“Very well, sir,” said Tom, proudly.
“I know very well what you were up to last night.”
“I was at your fire, if you mean that, sir.”
“I believe,” said John Simpson, sternly, “that you were the incendiary.”
Tom started, in uncontrollable surprise.
“I believe that you set the barn on fire in order to be revenged upon me for discharging you from my employment.”
“Good Heavens, sir, what are you saying! You yourself attributed it to the man whom you let sleep in the barn.”
“I only did it to screen you. I didn’t want the son of my old comrade to be suspected of such a crime. I am willing that the matter should stand so.”
“But I am not,” said Tom, with spirit. “Your charge is a base falsehood. I can prove by my mother that I was fast asleep in my room for three hours before the fire. You know who set the fire better than I.”
“What do you mean?” gasped the rich man, turning pale.