The German groans.
Suddenly Mr. Rushton feels a hand upon his arm. He turns round: it is
Redbud.
"That is the man who sold me the necklace, sir!" she says, in a
hesitating voice. "I recognize him--it is the pedlar."
Mr. Rushton starts, and catches the pedlar by the arm.
"Come!" he commences.
The pedlar rises without assistance, sullenly, prepared for the
stocks.
"Where did you get this necklace? Speak!"
The lawyer's eyes awe the man, and he stammers. Mr. Rushton grasps him
by the collar, and glares at him ferociously.
"Where?"
In five minutes he has made the pedlar speak--he bought the necklace
from the mother of the young man standing at the door.
"From the Indian woman?"
"Yes, from her."
Mr. Rushton turns pale, and falls into a chair.
Verty hastens to him.
The lawyer rises, and gazes at him with pale lips, passes his hand
over his brow with nervous, trembling haste. He holds the necklace up
before Verty there, and says, in a husky voice--
"Where did your mother get this?"
Verty gazes at the necklace, and shakes his head.
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