“I’m sure Jack didn’t take the dress,” Mr. Hatfield declared. “As I recall, Mrs. Jones, I believe you said it disappeared some time ago.”
“That’s so! Before Jack came here! Land sakes, I guess we get so in the habit of blaming a boy, that we don’t give him the benefit of any doubt.”
In a gesture of kindness, she reached out and drew the boy to her. He resisted, but as her arm remained firm, finally allowed it to remain thrown around his shoulders.
“I’m fairly convinced Jack didn’t take the dress,” Mr. Hatfield resumed. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid I can’t say I think he isn’t hiding vital information. I believe Jack knows more about the affair than he is willing to tell.”
Mrs. Jones’ arm fell from the boy’s shoulder. Sternly, she regarded him.
“Jack, is that the truth?”
“Maybe!” The boy regarded her defiantly.
“Then you just tell Mr. Hatfield everything you know!”
“Wild horses can’t drag it from me! I’m no snitcher. I don’t help anyone who made it hard for me!”
“You little ninny!” Mrs. Jones exclaimed, losing patience. “I declare, I wonder if you have an ounce of sense. Now march into the house.”