“No matter for that; I am revenged,” added Waddie, coolly. “I only said that Wolf showed me how to do it, and pulled the string when all was ready.”
“That’s enough,” replied the father.
I understood the magnate of Centreport well enough to comprehend his position. He was quite willing to pay a couple of thousand dollars for the destruction of the canal boat; but he was very loath to have the Centreporters believe, what was literally the truth, that Waddie Wimpleton was the worst and most evil-disposed boy in the whole town. While he did not attempt to discipline and control his vicious heir, he was exceedingly jealous of the youth’s reputation. He wished to have me confess that I had had a finger in this pie of mischief. My character stood high in town, for I had tried to behave like a gentleman on all occasions. If I shared the blame with the colonel’s hopeful, he was willing to pay all costs and damages. I really believe, if I could have assumed the entire odium of the wicked deed, the magnate would have been willing to pay for the boat, and give me a thousand dollars besides. In fact, I knew of one instance in which a boy of bad habits had been indirectly paid for taking upon his own shoulders the blame that belonged upon Waddie’s.
“I had nothing at all to do with blowing up the canal boat, Colonel Wimpleton,” I replied. “I knew nothing about it till the explosion took place.”
“You deny it—do you?” demanded the magnate, sharply.
“I do, sir; I had nothing to do with it.”
“How dare you lie to me? As Waddie was concerned in the affair, I don’t mind paying for the boat, and I suppose that will be the end of the scrape; but I know my boy wouldn’t do such a thing without some help.”
“I didn’t help him,” I protested, warmly.
“Didn’t you pull the string?” demanded Waddie, with the most unblushing effrontery.
“No, I did not.”