"I shall. See if I don't. By the way, Tom, have they found out yet who closed those gates the night we ran into them?" asked Barbara carelessly. She and Tom had fallen behind the others.
"No-o-o-o," answered the boy, giving her a quick glance. Bab's face told him nothing.
"I suppose you haven't the slightest idea who could have done that?"
"How should I know anything about it?"
"I thought perhaps you might have done it; you are such a very smart young man," observed Barbara soberly. "Couldn't you even guess?"
"No. Could you?"
"I don't have to guess."
Tommy regarded her shrewdly.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't have to guess because I know. You closed those gates, Tom Presby. You thought it would be a good joke to fool Olive and Ruth and the rest of us. I'm not sure but that you thought you would be taking a proper revenge on poor me for sitting down on you that night at Stuarts' house. You came near causing the death of five girls with what you thought only a prank, young man," added Bab, in her most severe tone. "I should think you would be ashamed of yourself."