"Well?" said Fred, encouragingly, as the other paused for reflection.
"I gave my little message, and came away as quick as I could," Bristles presently went on, with a big sigh. "All the rest of the afternoon I was patting myself on the back, Fred, and saying the old lady would have a chance to change her mind about little Andrew. But it didn't wash, Fred, not a bit of it."
"You said, I believe, that two more of the opals had vanished; when did you hear about that?" asked Fred, to hurry his chum along.
"Why, after I came in just before supper time, feeling better than for several days. I saw with one eye that mom was bothered again over something, and I understood what it was when she handed me a little note she'd got late that afternoon from Aunt Alicia."
He fumbled about in his pockets for several minutes, until Fred grew impatient.
"Never mind about the note," he remarked; "perhaps you handed it back, or you may have lost it, Bristles. I should think you could tell me the gist of it."
"You'd better guess I can!" burst forth the other, with renewed feeling. "It ran about this way, Fred: She had the unpleasant duty to perform of telling mother that two more of her opals had disappeared that afternoon, and could not be found, high or low. She was not accusing anybody of taking them, oh! no, not for worlds; but it was a strange coincidence, that was all."
"Whew! that sounds hot off the bat!" remarked Fred, with a low whistle to indicate his feelings in the matter.
"Yes, she used that very word," Bristles went on; "and I guess it hit the case right well, for it is a coincidence, I give you my solemn word, Fred, and nothing more."
"I believe you. Bristles; I'm as sure of it as if she suspected me of taking her opals, and I knew I was innocent. But was that all the note said?"