“So would I,” Sam agreed gravely.
He had cause to repeat the statement in the next few days. Things went wrong about the Parker place with peculiar persistence. Valuable young trees were broken down; gates, supposed to be kept closed, were found open; Hannibal, for whose care Sam was responsible, was missing over night and came limping home in the morning in badly battered condition. And in each instance it appeared to be incumbent upon the son of the house to prove his innocence. It is an old rule of the books that there is much difficulty in establishing a negative proposition. Sam’s patience was sorely tried, but he kept his wits about him, remembered the demands of his situation, and did his best to win confidence by deserving it.
He had his suspicions, of course, that there was something more than mere coincidence in the succession of troubles. Also he had a theory as to their cause. In amateur fashion he undertook detective work. In other words, so far as he could, he maintained a close, if unobtrusive, watch upon the doings of Tom Orkney.
CHAPTER XI
THE CLUB GETS A CLUE
It was Friday evening, and the Safety First Club was in full session. Sam, Step and Poke were gossiping about school affairs, and with them was Herman Boyd, a new member and a brother junior. Willy Reynolds and Harry Walker, otherwise known as “Trojan,” a recently admitted classmate, were playing checkers in a corner.
The Shark, who was human enough to have his little affectations, pretended to care not at all for the game, holding it to be a poor and trifling substitute for chess; but it was to be observed that he was doing his best to win. Moreover, when he did win, he chuckled gleefully.
“Hew-ee! You ought to have known that last move was coming,” he told his opponent. “But you gave me the opening, and then I had you.”
Trojan Walker laughed. “I’d have known all about it if I could see around two corners at once as you do. Never mind, though! I’ll win yet. Set up your men, Shark.”
Poke strolled over to the players while they were ranging their pieces.
“Fellow who wears glasses like the Shark’s ought to be able to see everything,” he remarked idly. “All the same, Trojan, you’ll notice he isn’t making out much about Orkney’s schemes.”