“Yes, a coat. Maybe you know who hid it; I can guess, myself. That coat was burned some. How do you s'pose it got burned? And say! who used to wear a big white hat round these diggin's? Ah, ha! Who did?” There was no doubt about the Captain's start this time. He wheeled sharply in his chair, and looked at the speaker. “Humph!” he exclaimed. “You found that hat, did you?” “That's what I done! And where do you think I found it? Why, right at the back of my shed where the fire started. And there'd been a pile of shavin's there, too, and there'd been kerosene on 'em. Who smashed the bottle over in the field, hey?” Captain Eri seemed to be thinking. “Web” evidently set his own interpretation on this silence, for he went on, raising his voice as he did so. “Did you think I was fool enough not to know who set that fire? I knew the night she burned, and when I met Dr. Palmer jest comin' from your house, and he told me how old Baxter was took sick goin' to the fire--oh, yes, GOIN'--I went up on that hill right off, and I hunted and I found things, and what I found I kept. And what I found when I pulled that burned shed to pieces I kept, too. And I've got 'em yit!” “You have, hey? Dear! dear!” “You bet I have! And somebody's goin' to pay for 'em. Goin' to pay, pay, PAY! Is that plain?” The Captain made no answer. He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked at the stove dolefully, so it seemed to the man of business. “Fust off I thought I'd have the old cuss jailed,” continued Mr. Saunders. “Then, thinks I, 'No, that won't pay me for my buildin' and my bus'ness hurt and all that.' So I waited for Baxter to git well, meanin' to make him pay or go to the jug. But he stayed sick a-purpose, I b'lieve, the mean, white-headed, psalm-singin'--” Captain Eri moved uneasily and broke in, “You got your insurance money, didn't you?” “Yes, I did, but whose fault is that? 'Twa'n't his, nor any other darned 'Come-Outer's.' It don't pay me for my trouble, nor it don't make me square with the gang. I gen'rally git even sometime or 'nother, and I'll git square now. When that girl come here, swellin' 'round and puttin' on airs, I see my chance, and told her to pay up or her granddad would be shoved into Ostable jail. That give her the jumps, I tell you!” “You wrote her a letter, didn't you?” “You bet I did! She come 'round to see me in a hurry. Said she didn't have no money. I told her her granddad did, an she could git that or go to work and earn some. I guess she thought she'd ruther work. Oh, I've got her and her prayin', house-burnin' granddad where I want 'em, and I've got you, too, Eri Hedge, stickin' your oar in. Talk to me 'bout blackmail! For two cents I'd jail the old man and you, too!” This was the real Mr. Saunders. He usually kept this side of his nature for home use; his wife was well acquainted with it. Captain Eri was evidently frightened. His manner had become almost apologetic.