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Updated: May 20, 2025
Tunk, who had been outside the door in his best clothes, but who, since he put them on, had looked as if he doubted the integrity of his suspenders and would not come in the house, began to laugh loudly. "That man Tunk can see the comedy in all but himself," was Trove's thought, as he returned with a smile of amusement.
They built a rude lean-to, covered with bark, and bedded with fragrant boughs. Both lay in the firelight, Darrel smoking his pipe, as the night fell. "Now for thy tale," said the tinker. The tale was Trove's own solution of his life mystery, shrewdly come to, after a long and careful survey of the known facts.
They came close together and whispered. Then a little cry of despair, and one of them fell and was borne into a near house. A young man ran up the stairway at the Sign of the Dial and rapped loudly at Darrel's door, Trove and the tinker were inside. "Old fellow," said the newcomer, his hand upon Trove's arm, "they've voted to indict you, and I've seen all the witnesses."
Tunk went ahead, bearing a pine torch, while Trove followed, the blanket over his shoulder. They built a roaring fire in front of the shanty and sat down to talk. "How have you been?" Trove inquired. "Like t' killed me there at the ol' maids'." "Were they rough with you?" "No," said Tunk, gloomily. "What then?" "Hoss." "Kicked?" was Trove's query. "Lord! I should think so. Feel there."
Whoever had brought the money, he must have known much of the plans and habits of the young man, and, the night before Trove's arrival at Robin's Inn, he came, probably, to the sugar woods, where he spent the next day in hiding. The young man was deeply troubled.
Trove inquired presently. "Home," said the old man. There was a puzzled look on Trove's face. "Home?" he repeated with a voice of inquiry. "I have, sor," the clock tinker went on. "This poor shelter is not me home it's only for a night now an' then. I've a grand house an' many servants an' a garden, sor, where there be flowers lovely flowers an' sunlight an' noble music.
God love thee, child!" said the tinker, in a tone of great admiration. "'Tis beautiful." "And, you came through the woods?" said Polly. "Through wood and field," was Trove's answer. "I wonder you knew the way." "The little god o' love he shot his arrows, an' we followed them as the hunter follows the bee," said Darrel. "It was nice of you to bring the flowers," said Polly. "They are beautiful."
Soon it rushed across the floor, chasing a ball of yarn, but quickly got under cover. Before the end of that day Trove and the new pet were done with all distrust of each other. The big cat grew in size and playful confidence. Often it stalked the young man with still foot and lashing tail, leaping stealthily over chairs and, betimes, landing upon Trove's back.
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