"And my car," added Bartlett angrily.
"He could not have taken both," declared the general.
"You were robbed last night, weren't you?" demanded the farmer. "Well, then?"
"And my car is gone, isn't it?" demanded Bartlett.
"Yes, yes," acknowledged the general, feeling that every word he said only made the other two angrier, but still clinging to his deductions as to his life's principles. "Yes, of course; but Alphonse could not have done both. He went off with the car before eleven, so he could not have robbed us after twelve—"
"Sir," interrupted the farmer with a quiet dignity that was impressive, "do you accuse any of us of stealing?"
"No, no," protested the general, now hopelessly rattled. "But if Alphonse stole the money—"
"Alphonse swiped both," said the Watermelon, and that settled it as far as the general was concerned, for the general had boundless faith in the young man's deductive abilities. "I went in about eleven. He took the car out, ran it down the road a bit and then came back and sneaked our things."
"Certainly," said Bartlett, who could not help feeling irritated with the general for the fault of his man.
Billy laughed. "All this bother about nothing," said she. "Dad, what's one car, more or less?"