Hi, there, Duncan Woodward! I called out. "What are you doing in
Widow Canby's orchard?" "None of your business, Roger Strong,"
replied the only son of the wealthiest merchant in Darbyville. "You
are stealing her pears," I went on. "Your pockets are full of
them." "See here, Roger Strong, just you mind your own business and
leave me alone." "I am minding my business," I rejoined warmly.
"Indeed!" And Duncan put as much of a sneer as was possible in the
word. "Yes, indeed. Widow Canby pays me for taking care of her
orchard, and that includes keeping an eye on these pear trees," and
I approached the tree upon the lowest branch of which Duncan was
standing.
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