"I be SURE he done it," said Byers, unequivocally.

The tanner took his pipe from his lips. "What ails ye ter say that,
Andy?" he exclaimed excitedly.

Andy Byers hesitated. He mechanically passed his fingers once or
twice across the blunt, curved blade of the two-handled knife.

"Ye'll keep the secret?"

"In the sole o' my boot," said the tanner.

"Waal, I KNOWS ez Birt stole the grant. I hev been powerful
changeful, though, in my thoughts bout'n it. At fust I war glad
when he war suspicioned 'bout'n it, an' I war minded to go an'
inform on him an' sech, ter pay him back; 'kase I held a grudge
ag'in him, believin' ez he hed dressed out that thar blackberry bush
ez Mrs. Price's harnt. An' then I'd remember ez his mother war a
widder-woman, an' he war nothin' but a boy, an' boys air bound ter
be gamesome an' full o' jokes wunst in a while, an' I'd feel like I
war bound ter furgive him 'bout the harnt. An' then ag'in I got
toler'ble oneasy fur fear the Law mought hold ME 'sponsible fur
knowin' 'bout Birt's crime of stealin' the grant an' yit not tellin'
on him. An' I'd take ter hopin' an' prayin' the boy would confess,
so ez I wouldn't hev ter tell on him. I hev been mightily pestered
in my mind lately with sech dilly-dallyin'."

Again the sudden tapping of the woodpecker filled the pause.

"Did ye SEE him steal the grant, Andy?" asked the tanner, with bated