"Do you really think so, Mandy?" asked the man hopefully.

"I do. If I was you I'd go over to Oak Run and find out."

'No, no -- if it's true they'll lynch me, I know they will!"

"Then I'll go over. I know Mrs. Smith. If he's dead there will
be crape on the door an' I won't go in," concluded Mrs. Fox.

And getting out a horse and buckboard, she drove over to Oak Run
and to the Smiths' place. She found no crape on the door. Harry
Smith sat on the porch, his arm in a sling. Plucking up courage
she drew rein, dismounted, and walked up to the boy, who was one
of the Rover brothers friends.

"How is your arm, Harry?" she began softly.

"It's pretty fair," answered the boy politely. "Won't you come
in, Mrs. Fox?"

"Well, I guess not. Harry, I'm sorry for this."

"So am I sorry, Mrs. Fox."

"I didn't think you would do it. Why didn't you come up to the
house an' ask for them apples?"

The boy looked puzzled, for the simple reason that he was
puzzled. "I don't understand you. What apples?"