"More'n a hundred robberies like that wouldn't make him poor. Why, down at the Run folks say you'd hardly miss what's been taken."
"Those who make that kind of talk are only shiftless people with never a dollar of their own, consequently they don't know the value of one," the old man cried, angrily. "It's all very well for a set of loafers who are mad with me because I wouldn't give them credit to say such things. Do you suppose I'd spend my time runnin' around the country huntin' for the thieves if I hadn't lost a power of money?"
"You'd be willin' to run pretty far if there was a nickel at the end of the road," Tim retorted, but before he could say anything more Teddy motioned for him to be silent.
"Are you goin' to tell me who the robbers are?" Uncle Nathan asked, in a wheedling tone, as he turned once more toward his nephew.
"I don't know the men whom I suspect, except by sight, but it's more than possible we may find out enough to warrant their arrest before the fair closes."
The old man insisted on knowing at once, and alternately coaxed and threatened, but all to no purpose.
Teddy positively refused to make a statement until he had more proof, and recognizing the fact that he might hurt his own cause by insisting, Uncle Nathan said, in a most affectionate tone:
"I must go now, Teddy, but I'll see you again before night. If you'll do all you can to help find them scoundrels I'll never say that you had anything to do with the crime."
"You'd no business to make any such talk, for you knew it was impossible for me to take any hand in it, even if I'd wanted to be a thief."
"There's a good deal of circumstantial evidence," the old man said, solemnly, as he turned to leave, "an' it stands you in hand to do all a boy can to clear your own skirts. I'm goin' to give you a chance, an' promise there won't be any arrest made to-day at all events."