"After what you've made us put up with I should say yes!" snorted Mr. Davidson. "But there was somebody else; we've got evidence. It was the other man who tried to rob Witherbee's—the same night! You've been keeping bad company, young man."
Billy glanced again at Rosalind, but her face was averted from him.
"And, Morton, I'm surprised at you," continued Mr. Davidson. "If you really knew him, why didn't you tell me?"
"Um—ah! But—don't you see?—it would have been hardly sporting. Oh, not a bit!"
"And you deliberately let me go on making a fool of myself!"
The Englishman shrugged.
"And it was you who sent the customs men to look up Morton, I suppose," added Mr. Davidson, turning again to his nephew.
"I'm sorry I did that; it was just an impulse. I only wanted to bother him some."
Uncle Henry made an exasperated gesture.
"Well, you're disgraced, and so am I," he growled. "You're a worse scapegrace than I believed. You've made a fool out of everybody, including Miss Chalmers, who I understand has been employing you."