"
Dickey went out, his little convulsed form bent almost double. Willy,
staring at him with his great, wondering blue eyes, stood aside to let
him pass. Then he also was sent on an errand, while his mother and Miss
Elvira had a long consultation in the kitchen.
It was a half-hour before Mrs. Rose went out to the shed where she had
sent the Dickey boy to split kindlings. There lay a nice little pile of
kindlings, but the boy had disappeared.
"Dickey, Dickey!" she called. But he did not come.
"I guess he's gone, spoon and all," she told Miss Elvira, when she went
in; but she did not really think he had. When one came to think of it,
he was really too small and timid a boy to run away with one silver
spoon. It did not seem reasonable. What they did think, as time went on
and he did not appear, was that he was hiding to escape a whipping. They
searched everywhere. Miss Elvira stood in the shed by the wood-pile,
calling in her thin voice, "Come out, Dickey; we won't whip you if you
_did_ take it," but there was not a stir.
Towards night they grew uneasy. Mr. Fairbanks came, and they talked
matters over.
"Maybe he didn't take the spoon," said Mr. Fairbanks, uncomfortably.
"Anyhow, he's too young a chap to be set adrift this way. I wish you'd
let me talk to him, 'Mandy."
"_You!_" said Mrs. Rose. Then she started up. "I know one thing," said
she; "I'm goin' to see what's in that wooden box.
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