?"

"'Cause--'cause Mr. Bacheldor thinks David did it and he'll kill him.
He said he would. I want HIM to know David wasn't the one. And if, if
you're there when he knows, he'll know YOU know he knows and he won't
dast shoot at David any more. Please come, Cap'n Gould. Please, right
away."

Shadrach tugged at his beard. "Humph!" he muttered. "There's more
'knows' in that than there is knots in a snarled fish line. You want me