Dorothy started back as though Jack Popella had struck her.
It was not true! It could not be true! Joe never, never would do such a thing! Her face turned very white and she trembled violently. Even Jack Popella seemed alarmed at what he had done and stood regarding her with a strange mixture of bravado and sheepishness.
Tavia sprang forward, putting her arm about Dorothy and fixing blazing eyes upon the young Italian.
“How dare you say such a thing!” she gasped. “You know it is a horrible, an awful——”
But Dorothy rallied and pressed a hand close upon Tavia’s lips.
“Don’t, dear,” she pleaded faintly. “I am not quite through with him yet. Jack Popella,” she turned to the swarthy lad and her tone was strangely quiet and subdued, “tell me all you know. Won’t you, please?”
“I don’t know nothin’ much,” protested the Italian, abashed and sullen again. “I know that Joe set fire to the store and when the explosion came he got scared and run away. That’s all.”
“Enough to scare anybody, I should say,” murmured Tavia, but Dorothy took no notice of her.
“Why should Joe do a thing like that?” asked Dorothy, still in that strangely gentle tone. “He never was a bad boy, Jack. He must have had some reason.”
Popella was silent, but again his glance darted up and down the block as though seeking escape.