“Well,” said I, when Jerry paused, “I don’t see that you are in such a terrible scrape. How is General Mason going to prove that you stole his money?”
“Humph!” exclaimed Duke, "you had better ask ‘How is Jerry going to prove that he didn’t steal it?’ I have read somewhere," he continued, "that a trial at law is a lie direct. One says ‘You did,’ and the other says ‘I didn’t.’ In this case General Mason affirms that Jerry stole his money, and Jerry declares that he never saw it. We know that the general is mistaken, but how are we going to convince him of that fact while he has the evidence all on his side?"
“I know how,” exclaimed Herbert, excitedly. “We’ll find the real culprit, that’s the way we’ll do it; and I can put my hands on him in less than half an hour. That Tom Mason is the very fellow.”
“Where is your proof?” inquired the practical Duke.
“Who knows that the money was stolen at all?” asked Mark. “Perhaps it fell overboard.”
“Well, suppose it did. That doesn’t help the matter any, for how are we going to show that it fell overboard?”
“Oh, I am ruined, boys!” groaned Jerry, who had listened attentively to what Duke had to say. “I can’t prove that I did not steal the money, for there was no one near me. Mother was in the house, and I was alone with the skiff for at least ten minutes. My word will go for nothing against that of a man like General Mason. But, fellows, if that money was stolen at all, it was taken before I got back with my load of wood.”
“Did you see any one prowling around your house?” asked Duke. “Perhaps some of the Swamp Dragoons were up there hunting.”
“If they were, I did not see them. I was alone.”
Duke had shown us just how the matter stood, and our friend’s prospects began to look very dark indeed. No one could blame General Mason, for the evidence was strong against Jerry. We knew he was innocent, but we could not prove it, and he would spend the best years of his life in prison, and the real culprit would never be discovered.