"It is nothing to do with any of us," said Amy, seating herself for a moment, and letting her hands fall in her lap. "It's just some news that made me feel sorry. Ware came up with the mail a little while ago, and he tells us that George Pollock has suddenly reappeared and is living down at his own place."
"They've arrested him!" cried Bob.
"Not yet; but they will. The sheriff has been notified. Of course, his friends warned him in time; but he won't go. Says he intends to stay."
"Then he'll go to jail."
"And to prison. What chance has a poor fellow like that without money or influence? All he has is his denial."
"Then he denies?" asked Bob eagerly.
"Says he knows nothing about Plant's killing. His wife died that same morning, and he went away because he could not stand it. That's his story; but the evidence is strong against him, poor fellow."
"Do you believe him?" asked Bob.
Amy swung her foot, pondering.
"No," she said at last. "I believe he killed Plant; and I believe he did right! Plant killed his wife and child, and took away all his property. That's what it amounted to."