"What's the matter?" Could something terrible have happened to his father? Or to Andy? What awful thing could make his mother and Cathy look so sad? There were envelopes and letters on the table. His mother had been opening her mail. The bad news must have come in a letter, then.
"Is Grandma Martin sick again?" Jerry asked.
His mother sobbed, and Jerry couldn't remember ever seeing his mother cry. "How could you, Jerry? How could you do such a dreadful thing?"
"He didn't do it. I know he didn't to it!" cried Cathy. "Tell her you didn't do it, Jerry. Tell her it must be a mistake."
"To think that a son of mine would be a thief!" said Jerry's mother. And the face she turned toward him was full of hurt and disappointment. It tore Jerry inside.
"I haven't done anything. Anything wrong," he said.
"You stand there and tell me that you haven't been charging groceries at Bartlett's store for a month?"
"Sure I did but—"
"Oh, Jerry!" Cathy burst into tears.
"What did you do with the money?" demanded Jerry's mother. "Mischief can be forgiven but stealing is a crime. When I opened an envelope and found a bill for the month of April from Bartlett's store, I hoped against hope that there must be a mistake. But now you confess you've been deceiving me and charging the groceries that I gave you money to pay for. I never thought I would be so ashamed of you, Jerry Martin." The look she gave him was worse than a blow.