"Did you ever find out just what it was that Sylvester had done?" I
asked.
"Well, never exactly," the old Squire replied, smiling. "But I made
certain surmises. Less than a fortnight after my talk with Rufus our
neighbors, the Wilburs, were astonished one morning to find that during
the night a full barrel of salt pork had been set on their porch by the
kitchen door. Every mark had been carefully scraped off the barrel, but
on the top head were the words, printed with a lead pencil, 'This is
yourn and I am sorry.'
"Fourteen years before, the Wilburs had lost a large hog very
mysteriously. At that time domestic animals were allowed to run about
much more freely than at present, and they often strayed along the
highway. Sylvester was always in poor circumstances; and I believe that
Wilbur's hog came along the road by night and that Rufus was tempted to
make way with it privately and to conceal all traces of the theft.
"In spite of the words on the head of the barrel, Mr. Wilbur was in some
doubt what to do with the pork and asked my advice. I told him that if I
were in his place I should keep it and say nothing. But I didn't tell
him of my talk with Sylvester about the unpardonable sin," the old
gentleman added, smiling.
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