"Why--why, yes, by the jumpin' fire, I am! There! I was ashamed when I
done it."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Well--well, you see, Mary-'Gusta, I just wanted to know. Your Uncle
Zoeth and me have been actin' as your pilots for a consider'ble spell.
Course you're gettin' big enough now to cruise on your own hook--that
is, in reason, you understand--but--but--well, we've got so used to
takin' an observation every noontime, seein' how you're layin' your
course, you know, that it's hard to lose the habit. Not that Zoeth was
in on this," he added honestly. "He didn't do any of the hintin', as you
call it. I imagine he'll preach my head off for doin' it, when he gets
me alone."

"You deserve to have it preached off--or partly off, at any rate. Do you
beg my pardon?"

"Sartin sure. I'd beg it on my bended knees if 'twa'n't for the
rheumatiz."

"And you won't hint any more?"

"Nary a hint."

"That's right. If you want me to tell you anything, please ask. You must
trust me, Uncle Shad. I shall always tell--when there is anything to
tell."