“He is crazy!” thought Johnny.
“Ah!” thought Mr. Van Rasseulger, “can he see through the millstone?”
“Eric, your good name shall be cleared of all suspicion. Give me your hand!” exclaimed Mr. Lacelle. “I congratulate you, lad! I know who did the mischief.”
“Do you?” exclaimed the astonished boy.
“Yes, my friend,” answered the Frenchman, and darted from the room.
“Here’s a go!” cried Johnny, thrusting his hands into his pockets and striking an attitude; “he knows, and he hasn’t told us what he knows, and I think his nose ought to be pulled.”
“Do be still, Johnny,” said Eric, “it’s no time for jokes. Uncle John, what could he have meant?”
“I am totally in the dark,” replied his uncle.
“I wish Froll would come back,” murmured Johnny.
“I have it!” cried Eric, suddenly, rushing from the room, by the guard at the door, and after Mr. Lacelle.