"You can't?" she gasped, and even Aunt Alvirah looked startled.

"That's what I said."

"Why-- why can't you?" cried Ruth. "Has something happened to my
trunk?"

"That's jest it-- and it warn't no fault o' mine," said the miller. "I
got the trunk like I said I would and it was in the wagon when we came
down the hill yonder

"Oh, oh!" gasped Ruth, her hands clasped. "You don't mean when you ran
the mules into the water, Uncle?"

"I had to get to my mill. I didn't know what was being done over
here," he said, uglily. "And didn't I lose enough? What's the loss of
some old rags, and a trunk, 'side of my money?"

He said it with such force, and with so angry a gesture, that she
shrank back from him. But her pain and disappointment were so strong
that she had to speak.

"And the trunk was washed out of the wagon, Uncle Jabez? It's gone?"

"That's what happened to it, I suppose," he grunted, and dropping his
head, opened the ledger and began to study the long lines of figures
there displayed. Not a word to show that he was sorry for her loss. No
appreciation of the girl's pain and sorrow. He selfishly hugged to him
the misfortune of his own loss and gave no heed to Ruth.