Elsie shook her head.
“No, it would never occur to Aunt Mattie to accuse John. He’s the one person in the family she trusts. She always says she is leaving him all her money in her will—so why would he bother to steal it?”
“He might need it now, for some particular purpose,” replied Jane. “He is handy with tools, you say—and had such a good opportunity.”
“We better get on with the story,” urged Mary Louise. “Any minute Elsie may be called in.”
The girl shuddered, as if she dreaded the ordeal of meeting her aunt again.
“Was your aunt Grace in the bedroom at all during the afternoon?” questioned Mary Louise. “By herself, I mean?”
“I don’t know. She and Aunt Mattie went up together to look at the window after John finished fixing it, but whether or not Aunt Grace was there alone, I couldn’t say. Anyhow, there’s no use worrying about that. Aunt Grace just couldn’t steal anything.”
“According to the detective stories,” put in Jane, “it’s the person who just couldn’t commit the crime who always is the guilty one. The one you suspect least.”
“But this isn’t a story,” said Elsie. “I wish it were. If you knew how dreadful it is for me, living here and having everybody think I’m a thief!”
“Why don’t you run away, now that you have some decent clothes?” suggested Jane. “I just wouldn’t stand for anything like that!”