"I'm sorry, Uncle," she whispered.

He suddenly stared down at her.

"There! I believe you be, child. But your being sorry can't help it
none. The money's gone-- hard it come and it's hard to part with in
this way."

"Was it a large sum, Uncle?"

"All the ready cash I had in the world. Every cent I owned. That boy
said, put it in a bank. I lost money when the Cheslow Bank failed
forty year ago. I don't get caught twice in the same trap-- no, sir!
I've lost more this time; but no dishonest blackleg will have the
benefit of it, that's sure. The river's got it, and nobody will ever
be a cent the better off for it. All! All gone!"

He jerked his hand away from Ruth's sympathetic pressure and walked
moodily away.

CHAPTER XII

THE CATASTROPHE

This was the beginning of some little confidence between Ruth and
Uncle Jabez. He had not been quite so stern and unbending, even in his
passion, as before. He said nothing more about the lost cash-box--
Aunt Alviry dared not even broach the subject-- but Ruth tried to show
him in quiet ways that she was sorry for his loss.