My aunt and uncle and Mr. Dunkelberg moved with astonishment as I spoke of the scar. Mr. Grimshaw, with keen eyes fixed upon me, gave a little grunt of incredulity. "Huh!--Liar!" he muttered. "I am not a liar," I declared with indignation, whereupon my aunt angrily stirred the fire in the stove and Uncle Peabody put his hand on my arm and said: "Hush, Bart! Keep your temper, son." "If you tell these things you may be the means of sending an innocent boy to his death," Mr. Dunkelberg said to me. "I wouldn't be too sure about 'em if I were you. It's so easy to be mistaken. You couldn't be sure in the dusk that the stone really hit him, could you?" I answered: "Yes, sir--I saw the stone hit and I saw him put his hand on the place while he was running. I guess it hurt him some." "Look a' here, Baynes," Mr. Grimshaw began in that familiar scolding tone of his. "I know what you want an' we might jest as well git right down to business first as last. You keep this boy still an' I'll give ye five years' interest." Aunt Deel gave a gasp and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Uncle Peabody changed color as he rose from his chair with a strange look on his face. He swung his big right hand in the air as he said: "By the eternal jumpin'--" He stopped, pulled down the left sleeve of his flannel shirt and walked to the water pail and drank out of the dipper. "The times are hard," Grimshaw resumed in a milder tone. "These days the rich men dunno what's a-comin' to 'em. If you don't have no interest to pay you ought to git along easy an' give this boy the eddication of a Sile Wright." There was that in his tone and face which indicated that in his opinion Sile had more "eddication" than any man needed. "Say, Mr. Grimshaw, I'm awful sorry for ye," said my uncle as he returned to his chair, "but I've always learnt this boy to tell the truth an' the hull truth. I know the danger I'm in. We're gettin' old. It'll be hard to start over ag'in an' you can ruin us if ye want to an' I'm as scared o' ye as a mouse in a cat's paw, but this boy has got to tell the truth right out plain. I couldn't muzzle him if I tried--he's too much of a man. If you're scared o' the truth you mus' know that Amos is guilty." Mr. Grimshaw shook his head with anger and beat the floor with the end of his cane. "Nobody knows anything o' the kind, Baynes," said Mr. Dunkelberg. "Of course Amos never thought o' killing anybody. He's a harmless kind of a boy. I know him well and so do you. The only thing that anybody ever heard against him is that he's a little lazy. Under the circumstances Mr. Grimshaw is afraid that Bart's story will make it difficult for Amos to prove his innocence. Just think of it. That boy was lost and wandering around in the woods at the time o' the murder. As to that scar, Amos says that he ran into a stub when he was going through a thicket in the night." Uncle Peabody shook his head with a look of firmness.