"Yes, but you paid Billy Fram to do it," put in Link. "You needn't deny it, for we can prove everything."
"Did Billy tell on me?" whined Sidney. "If he did I'll—I'll——"
"So you did have something to do with it, eh?" cried Mr. Yates. "A fine piece of business for you, I must say!"
"Billy did it. I didn't do it!"
"Yes, but you hired him to do it, and when it was done you paid him money, too," came from Frank. "You ought to be in jail this minute!"
"I am going to get at the bottom of this," said Mr. Yates, in a hard voice, which made his son shiver. "Sidney, you ought to be ashamed of yourself." He turned to the boys and Mr. Darrow. "Where is this Billy Fram?"
"Here he is!" came a voice from the rear, and two of the club members, who had slipped off after the little rascal, marched up with the lad between them.
"It wasn't my fault!" sniveled Billy Fram. "Sidney said he had a right to do it—that the club hadn't treated him honestly. I wouldn't have done it on my own account nohow! It's all his fault!" And then he began to bellow loudly.
"You shut up, or I'll give you something to cry for," said Frank. "Now tell the whole thing, and tell it straight, too."
Thoroughly frightened, Billy told his story, excusing himself in every possible way. Mr. Yates listened closely and put a number of questions to the lad.