salt, not to mention
their fatted chicks, their pickled peaches, their jams and jellies.
It's an outrage to insinuate, as you do, that these kind neighbours
are common thieves."

My brother looked quite distressed. "Of course Mrs. Swiggart can know
nothing about it. She is a real good sort; the best wife and mother in
the county. And I'm only quoting Uncle Jake. He says that fifteen
steers at $30 a head make $450. Laban built a barn that spring, and
put up a tank and windmill."

With this Parthian shot my brother left me to some sorry reflections.
I cordially liked and respected Laban Swiggart and his family. He had
married a Skenk. No name in our county smelled sweeter than Skenk: a
synonym, indeed, for piety, deportment, shell-work, and the preserving
of fruits. The Widow Skenk lived in San Lorenzo, hard by the
Congregational Church; and it was generally conceded that the hand of
one of her daughters in marriage was a certificate of character to the
groom. No Skenk had been known to wed a drunkard, a blasphemer, or an
evil liver. Moreover, Laban had been the first to welcome us--two raw
Englishmen--to a country where inexperience is a sin. He had helped us
over many a stile; he had saved us many dollars. And he had an honest
face. Broad, benignant brows surmounted a pair of keen and kindly
eyes; his nose proclaimed a sense of humour; his mouth and chin were
concealed by a beard almost apostolic in its silky beauty. Could such
a man be a thief?

The very next day Laban rode down his steep slopes and asked us to
help him and his to eat a Christmas turkey. He said something, too,
about a fine ham, and a "proposition," a money-making scheme, to be
submitted to us after the banquet.

"Hard times are making you rich," said Ajax.

"My God!" he exclaimed passionately, "have I not been poor long
enough? Have I not seen my wife and children suffering for want of
proper food and clothing? If prosperity is coming my way, boys, I've
paid the price for it, and don't you forget it."

His eyes were suffused with tears, and Ajax took note of it. My
brother told me later that so tender a husband and father was
assuredly no cattle-thief.

Upon Christmas Day we sat at meat for nearly two hours. Mrs. Doctor
Tapper, the wife of the stout dentist of San Miguelito, was present.
Of the three Misses Skenk she had made the best match--from a worldly
point of view. She wore diamonds; she kept two hired girls; she
entertained on a hands