“Why, yes,” answered Creelton slowly; “a watch came to him this morning. I saw it; it was a handsome gold watch, and also a chain came with it.”
“What was inscribed on the inside case?” exclaimed Ralph, impatiently.
“‘Ralph Osborn, from his Uncle George,’ or something like that,” replied Creelton deliberately.
“Did you see the letter he spoke of?” asked Himski.
“Yes, I read it. His uncle wrote from New York, and spoke of the watch as a Christmas present; he said he was leaving the city and would write later; I don’t remember exactly—but I saw the letter.”
“Fellows,” said Ralph, “I’m paralyzed, that’s all I can say. And I’m suspected of being a thief! I’ve lost my beautiful watch, but that’s a small thing in comparison.” Ralph spoke bitterly. “And there’s one thing that’s got to be settled right now. I want to know just exactly what you think of me.”
Himski crossed the room to where Ralph was standing with outstretched hand, and said heartily, “That’s what I think of you, Os.”
Bollup came up and offered his hand and said: “Forgive me, Os, if I need forgiveness. I’d rather bilge than believe that you had taken these things. But great heavens, how can this thing be explained? My watch is stolen. You receive a present of a watch and go to show it to me, and on the end of your chain is my watch. There’s a dirty thief here, fellows, and he’s got something against Os; that’s all there’s about it. Os, you must have an enemy here.”
“I can’t imagine it,” replied Ralph; “enemies so dark and mysterious don’t exist in real life; there isn’t a soul here I have ever had trouble with. It’s beyond me, fellows.”
Everybody present assured Ralph of their belief in his innocence, and Ralph felt better; Creelton now said: “Fellows, suppose we all agree not to speak of this matter to any one; it will be distorted and rumors will be spread about that will injure Os. Besides, if we——”