The Shark didn’t look up. “Hm-m! Thought he would.”
“So that’s why you didn’t try to chase him?”
“Partly. ’Nother reason was that I wanted to do some figuring.”
“On what?”
“Oh, don’t bother me!” snapped the Shark. “I’m right in the midst of things.”
Poke frowned. “You needn’t be so snippy. Sam and I have done some figuring, too, and we’ve been quicker about it than you. And we know—what we know.”
The Shark raised his eyes. “Umph! Don’t be too all-fired sure,” he counseled.
Poke took a step toward him. “See here, you owl! Our figuring has made us certain—morally certain, that is—that we know who threw that stone.”
Usually the gaze of the Shark was unwavering, but now he was blinking rapidly.
“Go slow, Poke,” said he. “Moral certainty doesn’t answer problems in mathematics.”