"Thankey,
son," said the stranger; "I'm not as strong as I was, an' the sun's
mighty hot, an' these streets of yours smell mighty bad, and I've had
a powerful lot of trouble these last few days. But if I could see this
man Perceval before my boy does, I know I could fix it, and it would
all come out right."
"What do you want to see him about?" repeated the trailer,
suspiciously, while he fanned the old man with his hat. Snipes could
not have told you why he did this or why this particular old
countryman was any different from the many others who came to buy
counterfeit money and who were thieves at heart as well as in deed.
"I want to see him about my son," said the old man to the little boy.
"He's a bad man whoever he is. This 'ere Perceval is a bad man. He
sends down his wickedness to the country and tempts weak folks to sin.
He teaches 'em ways of evil-doing they never heard of, and he's ruined
my son with the others--ruined him. I've had nothing to do with the
city and its ways; we're strict living, simple folks, and perhaps
we've been too strict, or Abraham wouldn't have run away to the city.
But I thought it was best, and I doubted nothing when the fresh-air
children came to the farm.
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