She tore open the envelope, which fluttered to the ground, as she took out a piece of paper.
“Why, how funny!” exclaimed Miss Harrison. “There is nothing but a Haddonfield newspaper clipping, and—and—why it seems to be about you, Mr. Henderson,” she added. “Why—why!” she stammered. “How odd! Of course it must be some one else. Just listen,” and she read:
“‘During a raid on an alleged gambling house kept by Tony Belato in Dartwell, just outside of Haddonfield on Thursday night, a number of college students, believed to be from Boxer Hall, Fairview or Randall were captured. Several got away, and those who were locked up gave false names, it is believed. One young man, who stated that he was Sidney Henderson, fought the officers, and was not subdued until after a struggle. None of the college boys seemed to know him, but it was stated that he had lost heavily in playing poker. The prisoners were fined ten dollars each, and this morning were discharged by Judge Perkins with a warning.’”
There was silence for a moment following Miss Harrison’s reading of the clipping.
“What’s that?” cried Tom at last, and his words seemed to break the spell. “Arrested in a gambling raid—Sid Henderson? Of course it must be some one else! But who sent the clipping to you, Miss Harrison?”
“I don’t know,” was her answer, as she looked full at Sid. “It was a piece of impertinence, at any rate,” and she began to tear up the newspaper item. “Of course it wasn’t you, Mr. Henderson. I should not have read it. I don’t suppose you were within miles of the place where it happened. These newspaper reporters are so careless, sometimes. You weren’t there, were you?” she went on.
As they all remembered it afterward it seemed strange that Miss Harrison should so insist on her question, but, later, it was explained that her family, as well as herself, had an extraordinary abhorrence of any games of chance, since her brother had once been fleeced by gamblers, and there had been some disgrace attached to it.
“You weren’t there; were you?” repeated Miss Harrison, and her eyes were fastened on those of Sid.
His face was strangely white, and his hands trembled. His chums looked at him in surprise.
“I—I wasn’t arrested in any raid,” he said, and his voice was husky. The girl seemed to catch at the evasion.