Isaac whimpered.
"If I own up to it will that save me?" he asked.
"Yes," assured Tony; "tell the truth."
"I took it," confessed Isaac. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry he's found out," muttered the stranger. Then he said in a louder tone, "I hope this'll be a warning. There's nothing so good for everyday wear as the truth. It'll wash and won't fade."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A REVELATION.
The little conference at Mr. Furbush's was over, and Mr. Morrison, rising, said slowly:
"I was very sorry to feel it my duty to take part in this matter. Let us forget it, and all be friends. Good-day, Mr. Furbush."