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Updated: June 27, 2025
"I've lost money by you; ye ain't never paid me for the last month I worked for ye." "Ye paid yerself ye paid yerself," said Jabe, tartly. "And if ye stole once ye would again " "Now stop right there, Jabe Potter!" cried Parloe, and Ruth knew that he had stepped closer to Mr. Potter, and was speaking in a trembling rage.
Here's yer niece, Jabe, come ter live on ye an' be an expense to ye," and so, chuckling and screwing up his mean, sly face, Parloe drove on, leaving the miller standing with arms akimbo, and staring at Ruth, who was slowly alighting from the automobile with her bag. Helen squeezed her hand tightly as she got out "Don't forget that we are your friends, Ruthie," she whispered.
The man on the seat was speaking as the automobile came to a stop immediately behind the wagon. "Jefers pelters! Ef there's one thing yeou know how to do, it's to take toll, Jabe. Let the flour be poor, or good, there's little enough of it comes back to the man that raises the wheat." "You don't have to bring your wheat here, Jasper Parloe," said the miller, in a strong, harsh voice.
"The last time ye was at the mill I lost something I lost more than I kin afford to lose again," continued Uncle Jabez. "I don't say ye took it. They tell me the flood took it. But I'm going to know the right of it some time, and if you know more about it than you ought " "What air ye talkin' about, Jabe Potter?" shrilled Parloe.
"Don't matter a mite whose ten dollars I handle," he said, suggestively. "Your ten dollars would be jest as welcome to me as your Dad's, Master Cameron." "Ten dollars is a lot of money," said Tom. "Yes. It's right smart. I could make use of it I'm a poor man, an' I could use it nicely," admitted the sly and furtive Parloe. "I haven't got so much money now," growled the boy.
"There is no law compels ye." "Yah!" snarled old Parloe. "We all know ye, Jabe Potter. We know what ye be." Potter turned away. He had not noticed the two girls in the automobile. But now Jasper Parloe saw them. "Ho!" he cried, "here's somebody else that will l'arn ter know ye, too. Didn't know you was ter hev comp'ny; did ye, Jabe?
"That's what we mean to do," was the reply. Ruth waited beside the old doctor, not without some apprehension. How would this Tom Cameron look? What kind of a boy was he? According to Jasper Parloe he was a very bad boy, indeed. She had heard that he was the son of a rich man.
I heered him say that he'd give a ten-dollar note ter know who it was drove by ye that night and crowded ye inter the ditch. Would you give more than that not ter have it known who done it?" "What do you mean?" exclaimed Tom, angrily. "I guess ye like this here gal that's cone to live on Jabez, purty well; don't ye yeou an' yer sister?" croaked old Parloe.
"That there dawg don't seem ter take to me," drawled Jasper Parloe, who was the person on the bridge. "He needn't be afraid. I wouldn't touch the basket." "You won't be likely to touch it while Reno has charge of it," said Tom, quietly, while the girls passed on swiftly. Neither Ruth nor Helen liked to have anything to do with Parloe.
Helen, looking over her shoulder, pointed to two faded letters painted on the cover of the box. "That belongs to Jasper Parloe. His initials are on the box," she said. "'J. P. that's right, I guess," muttered Tom. It could not be gainsaid that Parloe's initials were there. Ruth stared at them for some moments in silence. Better put it back.
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