That was dreadful. They all looked aghast at one another. Was Willy lying—Willy!
"Didn't—give—it—to you—Sonny!" said Grandpa, feebly, and more slowly than ever.
"No, sir."
Grandma Stockton had been called quick-tempered when she was a girl, and she gave proof of it sometimes, even now in her gentle old age. She spoke very sternly and quickly: "Willy, we have had all of this nonsense that we want. Now you just speak right up an' tell the truth. What did you do with your grandfather's coat?"
"I didn't do anything with it," faltered Willy again. His lip was quivering.
"What?"
"I—didn't"—began the child again, then his sobs checked him. He crooked his little free arm, hid his face in the welcome curve, and cried in good earnest.
"Stop crying and tell me the truth," said Grandma pitilessly.
Willy again gasped out his one reply; he shook so that he could scarcely hold his berry pail. Aunt Annie took it out of his hand and set it on the table. Uncle Frank rose with a jerk. "I'll run over and get mother," said he, with an air that implied, "I'll soon settle this matter."
But the matter was very far from settled by Mrs. Perry's testimony. She only repeated what she had already told her daughter-in-law.