“Come into the office and we’ll tell you all about it,” Bob broke in. “It’s quite a long story.”
Leaving the horse to be taken care of by one of the men, Mr. Golden and Mr. Switzer followed Tom and the boys into the office, where a good fire was roaring in the stove.
“Now let’s have the story,” Mr. Golden smiled, as they removed their overcoats and sat down.
For some minutes Bob talked rapidly, telling them all that had happened. No one interrupted him, and when he had finished the sheriff, as if he could hold in no longer, exploded with:
“The dirty rascal. I never would have believed that Ben would do as mean a thing as that.”
“Nor I,” Mr. Golden agreed. “Of course I knew that he was pretty sore over losing that contract, but I did not think that he would poison my horses. He ought to be punished for that. I could overlook all his other tricks to try to hold us back, but he’s gone a bit too far,” and he shook his head gravely.
“But we’ve got to prove that he did it first,” Jack said as he put a big chunk of wood in the stove.
“And I’m afraid that will be a hard thing to do,” his father declared. “You see it’s against the law for a druggist to sell arsenic, and for that reason whoever sold it to him is not going to own up to it.”
“How about doing any more cutting on that strip?” Bob asked.
“I don’t think we’d better risk it,” his father answered after a moment’s thought. “It would probably end in a fight and it isn’t worth it. Court sits week after next and I’ll have the matter settled then.”