Still Amos did not reply, but seemed hesitating what to say.  But here Walter broke in again.  "I call it downright mean!" he exclaimed bitterly; "but he's getting meaner and meaner, that he is.  What he does with his money nobody knows.  I suppose he spends it in religious pocket-handkerchiefs and pious bed-quilts for the little niggers in Africa, or something of the sort.  At any rate, he has none to spare for those nearer home."  He was about to say more, but happening to raise his eyes he was astonished to see the old butler, who had been slowly drawing nearer and nearer, raising his right arm, and looking at him almost fiercely, as though he were going to strike him.--"What's up now, Harry?" he cried; "is the black cat dead?"