“I did not do it, and did not know anything about it till the explosion took place.”
“They all say you must have done it. Waddie don’t deny that he had a hand in it; but he says you planned the whole thing, and he gave you his revolver for doing it.”
“There is not a word of truth in it, mother.”
“The quarrymen saw you and Waddie near the mill wharf, just before the explosion. It was not till they had told their story that Waddie acknowledged he had anything to do with it. He says it was done by pulling a string; and everybody believes that boy hadn’t gumption enough to blow up the canal boat without blowing himself up with it. They say the thing was well done, and therefore you must have done it.”
This was flattering to my pride, disagreeable as the consequences threatened to be. People believed I was guilty because I had the reputation of being skilful in mechanical contrivances! But I was not anxious to rob Waddie of any of his honors in this affair.
“I have not done anything wrong, mother; and I am willing to take the consequences, whatever they are. I wish this was the only thing we had to fear,” I said, dreading the effect upon her of the intelligence I had to communicate in regard to my father.
“Why, what else have we to fear?” asked she, with an expression of alarm. “Where is your father?”
“He has gone up to Hitaca in the steamer.”
“What has he gone up there for?”
“He is in charge of the engine of the Ruoara.”