There was something weird about this silent man’s ability to turn the conversation as he chose to have it go.  Sitting by the Granny’s tea-table, nibbling corn-bread while he drank his glass of water, having declined even her sassafras, he ceased to stimulate her medical talk and opened the vein of gossip.  Once started, Granny Sanders was sure to allude to the robbery.  And once on the robbery the doctor’s course was clear.

“I ’low somebody not fur away is in this ’ere business!”

Not by a word, nor even by a nod, but by some motion of the eyelids, perhaps, Small indicated that he agreed with her.

“Who d’ye s’pose ’tis?”

But Dr. Small was not in the habit of supposing.  He moved his head in a quiet way, just the least perceptible bit, but so that the old creature understood that he could give light if he wanted to.

“I dunno anybody that’s been ’bout here long as could be suspected.”

Another motion of the eyelids indicated Small’s agreement with this remark.

“They a’n’t nobody come in here lately ‘ceppin’ the master.”

Small looked vacantly at the wall.

“But I low he’s allers bore a tip-top character.”

The doctor was too busy looking at his corn-bread to answer this remark even by a look.

“But I think these oversmart young men’ll bear looking arter, I do.”

Dr. Small raised his eyes and let them shine an assent.  That was all.

“Shouldn’t wonder ef our master was overly fond of gals.”

Doctor looks down at his plate.

“Had plenty of sweethearts afore he walked home with Hanner Thomson t’other night, I’ll bet.”

Did Dr. Small shrug his shoulder?  Granny thought she detected a faint motion of the sort, but she could not be sure.

“And I think as how that a feller what trifles with gals’ hearts and then runs off ten miles, maybe a’n’t no better’n he had orter be.  That’s what I says, says I.”

To this general remark Dr. Small assented in his invisible—­shall I say intangible?—­way.

“I allers think, maybe, that some folks has found it best to leave home and go away.  You can’t never tell.  But when people is a-bein’ robbed it’s well to lookout.  Hey?”

“I think so,” said Small quietly, and, having taken his hat and bowed a solemn and respectful adieu, he departed.

He had not spoken twenty words, but he had satisfied the news-monger of Flat Creek that Ralph was a bad character at home and worthy of suspicion of burglary.

FOOTNOTES: 

[Footnote 18:  The original from which this character was drawn is here described accurately.  The author now knows that such people are not to be put into books.  They are not realistic enough.]

CHAPTER XI

MISS MARTHA HAWKINS.