“Guess you think I’m a regular old crab,” Sara remarked, turning toward Penny.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Penny answered. “I’m sure you have plenty to worry you.”
“I do! Since the papers published the bridge dynamiting story, our business has shrunk to almost nothing. Burt’s case is coming up for trial in about ten days. I don’t know how we’ll pay the lawyer. If Mr. DeWitt hadn’t put up bail, my brother still would be in jail.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t feel so discouraged,” Penny said cheerfully. “Burt will be cleared.”
“I wish I could think so. He’s innocent, but to prove it is another matter.”
“Can’t your brother provide an alibi? Where was he at the time of the dynamiting?”
“I don’t know,” Sara admitted, frowning. “Burt’s peculiar. I tried to talk things over with him, but he says it’s a disagreeable subject. He hasn’t told me where he was Friday night.”
Burt’s appearance in the doorway of the shed brought the conversation to an abrupt end. Before Penny could speak to him, a group of small boys ran along the bank some distance away.
“Saboteur! Saboteur!” they shouted jeeringly, pointing at Burt. One of the lads threw a clod of dirt which struck a moored rowboat.
“You see how it is!” Sara cried wrathfully.