“Then what can we do?” she asked helplessly.
Eric laughed.
“You know how to put a poser,” said he. “I’ve wondered many times what could be done, but for my part I can’t do anything. I’m tied down to the bank so closely that I haven’t a minute to devote to Toby, much as I long to help him. One or two evenings I’ve stayed at home and talked with Toby, but he’s as much bewildered by the thing as we are. The fact is, something’s got to be discovered. We can talk till we’re blind, but unless we know more than we do now it won’t amount to anything. Here’s the situation: Toby didn’t take Mrs. Ritchie’s box, but who did?”
“Ah, that’s the question!” said Phoebe.
“Yes, that’s the question—that and nothing else—and unless we can find an answer to it poor Toby is likely to suffer for another’s crime.”
This conversation rendered the girl very unhappy. She had previously been content to leave Toby’s salvation to the direction of Mr. Spaythe and Mr. Holbrook and she had not been especially uneasy over the outcome of the affair. But Eric had destroyed her confidence in the lawyer, and Mr. Spaythe was so silent and reserved that it appeared he was not taking any active part in Toby’s defense. In fact, nothing was being done to save Toby, and Phoebe told Cousin Judith that she was getting very anxious about the poor boy’s fate.
“That is not strange, dear, for I have been anxious from the very beginning,” confessed Judith. “I believe that for some reason there is a conspiracy afoot to destroy Toby Clark, and that it is likely to succeed.”
“Then,” retorted Phoebe, with one of her sudden decisions, “we must organize a counter-conspiracy to save him. We’ve been idle long enough, Cousin Judith—too long, I fear—and it’s time for us to act.”
“To whom do you refer when you say ‘us’!” asked the Little Mother, smiling at the girl’s earnestness.
“To you and to myself, of course.”