“The cat!” sputtered Mr. Bennett. “It’s likely a cat would do that, isn’t it? I never heard such nonsense.”
“You didn’t see the cat do it, of course,” admitted Father Blossom. “But neither did you see the boys. You only surmise. And a police complaint needs evidence to back it, Mr. Bennett.”
The carpenter scolded and raged another ten minutes, but in the end he went away muttering that he guessed he’d wait a few days before having the boys arrested. When the front door banged behind him, Bobby breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now I want to know all about this affair,” said Father Blossom gravely, and Bobby told him.
“We didn’t set the shop on fire, honestly we didn’t, Daddy,” he concluded. “We didn’t knock over anything. And I only touched the cat.”
“No, I don’t believe you set the place on fire, either,” said Father Blossom. “But remember after this, Bobby, that it is never right to go into a room or a shop or building that belongs to someone else when it is locked expressly to keep people out. You should have left the ball there and asked for it back when you could find Mr. Bennett. But then, boys don’t think of that when they are playing and I won’t blame you too severely for crawling through the window. But you made another mistake and one I think you must have known when you made it.”
Bobby looked at the floor. “I—I didn’t say anything ’bout the fire,” he faltered.
“You didn’t come straight to me when you heard Mr. Bennett was angry and accused you,” said Father Blossom. “It makes me feel bad to learn that my boy was afraid to tell me he was in trouble.”
This was too much for Bobby and he flung himself into his father’s lap and cried a little, even if he was seven and a half years old.
“I wanted to tell you, Daddy,” he insisted. “Honestly I did. But—but—the fellows——”