ng
toward Tony-- "lost a lot of gum last fall, and you said I stole it?"

The red in Isaac's face gave place to a deathly pallor, but no reply
passed his lips.

"I don't see what use all these questions are," interrupted Mr. Furbush,
testily. "My son is not a prisoner on trial."

"Well, if he isn't," replied the man, significantly, "it won't hurt him
to answer a few questions. Now, young man, speak up. Didn't you
circulate the story that I stole that gum?"

Isaac began to cry.

"And you did this notwithstanding the fact that I pulled you out of Duck
Lake, thereby saving your life," said the stranger, severely. "Now I
want to jog your memory a little and get you in the habit of telling the
truth. Shall I go on?" he added, turning to Mr. Furbush.

"Oh, I suppose so," replied that individual, wearily. "Make it as short
as possible."

"I stopped a few nights with you and this little chap you call Tony last
fall," continued the stranger. "One night this Tony had a fine lot of
gum, and he put it away careful like. I forgot my pipe one morning, and
went back to the camp for it. The door was open, and I seen you taking
Tony's gum out of where he put it, and I dodged behind the camp and
watched you and see you take it and put it in a holler tree--a far-side
of the path to the spring."

He turned to young Morrison and continued:

"Yesterday morning, when I got up at the camp, I looked in the tree and
found there was a lot of gum. So I shot at it, just to draw your
attention to it. How much gum was concealed there?"

"About fifty pounds," replied Morrison.

"If you knew my son was doing as you claim he did, why did you not tell
this other boy?" demanded Mr. Furbush.

"Because," answered the stranger, "I didn't go back to the camp again
after I see this boy a-hiding it away in the tree, and the next time I
see 'em was when I pulled 'em out of the lake."

"Is that all?" asked Mr. Furbush. "If it is, I'd like to ascertain the
object of all these accusations and questions. What proof have we that
my son did this or that you didn't do it? The boy has his property back,
and why not let the matter drop? It looks to me like a trifling matter,
anyway."

The face of Isaac brightened a little at this, but when his eye met that
of the stranger, he trembled again.

"I'll tell you what the object of this is," he said. "This boy of yours
made me out a thief; now I want to show it's him and not me. As for
proof, I'll leave it