“No, ma’am,” said Sam, and rose a bit hastily. “But I’m very much obliged for the information.”
Mrs. Benton followed him to the door. “You’re thanking me for very little,” she remarked. “But if it’ll be any help to you, in whatever you are after, I can add that the cap was taken out of the can somewhere between nine and ten o’clock that morning.”
And in the hour mentioned, as Sam was quite aware, Tom Orkney was fully accounted for, having been in his place in school!
Sam’s step was slow as he moved away from the house, and his brow was furrowed. Undeniably the case against Orkney was weakening. Equally the case for the Safety First Club was tottering.
There came to Sam unhappy recollections of talk about the chain of proofs and its various links, among them the cruelty to Little Perrine. Well, there was nothing for it but to go on with the inquiry he had begun.
Little Perrine, he was told, was very much better, and would be glad to see him. The convalescent was sitting up in bed, and was in excellent spirits.
“Hullo, Sam!” he called out gaily. “Gee, but it’s good of you to look me up! Sit down, and tell me all about how you pulled Tom Orkney and me out of the pond. The folks won’t tell me half enough.”
Sam drew a chair close to the bed.
“Oh, it isn’t much of a yarn,” he said modestly. “I happened to have a plank, so it was no trick at all.”
Little Perrine smiled. “That’s what you say! Doesn’t match the stories other people tell—and I guess they’re nearer the real truth. Everybody declares you did a star job. Funny, isn’t it, that I don’t remember anything about your part of it? One instant Tom Orkney was grabbing for me, and trying to drag me back, and the next—crash! There I was in the water, and Tom had jumped in after me, and was holding me up. Then everything was blurred, and there was a queer singing in my ears—and the next I knew, here I was, in bed. And then things got to whirling round, and I was going through it all again and again. Jiminy! but I bet I yelled like a good fellow!”