Penny was inclined to believe that Clem Davis had told a straight story for it coincided with her own theories. Always it had seemed to her that evidence pointing to his guilt had been entirely too plain. To corroborate her conclusions, she had brought from home the watch fob found at the Davis stable, hoping that he might identify it.
“That’s not mine,” he said promptly when she showed the article to him. “I never saw it before.”
Penny opened the tiny case, displaying the child’s picture. However, the man had no idea who the little boy might be.
“Mr. Davis,” she said quietly, replacing the watch fob in her pocket. “I believe in your innocence, and I want to help you. I am sure I can, providing you are willing to cooperate.”
“I’ve already told you about everything I know.”
“You’ve given me splendid information,” Penny praised. “What I want you to do is to talk with my father. He’ll probably ask you to repeat your story to the Grand Jury.”
“I’d be a fool to do that,” Clem Davis responded. “I can’t prove any of my statements. The Preston fire would be pinned on me, and the Hoods might try to harm my wife. Why, they ran off with a truck load of our melons the other night.”
“I know. But unless someone has the courage to speak out against the Hoods they’ll become bolder and do even more harm. Supposing you were promised absolute protection. Then would you go before the Grand Jury?”
“Nothing would give me more pleasure. But who can guarantee I’ll not be made to pay?”
“I think my father can,” Penny assured him. “Will you meet him here tomorrow night at this same hour?”