“Ever since Burr major had that watch, Mercer longed for it, and he was always talking about it, and wishing he had one.”
“Well, I couldn’t help that, Frank,” cried Mercer; “but of course I wouldn’t have taken it.”
“No, Tom,” I said, with a gulp, and my voice changing in spite of my efforts to be firm, and, a thorough schoolboy and companion once more, I blundered out, “but I was such a beast, I thought you had stolen it, and I wouldn’t speak to save myself for fear you should be expelled.”
“Oh!” cried Mercer in the midst of the silence which now fell.
Then, drawing a long breath, he went on,—
“You thought I took it and hid it?”
“Yes, Tom.”
“Oh, I say, Frank, when it was all at the worst, and you were locked up, I never thought a word against you; but—” He paused for a moment, and then, forgetting that we were not alone, he rushed at me and caught my hands.
“Then you forgive me?” I said.
“Why, of course,” he cried. “Oh, Frank, I am glad!”