“He’s got hisself into a leetle mite o’ trouble,” the stranger drawled; “leastways, mebbe he has.” He seemed to enjoy being mysterious.
So Tom was called. Roy came with him, and all who were in camp at the moment clustered about the scoutmaster’s tent. Mr. Ellsworth’s manner was one of perfect confidence in Tom and half-amusement at the stranger’s relish of his own authority.
“You don’t wish to see him privately, I suppose?”
“Na-o—leastways not ’less he does. Seems you was trespassing araound Five Oaks t’other day,” he said to Tom in his exasperating drawl, and with deliberate hesitation.
“Good heavens, man!” said Mr. Ellsworth, nettled. “You don’t mean to tell me this boy is charged with trespassing! Why, half a dozen of these boys accompanied Mrs. Temple and her daughter home—they were invited into the house.” He looked at the stranger, half angry and half amused. “Mrs. Temple and her daughter were our guests here. We might as well say they were trespassing!”
“Leastways they din’t take nuthin’.”
“What do you mean by that?” said the scoutmaster, sharply.
“Ye know a pin was missin’ thar?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Ellsworth, impatiently.
“An’ one o’ these youngsters was seen sneakin’—”