“If I promise to try, you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”
“Yes! yes!”
“I’ll do all I can, then. I have been accused of knowing something about that forged check.”
“You didn’t, Don—you didn’t know a thing about it!” declared Leon, instantly. “I hooked it from your governor’s check-book the night I came over to tell you about the game at Highland. I had the doctor’s writing down fine from practicing on that excuse business, and I forged the check. Then I didn’t dare to get it cashed here, so I took it over to Freeport, where I bought some stuff and got a man to take the check and give me the difference in money. He must have got nervous about it afterward, or he’d never hurried it back here the way he did.”
Don did not even look at Simeon Drew, who was leaning against the door, wagging his jaws over a chew of tobacco and listening to every word that passed between the boys. He was certain now that the suspicion of this crime would be lifted from him, but there was yet another thing about which he wished to know the truth.
“How about that remnant of a letter you claimed you picked up from beneath Renwood’s desk?” he asked.
“Why, what does that have to do with this business?”
“You have promised to tell me the truth in everything,” said Don, grimly. “If you do not—if you hold back or lie about a single thing, I’ll not speak one word to help you! Was that remnant of a letter genuine?”
“No,” admitted the young scamp, trying to force a grin; “I faked that up.”
Don steadied himself on his feet, feeling that the ground on which he had fancied he stood securely was dropping from beneath him bit by bit.