Andy raised both arms as though wishing to make the searching operation as easy for the veteran as he could. Hugh noticed that in place of the frightened expression on his face there was now a little smile of utmost confidence.
“He is surely innocent!” Hugh was saying to himself as he saw this.
The pressing crowd gaped and watched. Perhaps some of them, remembering that in the past this same Andy Wallis has not enjoyed a very good reputation, may have indulged in the expectation that the boy might not be so innocent as he claimed.
All at once Major Anson held something up which he had just taken from one of the scout’s outer coat pockets. Hugh gave a gasp of dismay, for he saw that it was a pocketbook!
“Is this your property, sir?” demanded the veteran.
“What did I tell you?” almost shouted the little man, as he snatched the article from the other. “It’s my pocketbook as sure as anything; but see here, it doesn’t hold a single one of those thirty ten-dollar bills I told you about!”
A silence fell upon the crowd. Every eye seemed to be focussed upon the face of the wretched Andy, again white as chalk. He was staring hard at the pocketbook as though it might be an accusing finger pointed straight at him.
“I never took it!” Andy cried, almost choking with emotion. “I say I never saw it before this minute. Somebody must have put it in my pocket if you found it there. Oh, Hugh, don’t turn your head away from me; you’re all I’ve got to back me up! You believe me, say you do, won’t you?”
Hugh would have given a great deal to have felt absolutely sure concerning the boy’s innocence. The evidence seemed so strong, added to the past reputation of Andy, that he had to grit his teeth and with a great effort make up his mind to do all he could to solve the puzzle.
“Keep on searching, Major Anson, please,” he told the veteran. “You’ve found the husk, but without the kernel. See if you can discover a single one of those marked ten-dollar bills on the boy!”