But Toby, suddenly sobered, shook his head. “Never mind,” he muttered. “Ask him if you want to know. I guess he wouldn’t tell, though.” He laughed mirthlessly.
“That’s a cowardly trick,” said Arnold in disgust. “You make an accusation against a fellow and then refuse to follow it up. Whether Frank is a friend of yours or not, you certainly aren’t a friend to him. And you aren’t a friend to me, either, when you talk like that. If you weren’t a cad you’d come out and say what you mean.”
“Ask him,” said Toby doggedly.
“I will ask him!” blazed Arnold. “And if I was Frank I’d—I’d—”
“What?” demanded Toby. “Come back and steal my clothes this time, I suppose! You tell him I’m putting my money in the bank now where he can’t get it!”
“What! Look here, Toby Tucker, do you mean to tell me that you’re accusing Frank of stealing that money of yours? Are you plumb crazy?”
“No, it’s you who are crazy! You think so much of Frank that you believe anything he tells you. He couldn’t do anything wrong, according to your idea. Well, ask him where he got the quarter with the initials cut in it! And ask him where he got the dollar bill with the court-plaster on it! He thinks, because I haven’t said anything, that I don’t know. Well, I do know. I’ve got all the proof I need, and if I told fellows what I know—”
“Look here, Toby!” cried Arnold sternly. “Cut that out!”
“Oh, of course! Anything that Lamson does—”
“Leave Frank alone! Look after your own—your own conduct! Accusing a fellow like Frank of stealing! I never heard anything so rotten! Or so silly, either! Cut it out, I tell you!”