“Oh! then you got a chance to talk with Fred after the game, did you?” he ventured to say, in a queer sort of way. “How did Fred act then, Jack?”
“Well, I must say he didn’t impress me as being over-enthusiastic,” admitted Jack. “You see, he had done his whole duty in the heat of action, and after he had a chance to cool off and realize what he had lost, he may have felt a touch of remorse, for he certainly does love that poor mother of his a heap. I can understand just how he must be having a terrible struggle in his mind as to what is the right course for him to pursue.”
At that Toby gave a snort that plainly told how he was beginning to doubt certain things in which he had hitherto fully believed.
“Now, looky here, Jack,” he started to say good-humoredly, “don’t you reckon that you might have been mistaken in thinking poor Fred was dickering with some of those men to throw the game, so they could make big money out of if? Why, after all, perhaps his looking so dismal comes from his feeling so bad about his mother. We ought to give him the benefit of the doubt, I say.”
“I sometimes feel that way myself, Toby, don’t you know?” acknowledged Jack in his usual frank fashion. “And yet when I consider the conditions, and remember how suspiciously Fred acted with that sporty-looking gentleman, I find myself owning up that it looks bad for the boy. But at any rate he succeeded in fighting his own battle, and winning a victory over his temptation.”
“But, Jack, I’m afraid he’s bound to have to go through the whole business again,” interposed Steve.
“Do you know I more than half suspected you had got wind of something new in the affair, Steve,” Jack told him. “I could see how your eyes glistened as you listened to what Toby here was saying; and once or twice you opened your mouth to interrupt him, but thought better of it. Now tell us what it means, Steve.”
“For one thing, that man has been at Fred again,” asserted the other, positively.
“Do you know this for a certainty?” Jack asked.
“Why, I saw them talking, I tell you,” explained Steve, persistently. “This is how it came about. You see, yesterday, as Toby here couldn’t go fishing with me I started off alone, taking my bait pail and rod along, and bent on getting a mess of perch at a favorite old fishin’ hole I knew along the shore of the lake about a mile or so from town.”