“Well, there’s one thing about it,” said Justice, “and that is, if you didn’t set fire to it, you’d better streak it for home about as fast as you can and clear yourself up. Everybody thinks you did it and your running away made it look suspicious. Besides, one of your father’s men says he saw you coming out of the storehouse this afternoon. By the way, what were you doing in there?”
Absalom met his gaze unwaveringly. “Me? Why, I went in there to get my knife, that I’d left in there yesterday. I couldn’t go away without my knife, could I?” He pulled it from his pocket and gazed on it fondly,—an ugly old “toad stabber.”
“See here, you weren’t smoking any cigarettes in there, and dropped a lighted stub, perhaps?” asked Justice.
“No,” replied Absalom, “I wasn’t smokin’ to-day. I do sometimes, though,” he admitted.
“Well, you don’t seem to be the villain, after all,” said Justice, “and I’m mighty glad to hear it. So will a lot of people be. Things looked pretty bad for you this afternoon, Absalom.”
“Honest?” asked Absalom. “Do folks really think I set fire to it? What did pa say?”
Justice laughed. “What he isn’t going to do to you when he catches you won’t be worth doing,” he said.
Absalom began to look apprehensive. “I’m afraid to go back,” he said.
“What are you afraid of, if you didn’t do it?” asked Justice.
“Pa wouldn’t believe me,” said Absalom nervously.