"No, but somebody is being suspected," he shot back.
"Well, he did lose it, I have to admit that much," I said.
"And that's all you're ever going to admit, hey?" he said, all the while moving the stick around on the roof.
"You—bet—your—sweet—life, that's all I'm ever going to admit," I said.
"Bully for you," he said; "you're about the best little scout I ever knew—next to Skinny."
"I can stick up for a friend, that's one thing," I said.
"Through thick and thin?" he asked me; "in spite of circumstantial evidence?"
"I should worry about circumstantial evidence," I told him. "Why should I care about circumstantial evidence? What did circumstantial evidence ever do for me, I'd like to know?"
Then he began to laugh. Gee, I didn't know what he was laughing at.
"Nothing would shake you, huh?" he said.