"Why didn't you take it when you saw it?" asked the town's mayor.
"Well," explained the other man, "we didn't fancy the blow-up. We went for Mulligan who knows about such things, and when we came back it was gone."
"You had better tell that story before the jury," and the sarcasm in Mr. Breslin's tone was unmistakable. "Suppose you tell them that a girl took what you were afraid to touch!"
Seeing that it was useless to argue with the mayor, they turned to leave.
"Wait," he said good naturedly, "I have my boat here. Take a ride with me. It's better than walking the dusty roads. Good evening," he said. "Mr. Fennelly," (to Mr. Starr,) "I hope you will regain your health by the time your son has to return to college!"
"Fennelly," said one officer to the other. "That's not the name, it was Starr! We're on the wrong trail." And they hurried away. Thus had Mr. Breslin saved the hermit from having to testify.
"Laurel," Cora said wearily, "let us go for a little walk. My nerves are all snarled up, and only a walk will unravel them. We will have time to go as far as the hemlocks before those girls and boys make up their minds to disband."
"But it is dark," objected Laurel.
"All the better; the quiet will be more effective. Come on, Laurel.
Surely you do not mind a dark evening."
"Oh, no indeed, Cora," she replied, winding her arm, about her friend's waist, "but I was thinking it might shower."