Mr. Van was real mad. "We've come after the money, Bill," he said.
Gramp got white. He was scared, but he said, loud, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You know what, Bill," Mr. Van said. "Someone saw you break into the store. It will go easier on you if you admit it."
"I told you I don't know what you're talking about," Gramp said. His eyes moved kind of quick. Then he noticed me and he walked over to me. "That's a fine way to talk in front of the boy," he said over his shoulder. He took my hand. "Come on, Chum. We're going in the house."
"Just a minute," the biggest policeman said. "We've got a few questions that we have to ask you."
Gramp made believe he was brushing some dirt from my pants. "Did anyone see me take the money, Chum?" he whispered to me.
"No," I said, even though I didn't understand exactly. "Mr. Van is just pretending he knows you took it but he doesn't."
"Good boy." Gramp patted me on the head. "Go into the house now."
He turned and walked back to the three men, pushing his wooden leg into the ground hard. I didn't go in the house, though.
"Now I've had just about enough of this," Gramp said, with a big frown on his face. "You can't bluff me, Van. Say what you got to say, and get off my property."