“Even then,” said Phoebe, “Toby’s good name will not be cleansed. Many people will say he escaped paying the penalty of his crime, but was really guilty. The evidence they have brought against him is very strong.”
“Cleverly argued, Phoebe. I see your point. We must not be content with whitewashing the young man; we must restore him to his friends as sweet and clean as before. So, after all, we can’t quite ignore the woman whose folly caused all the mischief; nor even your friend Dave Hunter, who obtained possession of the contents of the box and tried to throw the blame onto Toby in order to save one whom he loved.”
“That’s it, sir. I think that was Dave’s motive.”
“Well, the sooner we begin to burrow the sooner we shall unearth the truth. I want to see Sam Parsons, first of all.”
“I will send Don for him,” proposed Judith.
“If you please, Cousin.”
It was Saturday and Don chanced to be within hailing distance. He accepted the mission with joy and lost no time in running to the constable’s house.
“Hurry up, Sam,” he said: “The governor’s at our place and wants to see you.”
Sam sat down in his rocker.
“Now?” he inquired.