Susan began to wring her hands.
“No, sir!” she gasped. “I didn’t know it was any harm! I thought Mr. Joel had been at it. Oh, sir, it wasn’t my fault!”
“What wasn’t your fault?” inquired Bernard crisply.
Susan turned, wide-eyed.
“If Mr. Harrison was sh-shot with it, sir!” she answered her older inquisitor.
“What made you think Mr. Joel had been at it?”
“Nothing, sir, except the butler mentioned he had been at it once before. Mr. Stimson was speaking of the way Mr. Harrison got mad at Mr. Joel for touching it, sir.”
“When did Stimson speak of that, Susan?”
“Oh, some time ago, sir. Only I remembered it this morning when I saw it had been moved.”