"Perhaps they went out of the window." "They couldn't: they were on the floor." "That black rascal's got 'em, you may be sure." At this last sentence, Nelly gave Rob a push under the table with her foot, and his face turned very red. In a moment more, Ben entered the car; as he was passing the Marches' table, the angry man from the next section called out, in a very rude way:-- "Here, you nigger, what'd you do with my onions?" Ben stood stock-still, he was so astonished. "Ungyuns!" he exclaimed; "I never seed no ungyuns." "Yes, you did! You must have: you've stowed 'em away somewhere. Now jest you pass 'em out, or I'll report you." Ben had never been accused of stealing before. He looked the man full in the face, and said:-- "You can do all the reportin' yer want to, mister. I never seed your ungyuns." And he was about to pass on; but the man was so angry, and so sure that Ben must have taken his onions, that he stood in the middle of the aisle, right in Ben's way, and would not let him pass. "Hand 'em over now," he said, in the most insulting tone; "hand 'em over." Mr. March, who had been watching the scene with some amusement, was very much astonished, on looking at Rob at this moment, to see his cheeks flushed, his lips parted as if he were about to speak. "Why, Rob," he said, "do you know where the onions are?" "No," said Rob. Nelly gave an involuntary gasp, under her breath, "Oh!" Mr. March looked at her in still greater surprise. "Do you, Nell?" he said. Nelly did not reply, but looked at Rob, who said:-- "I don't know where they are now." But his expression was a very guilty one. "Rob!" said his father, sternly, "you know something about those onions: tell me this moment." Nelly clasped her hands tight, and gave a little cry, "Oh, Rob!" Now that the final moment had come, Rob spoke up like a man. "Papa, I threw them out of the car door,--they made such a smell. I found them close to our berth when I first got up, and they smelled so horrid I threw them away. Perhaps they weren't this man's onions," said poor Rob, clutching at a last hope. Mr. March could hardly believe his ears. "You! You took what did not belong to you, and then threw it away! Why, Rob! I am ashamed of you! Why, Rob, I wouldn't have believed it!" exclaimed Mr. March. "You will pay for those onions out of your allowance." And he looked at Rob more sternly than he had ever done in his life. "Come, now, immediately," he continued, "and apologize to the man." And he took Rob by the hand and led him to the next seat. "I am very sorry to tell you, sir," he said, "that my little boy here took your onions and threw them away. He shall buy some for you at the very first station where we can." "What'd yer throw 'em away for?" said the man, looking curiously and not unkindly at Rob, whose face was enough to make anybody sorry for him.