"I tried not to, Ben, but what could I do? It was gone, and you the only stranger about the place."
"Wasn't there any one to think bad of but me? he said, so sorrowfully that Miss Celia made up her mind on the spot that he was as innocent of the theft as the kitten now biting her buttons, no other refreshment being offered.
"Nobody, for I know my girls well. Yet, eleven dollars are gone, and I cannot imagine where or how for both drawer and door are always locked, because my papers and valuables are in that room."
"What a lot! But how could I get it if it was locked up?" and Ben looked as if that question was unanswerable.
"Folks that can climb in at windows for a ball, can go the same way for money, and get it easy enough when they've only to pry open an old lock!"
Thorny's look and tone seemed to make plain to Ben all that they had been suspecting, and, being innocent, he was too perplexed and unhappy to defend himself. His eye went from one to the other, and, seeing doubt in both faces, his boyish heart sunk within him; for he could prove nothing, and his first impulse was to go away at once.
"I can't say any thing, only that I didn't take the money. You won't believe it, so I'd better go back where I come from. They weren't so kind, but they trusted me, and knew I wouldn't steal a cent. You may keep my money, and the kitty, too; I don't want 'em," and, snatching up his hat, Ben would gone straight away, if Thorny had not barred his passage.
"Come, now, don't be mad. Let's talk it over, and if I 'm wrong I'll take it all back and ask your pardon," he said, in a friendly tone, rather scared at the consequences of his first attempt, though as sure as ever that he was right.
"It would break my heart to have you go in that way, Ben. Stay at least till your innocence is proved, then no one can doubt what you say now."
"Don't see how it can be proved," answered Ben, appeased by her evident desire to trust him.