“Case shouldn’t have mentioned it, because we really don’t know, yet, whether it has been stolen or not,” Clay explained, “but the sum we miss now is two hundred dollars.”
The policeman whistled softly.
“Do you happen to have it with you, lad?” he asked, facing the stranger with accusing eyes.
“I never took it!” insisted the boy.
“Search him!” cried Case, who seemed determined to say and do exactly the wrong thing that night.
“He doesn’t look like a thief,” Clay suggested, glad to be able to say something in the dejected lad’s favor.
“Much you know what a thief looks like!” said the officer.
“I don’t believe he is a thief,” declared Alex. “I don’t believe he ever stole the diamonds!”
“We’ll pass it on to the judge,” grinned the policeman. “Many’s the innocent face with a black heart behind it. So I’ll be taking the boy to the sergeant, and asking you boys to come to the trial.”
A fierce dash of rain came against the cabin windows and a burst of thunder for an instant drowned all other sounds. When the quick shock of it was over the policeman was outside, pushing against the wind and rain with his prisoner.