CHAPTER XLIII.
Why Thomas Putnam Went to Ipswich.
What young Master Joseph Putnam undertook to do, he was apt to do pretty thoroughly.

When he had once made up his mind to keep both his brother's wife and his brother himself, away from the examination, he had rapidly thought over various plans, and adopted two which he felt pretty certain would not fail.

They all involved a little deceit, or at least double dealing--and he hated both those things with a righteous hatred--but it was to prevent a great injustice, and perhaps to save life.
As he rode rapidly homeward, turning over various plans, in his mind, he had passed through the village, when he saw some one approaching on what seemed to be the skeleton of an old horse.

He at once recognized the rider as an odd character, a carpenter, whom he at one time had occasion to employ in doing some work on a small property he owned in Ipswich.
Reining up his horse, Master Putnam stopped to have a chat with the man--whose oddity mainly consisted in his taciturnity, which was broken only by brief and pithy sentences.
"A fine day Ezekiel--how are things in Ipswich ?" "Grunty!" "Ah! I am sorry to hear it.

Why, what is the matter ?" "Broomsticks, chiefly." "You mean the witches.