“Did you know your nephew was out last night?” asked Mr. Webster of Mr. Norton sharply.
“Yes, he was,” replied my guardian.
“How long?”
“I don’t know when he came in,” was the answer. “But, oh, sir, I cannot believe that he is a thief!”
And Mr. Norton’s voice trembled with apparent emotion.
“And neither I am!” I cried. “He was out as well as I was, and I found that stone right here on the floor early this morning.”
“Too thin,” sneered Mr. Webster. “Hold him, Pointer. Have we a right to search the house?”
“Yes, yes; search all you please,” put in Mr. Norton hastily. “If the dear boy has done wrong, let it be made right as quickly as possible!”
At that moment Ford came in. He had seen the crowd of men, and he wanted to know what was up.
“Can’t make me believe that Rube stole any diamonds!” he ejaculated, when he had heard the story. “I’d rather believe his uncle here was the guilty party.”