"The Dago's put!" he shouted. "He's put off and gone!"
We looked at him in amazement.
"Gone!" I exclaimed. "Shall I go after him? Has he paid his bill?"
"No, you needn't do that," said the boy. "He cut across the fields
like a chipmunk--skipped right over the fences! You'd never ketch him,
and you needn't try! He's off for the station. I'll tell you all
about it," said the boy, turning to his mistress, who had been too
much startled to ask any questions. "When he went into the
house"--jerking his head in my direction--"I was left alone with the
Dago, and he begun to talk to me. He asked me a lot of things. He
rattled on so I couldn't understand half he said. He wanted to know
how much a tire cost; he wanted to know how much his bill would be,
and if he'd have to pay for the little post that was broke.
"Then he asked if I thought that if he'd promise to send you the money
would the gentleman let him go without payin' for the tire, and he
wanted to know what your name was; and when I told him you hadn't no
husband, and what your name was, he asked me to say it over again, and
then he made me say it once more--the whole of it; and while I was
tellin' him that I'd write it down for him if he wanted to send you
the money, he give a big jump and he stuck his head out like a bull.
He looked so queer that I was gettin' skeered; and then he says,
almost whisperin': 'I go! I go away! I leave my bear! If she sell him,
that pay everything! I come back no more--never! never!' "I saw he was goin' to scoot, and I made a grab at him, but he give me
a push that nearly tore my collar off, and away he went. You never see
anybody run like he run. He was out of sight in no time."
"And he left his bear!" she exclaimed, in horror. "What on earth am I
to do with a bear?" She looked at me, and in spite of her annoyance
and perplexity she could not help joining me when I laughed outright.