sat down on the edge of the wheelbarrow, evidently to keep the right of
possession. Then she began to speak in a high, strained voice, that
echoed sharply through the country stillness.

"If you've got to know, I'll tell you, an' you can be a witness, if you
want to. It won't do no hurt in a court o' law, because I shall tell
myself. I've gone an' got our clock an' our coverlids from where they
were stored in the Blaisdells' barn. The man's got his money, an' I've
took our things. That's all I've done, an' anybody can know it that's a
mind to."

Then she rose, lifted the handles, and went on, panting. Caleb walked
by her side.

"But you ain't afraid o' me, 'Mandy?" he said, imploringly. "Jest you
let me wheel it, an' I won't say a word if I never set eyes on you
ag'in. Jest you let me wheel, 'Mandy."

"There ain't anybody goin' to touch a finger to it but me," said
Amanda, shortly. "If anybody's got to be sent to jail for it, it'll be
me. I can't talk no more. I 'ain't got any breath to spare."

But the silence of years had been broken, and Caleb kept on.

"Why, I was goin' over to Blaisdell's myself to buy 'em back. Here's my
wallet an' my bank-book. Don't that prove it? I was goin' to pay any
price he asked. I set an' mulled over it all the evenin'. It got late,
an' then I started. It al'ays has took me a good long spell to make up
my mind to things. I wa'n't to blame this arternoon because I couldn't
tell what was best to do all of a whew!"