“Yes.”
“I know he had to have the hat blocked again after one wearing,” said Lance. “But we fellows weren’t in on that joke.”
“And not many but Bobby knew about it. You see, that tall hat—think of a stovepipe hat on a boy of seventeen!—made Purt the tallest person at the party. Bobby is cute, now I tell you,” Jess giggled. “She measured his height with the hat on his head and then went out to the gate and hung a flour bag of sand between the tall gateposts. She hung it so as to clear everybody else’s head, you see; and it was dark there by the gate.
“Out comes Purt, beauing Celia Prime home. The bag was on his side of the path and he got it good, now I tell you!”
“I know he got his new hat smashed,” agreed Lance.
“Great scheme,” chuckled Chet.
“But it was dangerous,” said Laura. “That sandbag was heavy. If any taller person had been coming in, or going out, rapidly, a crack on the crown from that bag would have done him harm.”
“All right, little Miss Fidget,” growled her brother. “But you see, it didn’t do any harm.”
“Only to Pretty’s hat,” laughed Lance. “But the question is, did Bobby set the fire?”
“Of course not!” declared Jess, promptly.