"That, indeed! You remember Joe Young, over at East Fallville?"
"Yes, sir, I do."
"Well, he says that his brother, Charlie Young, was at his house to dinner on that Sunday that Mrs. Pell was killed. He says Charlie arrived about half-past twelve, and he staid there until after four o'clock. Says they were together all that time. Now, that man Joe Young, is, I am sure, an honest man. Besides, his story is verified by his wife. Of course, Charlie Young declares he was at his brother's during those hours, and in the face of all the corroboration I can't disbelieve it. But, granting that alibi, who is left to suspect but Winston Bannard?"
"How'd Young catch onto all the pin and dime and receipt business, anyway?" asked Fibsy, with seeming irrelevance.
"I don't know, I'm sure."
"There's something back of that," and Fibsy wagged a sagacious nod.
"Maybe. But whatever's back of it may incriminate Young to the extent of trying to get the pin from Miss Clyde, perhaps even having stolen the receipt from Bannard, but it positively lets him out of any implication in the murder."
"Oh—I don't know."
"Why, child, if he was really at Joe Young's house from noon till four o'clock, how could he have been here at the time Mrs. Pell was killed?"
"He couldn't." Fibsy was taciturn, but his knitted brow told of deep thought.