“I say he lies!” replied Bob, forgetting in his rage that Dick Langdon was to do all the talking.
“I know he is mistaken,” said Mr. Newton, in a low tone.
“Now, look here. I ain’t a-goin’ to have no sich work as that,” declared Mr. Stebbins. “If you’ve got anything to say, speak it out so’t we can all hear it. You’ve no business to be standin’ there whisperin’ to them vagabonds an’ givin’ ’em aid an’ counsel.”
“I am not giving them aid and counsel,” denied the officer, with some dignity. “They stand in no need of either. If I had known that these were the boys you wanted me to arrest, I shouldn’t have been fool enough to come up here.”
“Oh, I know you’re all ag’in me!” cried the old man, whose face was fairly black with rage. “I hain’t got a friend among the hull kit of you.”
“We’ll not stop to discuss that point,” said Mr. Newton. “What do you know about this affair, Dick? Did you camp in Mr. Stebbins’ barn last night?”
“I know all about it,” answered Dick, promptly and with emphasis.
There were two in that party who knew that these words contained a deeper meaning than the officer supposed, and there was a third who suspected it; for when Bob Howard suddenly recalled to mind the part he had set himself to perform, and began to look around for Benson, he found that that young gentleman had sought concealment in the rear of all the horsemen, so that he could listen unobserved.
But Bob was not to be balked in any such way as that. He seated himself on the bench, where he could hear every word that passed between Dick and the sheriff, and at the same time keep a sharp eye on Benson’s countenance.
“I know all about it, and I did sleep in Mr. Stebbins’ barn last night,” said Dick.