"When did this happen?" asked Dorothy, quickly, trying to turn the conversation from an unpleasant topic, as Alice's eyes filled with tears.
"Just the other night," said Tommy.
"But Billy's been away two weeks."
"It was jes' afore he went-ed away."
"It wasn't long before Billy went," agreed Alice, nodding.
"I know when!" cried Tommy. "It was the night afore I felled and scraped my knee on the doorstep."
"Why, Tommy!" cried his sister, springing out of her chair. "Are you sure of that?"
"Yes'm. I be sure," declared Tommy. "I dreamed the cats were scratchin' me; an' then that very nex' mornin' the old doorstep scratched me!" cried the small boy.
Alice turned to her visitors, her face pale in her earnestness.
"Oh, girls!" she cried. "I remember that night of Tommy's dream very well. He hurt his knee on Wednesday—the morning following the burglary. Billy took Tommy into bed with him before midnight, and they slept together all night. Doesn't that prove that Billy was not out of the house on the night of the burglary? Doesn't it?"