The accusation made them all sheepish. One old woman, though, wasn't having any of it. 'We know Davy, I reckon,' she said. 'It's you we never set eyes on.'

'And never will again, I promise you,' said Alvin. 'You can bet I'll tell this tale wherever I travel - Westville, Kenituck, where a stranger can't get a bite to eat, and a man is guilty before he even hears the accusation.'

'If there's no truth to it,' said the old woman, 'how did you know it was Davy Crockett a-telling the tale?'

The others nodded and murmured as if this were a telling point.

"Cause Davy Crockett accused me of it to my face,' said Alvin, 'and he's the only one who ever looked at me and my boy and thought of burglaring. I'll tell you what I told him. If we're burglars, why ain't we in a big city with plenty of fine houses to rob? A burglar could starve to death, trying to find something to steal in a town as poor as this one.'

'We ain't poor,' said the man on the porch.

'You got no food to spare,' said Alvin. 'And there ain't a house here with a door that even locks.'

'See?' cried the old woman. 'He's already checked our doors to see how easy they'll be to break into!'

Alvin shook his head. 'Some folks see sin in sparrows and wickedness in willow trees.' He took Arthur Stuart by the shoulder and turned to head back out of town the way they came.

'Hold, stranger!' cried a man behind them. They turned to see a large man on horseback approaching slowly along the road. The people parted to make way for him.

'Quick, Arthur,' Alvin murmured. 'Who do you reckon this is?'

'The miller,' said Arthur Stuart.

'Good morning to you, Mr Miller!' cried Alvin in greeting.

'How did you know my trade?' asked the miller.