“I don’t know what to say. You may be right. Peter does cost me more.”
“And Carl is entitled to be treated as well as he.”
“I think I ought to speak to Mrs. Crawford about it. And, by the way, I nearly forgot to say that she charges Carl with taking money from her bureau drawer before he went away. It was a large sum, too—twenty-five dollars.”
“That is false!” exclaimed Gilbert, indignantly. “I am surprised that you should believe such a thing of your own son.”
“Mrs. Crawford says she has proof,” said the doctor, hesitating.
“Then what has he done with the money? I know that he has but thirty-seven cents with him at this time, and he only left home yesterday. If the money has really been taken, I think I know who took it.”
“Who?”
“Peter Cook. He looks mean enough for anything.”
“What right have you to speak so of Peter?”
“Because I caught him stoning a cat this morning. He would have killed the poor thing if I had not interfered. I consider that worse than taking money.”