“You think,” repeated Crawford, scornfully, then turning to the others, he went on, “Who knows anything about Clark, anyhow? He only entered the school this year. Does anybody know where he came from?”
“I believe he only came to the city just before school opened. Isn’t that so, Freeman?” said one.
Freeman colored, and looked uncomfortable.
“Yes,” he said.
“Where’d he live before?” said Crawford.
“In—in Albany,” stammered Freeman, flushing uneasily.
Crawford looked at him sharply, then turned again to the others.
“I believe it was Clark,” he repeated, “and it just makes one more thing we’ve got to pay him off for. We’ve grounds enough now, Green, for doing what we were talking over the other night.”
Green hesitated, then said slowly, “I think we ought to have some proof that Clark is to blame for this, first.”
Crawford’s face darkened. He leaned over and whispered something in Green’s ear—something unpleasant evidently, for Green shrank, and said hastily, “Oh, well, if you’re so sure he did it, I’ll back you up, of course. If he did it, he deserves all he’ll get.”