“No, she didn’t. We proved that.”
“Then who did?” inquired John.
“I think I had better not say,” answered Mary Louise. “That’s over and done with. Your mother knows—if you want, you can ask her.”
John smiled. Mary Louise believed he had guessed the solution himself.
“You don’t really think Elsie would take the gold or the necklace, do you, Mr. Grant?” she asked anxiously. “Of course, you know her a lot better than I do.”
“I don’t know. She might argue that she had a right to some of that money. It wasn’t quite fair that Aunt Mattie got all of Grandfather’s fortune, and Elsie’s father didn’t get a penny.... Yes, she might take it, while I don’t believe she would ever steal anything else.”
Mary Louise shuddered: it seemed as if she were the only person in the world who still considered Elsie innocent.
“There’s a colored family who live down the hill in back of Dark Cedars. Could they know about the necklace, Mr. Grant, do you suppose?”
“Abraham Lincoln Jones? Yes, they could have heard rumors about it—just as those gypsies did. But I happen to know that man, and I am sure he is thoroughly honest.”
“Would he steal chickens?”