FRED'S BRAVE STAND
"Excuse me, ma'am, but surely you do not believe that," Fred managed to say in another minute; and his voice may have trembled a little with emotion; though his manner was as frank and fearless as ever, as he looked straight into the snappy black eyes of the angry old lady.
"Three more of the gems are gone, and they were here this morning, because I took them out in my hand, and counted them," she declared, furiously; yet beginning to feel uncomfortable under his steady look.
"But why should you even think that I took them, Miss Muster?" he demanded.
"Because—you are the only person besides myself who has been in this room the entire day. Mammy has been sick in bed since nine o'clock; and Jake Stall did not put a foot inside the house to my personal knowledge," but although she said this as if to signify that her mind was made up, Fred could detect a little hesitation.
She already began to realize the absurdity of the accusation.
"Stop and think, ma'am, and I'm sure your own sense will tell you that you are wronging me when you say that," the boy argued, with the same positive air of conviction that had made his father declare he would make a good lawyer, if ever he felt inclined to study for the bar.
"In what way, boy?" Miss Muster faltered.
"Because in the first place you called me into your house of your own accord, when I was passing. I wouldn't have come, only that you said you were in some sort of trouble, and needed help. Then, think again, Miss Muster—you opened this door which had been shut all the time; you hurried into this room, and over to that stand. You know, ma'am, I was never within six feet of that little bowl. Right now I am half way between the table and the door. My arms would have to be pretty long to reach over there, wouldn't they now, Miss Muster?"
She saw his point. And indeed, even before he clinched the fact in this ingenious way the old lady was ready to admit that she had been unwisely hasty in making that passionate accusation.