“Nothing,” Sam insisted; then recalled the Shark’s contention, and made amendment. “There was nothing, that is, except that Willy Reynolds figured it out that Orkney couldn’t have thrown a stone that smashed a window in our club-house. And the Shark—Willy, I mean—is a crank on mathematics. And we found a cap of Orkney’s——”
“One he’d been wearin’ that evenin’?”
“Well, nobody saw him wearing it—nobody saw him, for that matter; for he ducked and ran. And though a face showed outside of the window, the fellow who noticed it didn’t recognize it. But the cap belonged to Orkney.”
Lon did not appear to be deeply impressed.
“Thing like that depends on a lot of other things,” said he.
“But Orkney didn’t try to deny anything.”
“Oh, put it up to him, good and straight, did you?”
“Why—why, in a way.”
“Jesso! But you didn’t say, ‘Now, Orkney, what did you do this thing, and that thing, and the other thing for?’”
“Well, I hinted at things I was going to thrash him for, and——”