Tad Butler understood now. He had suspected the truth almost from the beginning. Chunky had been talking again.
"Will you tell me where the jail is?"
"Jail? There ain't no jail here. I reckon Jed's got the younker over to his house. He's waitin' for Squire Halliday to come back. The squire's been down to Bangor, else they would have tried the younker yesterday."
Tad was thankful for the business that had called the squire to Bangor, and he hoped the justice would return in a pleasant frame of mind.
"Will you tell me where Mr. Whitman lives?"
The porter stepped out into the street, and, pointing down to the lower end, said:
"That yaller house on the right."
"Thank you," answered Tad, starting off.
"Charlie, do you understand now? They arrested Stacy for killing that moose. The game warden has him at his house down yonder. Master Stacy is not in jail at all. Now you run back to the camp and tell Professor Zepplin. Tell him he had better come in and wait for me at the hotel. I will meet him there in about an hour. Do you understand?"
"Me know. Game warden git fat boy. Fat boy kill moose." Charlie made a motion of drawing a knife across his throat.