The young gardener stood uncertain, his eyes roving from one girl to the other and back to Arden.
“You—you——” faltered Arden. “I know! Yes, I’m certain now! You are Harry Pangborn!”
“Arden!” gasped Sim. “Arden!”
“What are you saying?” exclaimed Terry, dropping her half-eaten apple.
“This is the man we saw in the post office!” went on Arden, her words and breath coming rapidly. “I mean he’s the picture we saw—I mean he is the original of the man wanted in the police poster. You are, aren’t you?” she challenged.
CHAPTER XXVII
A Telegram
For a moment it seemed as if the young man was going to deny Arden’s statement or at least flee from the scene. But again he smiled in a disarming and friendly fashion, shrugged his shoulders as though getting rid of another weight, and, spreading his hands in a helpless and surrendering gesture, said:
“Yes, I am Harry Pangborn. You have found me out. I thought it wouldn’t be long after I shaved off my mustache. Well, I’m just as glad it happened this way since it had to happen. I was about to end the little masquerade, anyhow.”
“Oh, please let us end it!” begged Arden. “I mean if we are allowed to tell——” She seemed confused and blushed.
“Yes, I know,” said young Mr. Pangborn. “Well, have it your way. I would rather see you profit by it than anyone else. You did me a favor the night the ram came at me.”