"Money?" questioned Auntie Sue.

"Yep, 'money:'--that there reward what they'd a-paid you-all if you-all
hadn't a-lied like you did. I reckon as how there'd a-been as much,
maybe, as what was in that there letter you-all done sent ter the bank
an' ain't never heard tell of since. Hit's most likely clean gone by
now, an' here you done gone an' throw'd this other away,--plumb throw'd
hit away!"

At this, Auntie Sue's spirit suddenly flashed into fiery indignation.

"Judith Taylor," she said sharply, "how can you suggest such a wicked
thing? Why, I would--I would--DIE before I would accept a penny for
doing such a thing!"

And it was Judy, now, who stood silent and abashed before the aroused
Auntie Sue.

"Don't ever speak of such a thing again!" continued the old lady.
"And remember, we must be more careful than ever, now, not to let any
one--not a soul--know that Mr.--Mr.--Burns is in the house, or that we
ever saw him!"

"That there deteckertive man said as how the feller's name was Brian
Kent, didn't be?" muttered the sullen Judy.

"I don't care what the detective man said!" retorted Auntie Sue. "I am
telling you that his name is Brian Burns, and you had better remember
it! You had better remember, too, that if anybody ever finds out the
truth about him, you and I will go right along to jail with him!"