Jason Sparr nodded.
“Saying we were guilty?”
“Yes.”
“Who wrote it?”
“Never mind that. You’re guilty, and you know it. Just wait till Hickson comes back with 175 them others and I’ll show you a thing or two,” continued the hotel man, harshly.
“Mr. Sparr, I said I wanted to talk to you, and I do want to,” said Dave, after a pause. “You will find it to your advantage to listen to me. You have got this whole thing settled in your own mind, but you are dead wrong. You intend to have us locked up for something we didn’t do. To have us locked up will blacken our characters and blacken the reputation of Oak Hall. My folks are respectable people, and so are the folks of the other boys. Do you think they will stand for this sort of thing? And do you think Doctor Clay will stand for it? If you do, you are greatly mistaken. If you have us arrested on this charge, which is absolutely false, I’ll get my folks to sue you for false imprisonment and defamation of character, and I know the other fellows will do the same. And you can rest assured that the charges against you will be pushed to the limits of the law.”
At this plain talk Jason Sparr’s jaw dropped. Several times he was on the point of interrupting, but thought better of it.
“Well, now—er––” he stammered when Dave had finished.
“My father is a United States senator,” said Roger. “You don’t suppose he will let a matter like this pass unnoticed? If you do anything to 176 besmirch our family name, you’ll take the consequences.”
“Your father is a United States senator?” faltered Jason Sparr.