I was sick of skulking.

"Sir," said I, swallowing hard several times, "I know what killed those colts!" The old Squire glanced quickly at me, started to speak, but, seeing how greatly agitated I was, kindly refrained from questioning me.
"It was fox pills!" I blurted out.

"Willis Murch and Ad and I had a fox bed up there last winter.

We never thought of it when the colts were put in.

They ate the poison pills." The old Squire made no comment, and I plunged into further details.
"That accounts for it, then," he said at last.
I had expected him to speak plainly to me about those fox pills, but he merely asked me what I thought of using poison in trapping.
"I never would use it again!" I exclaimed hotly.