“Say! they never called you, ‘that Smith boy’; did they?”
“Of course not,” admitted Ruth.
“Then you don’t know what you’re talking about. I had no more chance of being exonerated in any court around Lumberton than I had of flying to the moon! Everybody was down on me—including Gran.”
“Well, hadn’t they some reason?” asked Ruth, gravely.
“Mebbe they had. Mebbe they had,” cried Henry Smith. “But they ought to’ve known I wouldn’t steal.”
“You didn’t help those tramps, then?”
“There you go!” sniffed the boy. “You’re just as bad as the rest of ’em.”
“I’m asking you for information,” said Ruth, coolly. “I want to hear you say whether you did or not. I read about it in the paper.”
“Old Scratch! did they have it in the paper?” queried Curly, with wonder.
“Yes. And your grandmother is dreadfully disgraced——”