I said, “No, we haven’t. We got away with it so far, lucky for us, but when the judge starts asking us questions to-morrow, we’ll have to tell. We can’t lie to him. If they ask us if we saw anybody at the shop we’ll have to say we did, and they can make us tell everything that happened if they want to.”
He said, “You didn’t tell them anything about seeing me?”
“No,” I told him, “because I thought they’d start thinking you set fire to the place and we know you didn’t.”
“My father thinks you did,” he said.
“Let him think so,” I told him; “we should worry. All I’m afraid of is that they’ll make us tell about meeting you here, and then they’ll say it’s funny you didn’t come out right away after the fire and say so yourself. We’ve got things fixed till to-morrow, but everything will come out then.”
He said, “You kids are a couple of bully little scouts. Come over here; I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t mind,” I said.
CHAPTER XX—A PROMISE
The rest of the scouts in the troop were working away, getting the street cleaned, and I guess they didn’t notice us. We went back across the field to our old railroad car, and I said, “Come ahead in; nobody’ll bother us in here.”
It smelled kind of smoky inside, I suppose on account of the fire. One of the doors was open so the smoke that blew in hadn’t gone out. It was kind of dusty and dingy, too. The old plush seats were all full of dust. But, anyway, we didn’t care, because it was our car and we liked it better than a Pullman car. It seemed awful quiet and nice in there; you know how it seems on Sunday afternoons.