"What kind?" asked Jack quickly. "Let us help you."
"Sure," chimed in Bert. "Count on us, Tom. What are you going to do?"
"Clear my name, that's what I going to do. And I've got a hard job ahead of me."
"Not with us to help you!" exclaimed Jack.
"That's the worst of it," spoke Tom ruefully. "You fellows can't help me."
"Why not, I'd like to know," came from Bert quickly.
"Well, there are certain reasons. Look here, fellows, I'd tell you in a minute, if I could, but I can't. I'm bound to silence in a way, and I can't speak as I'd like to."
"But surely it oughtn't to be so hard for you to clear your name," insisted Jack. "All you've got to do is to prove that you weren't near the farm at the time the horses were poisoned, nor were you when the stacks caught fire. That ought to be easy."
"And surely you can show that if it wasn't you wearing that sweater, at the time the farmer saw you, it was someone else," went on Bert. "It was someone else; wasn't it, Tom?"
"Say, don't ask me any more questions," begged Tom. "I can't answer 'em all, and I don't want to get tangled up. All I can say is that I didn't have the first thing to do with those crimes, and I'm going to work to prove that I didn't. It's harder than it seems, but I'll do it."