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Phoebe Daring
CHAPTER V
HOW PHOEBE INTERVIEWED THE LAWYER
Phoebe Daring returned home more mystified than ever in regard to the missing box. The girl was by nature logical and inquiring and aside from the interest she felt in the Fergusons the mystery appealed to her curiosity and aroused in her a disposition to investigate it on her own account. That day, however, there was no development in the affair. Mrs. Ritchie kept out of sight and aside from the gossip indulged in by the villagers concerning the discreditable scene at the bank the night before, the excitement incident to the loss of the precious blue box seemed to have subsided. Don and Becky reported that all the school children were talking about the lost box and that many absurd statements were made concerning its disappearance.
“I had to punch one of the fellows for saying that Judge Ferguson spent Mrs. Ritchie’s money and then committed suicide,” announced Don. “He took it back, afterward, and said that Kellogg robbed the judge for revenge. There may be some truth in that, for Kellogg paid his board bill the other day. Another kid said he dreamed it was Will Chandler, the postmaster, who cut a hole through the ceiling of the post office and so got into the judge’s cupboard. Nearly everybody in town is accused by somebody, they say, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that I stole the box myself.”
“I don’t believe there was any box,” muttered Becky. “Ol’ Mam Ritchie’s half crazy, an’ I guess she just imagined it.”
“Wake up, Beck,” said Don; “you’re dreaming.”
“That proves I’ve a brain,” retorted his sister. “No one can dream who hasn’t a brain; which is the reason, my poor Don, you never dream.”
“He snores, though,” declared Sue.
“I don’t!” cried Don indignantly.
“You snore like a pig; I’ve heard you.”
“Never!”
“I’ll leave it to Becky,” said Sue.
“If she sides with you, I’ll pinch her till she’s black-an’-blue,” promised Don angrily.
“I dare you,” said Becky, bristling at the threat.
“Now – now!” warned Phoebe; “there’ll be a fight in a minute, and some one will be sorry. Cool off, my dears, and don’t get excited over nothing. Have you got your lessons for to-morrow?”
At nine thirty next morning Janet Ferguson stopped at the house, as she had promised to do, and Phoebe put on her things and joined her friend on the way to town, to interview Mr. Holbrook.
“Any news?” asked Phoebe.
Janet shook her head.
“We haven’t heard from Mr. Spaythe since I saw you. Mother’s dreadfully nervous over the thing, which followed so soon after father’s death. I hope Mrs. Ritchie’s box will be found, for it would relieve us both of much anxiety.”
“I hope so, too,” replied Phoebe.
When they arrived at the well-known stairway leading to the offices which Judge Ferguson had occupied for so many years, Janet was rather shocked to find a showy new sign suspended above the entrance. It bore the words: “JOHN HOLBROOK, Attorney at Law,” and another but smaller tin sign was tacked to the door at the head of the stairs.
Phoebe knocked and a voice bade them enter. Mr. Holbrook was seated at a table with several law books spread open before him. But he sat in an easy attitude, smoking his cigarette, and both the girls decided the array of legal lore was intended to impress any clients who might chance to stray into the office.
“I am Miss Ferguson,” said Janet in stiff and formal tones. He bowed and tossed his cigarette through the open window, looking at Janet rather curiously and then turning to Phoebe. “Miss Daring, sir.”
He bowed again, very courteously, as he placed chairs for them. Somehow, they felt relieved by his polite manner. Neither had expected to find so young a man or one so handsome and well dressed and it occurred to Phoebe to wonder why Mr. Holbrook had selected this out-of-the-way corner, where he was wholly unknown, in which to practice law. Riverdale was normally an exceedingly quiet town and possessed few attractions for strangers.
Janet began the conversation.
“We have come to see you in regard to Toby Clark,” she said. “He was in my father’s employ for several years, first as office boy and then as clerk, and Judge Ferguson thought very highly of him and trusted him fully. Toby injured his foot a year ago and limps badly, but that doesn’t interfere much with his activity, and so we thought – we hoped – ”
She hesitated, here, because Mr. Holbrook was looking at her with an amused smile. But Phoebe helped her out.
“Toby is without employment, just now,” she explained, “and we believe it will be to your advantage to secure him as an assistant.”
“The young man has already applied to me,” said the lawyer. “I was obliged to decline his application.”
“I know,” said Phoebe; “but perhaps you did not realize his value. Toby is very popular in Riverdale and knows every one of Judge Ferguson’s former clients personally.”
“I do not need a clerk,” returned Mr. Holbrook, rather shortly.
“But you are a stranger here and you will pardon my saying that it is evident you wish to secure business, or you would not have opened a law office. Also you are anxious to succeed to Judge Ferguson’s practice, or you would not so promptly have rented the office he had occupied. Nothing will help you to succeed more than to employ Toby Clark, who was the judge’s old clerk and knew a good deal about his law business. Toby is as much a part of the outfit of this office as the furniture,” she added with a smile.
“I thank you for your consideration of my interests,” said Mr. Holbrook.
Phoebe flushed.
“I admit that we are more interested, for the moment, in Toby Clark,” she replied. “Like everyone else in Riverdale who knows the boy, we are fond of him, and so we want him to have the opportunity to continue his studies of the law. He is very poor, you know, and cannot afford to go to college just yet; so nothing would assist him more than for you to employ him, just as Judge Ferguson did.”
Mr. Holbrook drummed with his fingers on the table, in an absent way. He was evidently puzzled how to answer this fair pleader. Then he suddenly straightened up, sat back in his chair and faced the two girls frankly.
“I am, as you state, an entire stranger here,” said he, “and for that reason I must tell you something of myself or you will not understand my refusal to employ Toby Clark. I – ”
“Excuse me,” said Janet, rising; “we did not intend to force your confidence, sir. We thought that perhaps, when you were informed of the value of my father’s clerk, you might be glad to employ him, and we would like to have you do so; but having presented the case to the best of our ability we can only leave you to decide as you think best.”
“Sit down, please, Miss Ferguson,” he replied earnestly. “It is indeed to my advantage to make friends in Riverdale, rather than enemies, and as I am unable to employ Toby Clark you are likely to become annoyed by my refusal, unless you fully understand my reasons. Therefore I beg you will allow me to explain.”
Janet glanced at Phoebe, who had remained seated. Her friend nodded, so Janet sat down again. The truth was that Miss Daring was curious to hear Mr. Holbrook’s explanation.
“I’ve had my own way to make in the world,” began the young man, in a hesitating, uncertain tone, but gathering confidence as he proceeded. “There was no one to put me through college, so I worked my way – doing all sorts of disagreeable jobs to pay expenses. After I got my degree and was admitted to the bar I was without a dollar with which to begin the practice of law. Yet I had to make a start, somehow or other, and it occurred to me that a small town would be leas expensive to begin in than a city. During the past summer I worked hard. I don’t mind telling you that I tended a soda-fountain in St. Louis and remained on duty twelve hours a day. I earned an excellent salary, however, and by the first of October believed I had saved enough money to start me in business. Seeking a small and desirable town, I arrived in Riverdale and liked the place. While hesitating whether or not to make it my permanent location, Judge Ferguson died, and that decided me. I imagined I might find a good opening here by trying to fill his place. I rented these offices and paid a month’s rent in advance. I purchased this furniture and the law library from Mr. Spaythe, the executor, and partly paid for it in cash. My board at the hotel is paid for up to Saturday night, and I had some letterheads and cards printed and my signs painted. All this indicates me prosperous, but the cold fact, young ladies, is that I have at this moment exactly one dollar and fifteen cents in my pocket, and no idea where the next dollar is coming from. Absurd, isn’t it? And amusing, too, if we consider it philosophically. I’m putting up a good front, for a pauper, and I’m not at all dismayed, because I believe myself a good lawyer. I’ve an idea that something will occur to furnish me with a paying client in time to save the day. But you can readily understand that under such circumstances I cannot employ a clerk, even at a minimum salary. I must be my own office-boy and errand-boy until my living expenses are assured and I can see the week’s wage ahead for my assistant. And now, Miss Ferguson and Miss Daring, you have the bare facts in the case and I hope you will be able to forgive me for refusing your request.”
The girls had listened in some amazement, yet there was little in Mr. Holbrook’s ingenuous statement to cause surprise. Such a condition was easily understood and quite plausible in this aggressive age. But the story affected the two girls differently. Janet developed an admiration for the bold, masterful way in which this impecunious young fellow had established himself. Such a combination of audacity and courage could scarcely fail to lead him to success.
Phoebe, on the other hand, thought she detected a false note running through the smooth recital. It seemed to her that Mr. Holbrook had either invented the entire story on the spur of the moment or was holding something back – perhaps both – for reasons of his own. She did not doubt the main point of the story, that he was absolutely penniless and dependent upon the uncertainties of his law business for a living; but she felt sure he had not confided to them his actual history, or any important details of his past life. She reflected that this young fellow wore expensive clothes and that every detail of his apparel, from the patent-leather shoes to the white silk tie with its jeweled stick-pin, denoted extravagance rather than cautious economy, such as he had claimed he had practiced. A silk-lined overcoat hung upon a peg and beside it was a hat of better quality than the young men of Riverdale wore. A taste for expensive clothes might be a weakness with the lawyer, and while Phoebe hesitated to condemn him for the endeavor to present a prosperous appearance she could not help thinking he would have saved a good deal more money as soda-water clerk had he been content with more modest attire. Imagine dapper Mr. Holbrook a soda-water clerk! Phoebe was almost sure that was one of the inventions. Yet she, as well as Janet, admitted the frank and winning personality of the young lawyer and felt she knew and appreciated him better since listening to his story.
“Of course,” continued Holbrook, a little anxiously, “this confidence places me at a disadvantage in your eyes. If Riverdale knows me as you do I shall be ruined.”
“We shall respect your confidence, sir,” said Janet, less stiffly than before, “and we now fully understand why you cannot, at present, employ Toby Clark. Perhaps, by and by – ”
“If I succeed, I shall give Toby the first job in my office,” he promised earnestly.
“Thank you, sir. Come, Phoebe.”
But Phoebe again refused to stir. She was pondering something in her mind and presently gave it expression.
“Toby Clark,” said she, “injured his foot while endeavoring to serve the family fortunes of the Darings, so we are really under serious obligations to the boy. But he is so proud and shy, Mr. Holbrook, that were we to offer him assistance at this crisis in his affairs, he would be hurt and humiliated. And he would refuse to accept any help that savored of charity.”
Mr. Holbrook nodded, smiling at her.
“I understand that disposition, Miss Daring,” said he, “for I have similar qualities of independence myself.”
“Yet something must be done for Toby,” she continued, “or else the boy will lose all the advantages of his former association with Judge Ferguson and perhaps starve or freeze when the cold weather comes on. From your explanation, sir, and the promise you have just made to Miss Ferguson, I understand your sole reason for not employing Toby is the lack of money with which to pay his wages. Is that correct?”
“Entirely so, Miss Daring. I appreciate the advantages of having this young fellow with me, since he is so well acquainted hereabouts and is somewhat posted in Mr. Ferguson’s business affairs; but – ”
“Then,” said Phoebe, “we must organize a conspiracy, we three, and help Toby without his ever suspecting it. We Darings are not wealthy, Mr. Holbrook, but we have more means than we absolutely require and it will be a great pleasure to us to pay Toby Clark’s salary as your clerk until you become prosperous enough to pay it yourself. Judge Ferguson was not over-liberal in the matter of wages and gave Toby but five dollars a week in money; but he also gave him a wealth of kindly sympathy and much assistance in the study of law. I want you to hire Toby at the same wages – five dollars a week – and try to assist him at odd times as the judge did. No one but we three shall ever know how the wages are supplied, and especially must the secret be guarded from Toby. What do you say to this proposition, Mr. Holbrook?”
Janet was filled with admiration of this clever idea and looked appealingly at the young man. Mr. Holbrook flushed slightly, then frowned and began drumming on the table with his fingers again. Presently he looked up and asked:
“Will this arrangement be a source of satisfaction to you young ladies?”
“It will give us great pleasure,” declared Phoebe.
“And it will be splendid for Toby,” added Janet.
“Do you also realize that it is an assistance to me – that it will add to the false evidences of my prosperity?” inquired the young man.
“Oh, I was not considering you at all,” said Phoebe quickly, fearing he might refuse. “I was only thinking of Toby; but if you find any advantage in the arrangement I hope it will repay you for your kindness to our friend – and to ourselves.”
Mr. Holbrook smiled. Then he nodded cheerfully and replied:
“It would be very ungracious of me to say no, under such quaint conditions, and therefore we will consider the matter as settled, Miss Daring.”
“I will send you a check for twenty dollars, which will be four weeks’ wages for Toby, in advance,” she said. “And each month I will send you twenty more, until you notify me you are able to assume the obligation yourself.”
He shook his head, still smiling.
“Send me five dollars each week,” said he. “Otherwise, in my present circumstances, I might be tempted to spend Toby’s wages on myself.”
“Very well, if you prefer it so.” Then, half turning toward the door, she added: “I thank you, Mr. Holbrook. Your coöperation in this little conspiracy of mine has relieved me of a great anxiety; indeed, it will give pleasure to all who know Toby Clark and are interested in his welfare. I shall not forget that we owe you this kindness.”
He bowed rather gravely in acknowledgment of this pretty speech and then they heard hasty steps mounting the stairs and the door opened abruptly to admit Mr. Spaythe.
CHAPTER VI
HOW TOBY CAME TO GRIEF
The banker of Riverdale was perhaps the most important personage in the community, not even excepting Will Chandler. A man of considerable wealth and sterling character, Mr. Spaythe was greatly respected by high and low and was deemed reliable in any emergency. In character he was somewhat stern and unyielding and his sense of justice and honor was so strong that he was uncharitably bitter and harsh toward any delinquent in such matters. As an old friend of the late Judge Ferguson he had accepted the responsibilities of administering his estate and was engaged in fulfilling his duties with businesslike celerity and exactness when the unpleasant incident of Mrs. Ritchie’s missing box came up to annoy him. Mr. Ferguson’s affairs were in perfect order; Mr. Spaythe knew that the box had disappeared since his demise; but the affair required rigid investigation and the banker had undertaken to solve the mystery in his own way, without confiding in or consulting anybody.
Mr. Spaythe was usually so deliberate and unexcitable in demeanor that his sudden entrance and agitated manner made both the girls, who knew him well, gasp in astonishment. He seemed to be startled to find them in young Mr. Holbrook’s office and his red face took on a deeper glow as he stared first at one and then at the other.
“We were just going,” said Phoebe, understanding that Mr. Spaythe had come to see the lawyer, and then both the girls bowed and turned toward the door.
“One moment, please,” said the banker earnestly, as he held out an arm with a restraining gesture. “A most extraordinary thing has happened, in which you will doubtless be interested. Mrs. Ritchie has just had Toby Clark arrested for stealing her box!”
Phoebe sank into a chair, weak and trembling, and as she did so her eyes swept Mr. Holbrook’s face and noticed that it flushed scarlet. But the wave of color quickly receded and he turned a look of grave inquiry upon Mr. Spaythe.
“How absurd!” exclaimed Janet indignantly.
“Yes, it is absurd,” agreed the banker, in a nervous manner, “but it is quite serious, as well. I am sure Toby is innocent, but Mrs. Ritchie has employed Abner Kellogg as her counselor and Kellogg would delight in sending Toby to prison – if he can manage to do so.”
“That box must be found!” cried Phoebe.
Mr. Spaythe frowned.
“It has been found,” he rejoined bitterly.
“Where?”
“In a rubbish-heap at the back of Toby Clark’s shanty, down by the river. It is Mrs. Ritchie’s box, beyond doubt; I have seen it; the cover had been wrenched off and – it was empty.”
The two girls stared at one another in speechless amazement. Mr. Holbrook stood by his table, watching them curiously, but he did not seem to share their astonishment. Mr. Spaythe sat down in a chair and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.
“Who arrested Toby?” asked Janet.
“Parsons, the constable. The warrant was issued by Powell, a justice of the peace, on a sworn statement made by Mrs. Ritchie and Abner Kellogg.”
“And Sam Parsons – Toby’s friend – has put him in jail?”
“Yes; he was obliged to do that, you know.”
Phoebe was gradually recovering her composure.
“He can be bailed out, I suppose,” she suggested.
Mr. Spaythe turned to the lawyer.
“That is what I have come to see you about, Mr. Holbrook,” he said. “Since this remarkable development in the matter of the missing box, I shall be obliged to employ counsel. I would like to engage you to defend Toby Clark.”
The young man bowed.
“I am fortunate, sir, to have so important a case brought to me so early in my career,” he replied. “I will do my best for your protegè, I assure you.”
“Toby Clark is no protegè of mine,” declared the banker sternly. “But,” he added, more mildly, “he was Judge Ferguson’s protegè and I believe the boy incapable of this alleged theft. Therefore I propose he shall be properly defended. I will be personally responsible for your fee, Mr. Holbrook.”
“That is quite satisfactory to me, sir.”
“But about the bail,” cried Janet impatiently. “We cannot allow Toby to remain in that dreadful jail!”
“The county seat is at Bayport,” observed the lawyer. “We have no judge here who is authorized to accept bail for an accused criminal. Toby Clark must be taken to Bayport for a preliminary hearing, at which I will appear in his behalf, instruct him to plead not guilty and then demand his release on bail. If you will drive over with me, Mr. Spaythe, I’ve no doubt the bail can be easily arranged.”
“When will his case be tried?” asked the banker.
“The next term of court is the first week in December. The trial will of course be at Bayport.”
“What a long time to wait!” exclaimed Janet.
“Never mind; it will give us time to discover the real criminal,” said Phoebe decidedly. “In that event Toby’s case will never be tried.”
Mr. Spaythe nodded. Then he shifted uneasily in his chair a moment and asked:
“Ought we to employ a detective, Mr. Holbrook?”
“Of course!” said Phoebe. “That is the first thing to be done.”
“Pardon me, Miss Daring,” returned the lawyer seriously, “I think that should be reserved as our final resource. Riverdale is so small a place that the movements of every inhabitant may easily be traced. I believe I possess some small talent in the detective way myself – a good criminal lawyer ought to be a good detective, it is said – so if Clark is really innocent it ought not to be difficult to discover the real criminal.”
“I don’t like that ‘if,’ Mr. Holbrook,” said Phoebe resentfully.
The young man flushed again. It seemed to be one of his characteristics to change color, on occasion, and he was aware of this failing and evidently annoyed by it. At Phoebe’s remark he bit his lip and hesitated a moment. Then he replied with dignity:
“The ‘if’ was not intended to condemn your friend, Miss Daring. Even the law holds him innocent until he is proved guilty. But you must remember that Toby Clark is a perfect stranger to me and perhaps you will admit that circumstantial evidence is at present against him. The box was found on his premises, it seems, and he had the keys to this office at the time of Judge Ferguson’s death. Even before there was a rumor that anything was missing from the place I urged the boy to get rid of the key – merely as a matter of ordinary precaution.”
“I know that is true,” said Mr. Spaythe. “When Toby brought the key to me he said you had advised him to do so.”
“Still,” continued the lawyer reflectively, “the circumstantial evidence, while it might influence a jury, can have no effect upon those who know the boy’s character and believe in his honesty. The thing for me to do, if I undertake this case, is first to discover who knew of Mrs. Ritchie’s box – ”
“Why, everybody, nearly, knew of it,” said Phoebe. “She’s a queer old creature and, having used the judge for a banker, was constantly coming to him to deposit money or to get it from her box. I’ve no doubt she imagined it was a secret, but Mrs. Ritchie’s box was a matter of public gossip.”
“The next thing,” continued Mr. Holbrook quietly, “is to discover who were Toby Clark’s enemies.”
“I don’t believe he had one in Riverdale,” asserted Phoebe.
“The real criminal placed the rifled box on Toby Clark’s premises, where if found it would implicate him in the theft. No one but an enemy would have done that,” declared the young man, but he spoke argumentatively and there was not an earnest ring to his words. “Then,” he resumed, “we must watch and see what citizen has suddenly acquired money. There are no professional burglars in Riverdale, I imagine, so the thief will be unable to resist the temptation to use some of the stolen money. Really, Mr. Spaythe, the case is so simple that I am positive we shall have no need of a detective. Indeed, a detective in town would be quickly recognized and his very presence would defeat us by putting the criminal on guard. Let us proceed quietly to ferret out the mystery ourselves. I already feel reasonably certain of success and, when I have interviewed Toby Clark, which I shall do at once, he will perhaps be able to furnish us with a clew.”
This logical reasoning appealed to Mr. Spaythe and silenced even Phoebe’s objections. The girls left the office filled with horror of the cowardly charge brought against the poor boy they had so earnestly sought to aid.
On their way home Janet said:
“Of course this will prevent Mr. Holbrook from carrying out his agreement, for until Toby’s innocence is proved we cannot expect anyone to give him employment.”
“Why not?” asked Phoebe, who was trembling with nervous excitement. “Do you suppose anyone in Riverdale would doubt Toby’s honesty, just because that miserable Abner Kellogg and old Mrs. Ritchie accuse him? I think it would be a clever thing for Mr. Holbrook to take him into his office at once. It would make the lawyer lots of friends.”
“Perhaps that is true,” answered Janet doubtfully; “but Mr. Holbrook can’t be expected to believe in Toby as implicitly as we do. He may think it would injure his reputation to employ one accused of stealing. If he did, we could not blame him.”
Phoebe made no reply. Parting from Janet at the gate she ran into the house and straight to Cousin Judith’s room, where she first had a crying spell and then related the startling incidents of the morning.
The Little Mother was greatly shocked and quite as indignant as Phoebe had been. But she tried to comfort the girl by assuring her that Toby would be proved innocent.
“I think Mr. Spaythe was fortunate in securing Mr. Holbrook to defend Toby,” she added. “As this is his first case, it will be an opportunity for him to make a fine reputation in Riverdale by winning it, and as he seems a young man of ability and judgment we may depend on his doing his utmost and in the end clearing Toby triumphantly.”
That didn’t seem to reassure Phoebe.
“I think Mr. Holbrook has both ability and judgment,” she agreed. “He impressed me as being a very clever young man – too clever to be altogether trusted.”
“Oh, Phoebe!”
“He looks honest, and talks honest,” the girl went on, “but there’s something about him – his manner or his smile; I don’t know what – that makes me think he is not sincere.”
Judith looked at her thoughtfully.
“Nevertheless,” she rejoined, “it is to his interest to free his client, and from what you say he already believes that he can do so.”
“I didn’t like several things he said,” remarked Phoebe. “Once he said ‘if’ Toby was innocent – just as if there could be any doubt about it! – and he wouldn’t allow Mr. Spaythe to send to the city for a detective.”
“He may be wise in that,” affirmed Judith. “Doubtless he prefers to wait and see what the next few days develop. If he is able to solve the mystery himself it will be best to keep a detective out of it. The detective would be a stranger, you know, and at their best detectives are not infallible.”
Phoebe sighed.
“What a cruel thing for Mrs. Ritchie to do!” she said. “And just when Janet and I had settled Toby’s affairs so nicely and obtained for him just the position he would have liked best.”
The Little Mother smiled.
“Was I wrong to promise that we would pay Toby’s wages?” asked Phoebe quickly.
“No, dear; I would have agreed to your plan very willingly. But it was placing Mr. Holbrook in a rather delicate position, after his confession to you of his poverty, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps so,” said the girl. “But he took it very nicely. He seems gentlemanly and kind, Cousin Judith. I can’t say why I don’t wholly trust him. Janet thinks he acted splendidly and I imagine she is quite interested in her father’s successor. I don’t dislike him, myself, you know; only, until I’ve seen more of him, I can’t exactly trust him.”
“We cannot expect to find one able to fill Judge Ferguson’s place,” observed Judith regretfully.
There was great excitement among the young Darings when they came rushing home from school. The news of Toby’s arrest had spread like wildfire throughout the village and the inhabitants of Riverdale were at first generally indignant and inclined to think that Toby Clark was being unjustly persecuted. When the details were learned, however, and it was known that Mrs. Ritchie’s blue box, battered and empty, had been found just back of Toby’s shanty, there were some who began to believe in the boy’s guilt, while others stoutly defended him.
The following morning, at the request of Lawyer Kellogg, an officer was sent over from Bayport who, in conjunction with Sam Parsons, the Riverdale constable, made a thorough search of Toby Clark’s tumble-down house. It was so poor a place that the door was not even locked. There were but two rooms; that at the front, where Toby cooked and slept, and a little den at the back, which contained only a few bits of broken, cast-off furniture and some boxes and barrels. In this back room, concealed beneath a pile of old newspapers, the officers found a bundle of mortgages and other documents, the property of Mrs. Ritchie and which were of no value to anyone but their owner. The money and bonds, however, could not be found.
Armed with this fresh evidence against the prisoner the officers of the law went to the jail and urged the boy to confess.
“Tell the truth,” said Jardyce, the Bayport policeman, “and the chances are you’ll get a light sentence. It is foolish to continue to deny your guilt.”
Toby, quite broken and despondent, for he felt deeply the disgrace of his accusation and arrest, stared at the officer in wonder.
“Are you sure you found those papers in my room?” he asked.
“There is no doubt of it.”
“Then some one else put them there. Who do you suppose it could be, Sam?” inquired Toby, addressing Parsons, the constable, who had always been his friend.
“Can’t imagine,” was the gruff reply; then, noting Toby’s appealing look, he turned to the Bayport man and added: “There’s something crooked about this thing, Jardyce. I know, as well as I know anything, that Toby Clark had nothing to do with stealing that box.”
“In spite of the evidence?”
“Bother the evidence! You know, an’ I know, that lots of evidence is cooked up.”
“Yes, that’s true. I will say this,” continued the policeman, thoughtfully, “that after a long experience with crooks of all sorts, this boy don’t impress me as being guilty. But the evidence is mighty strong against him, you’ll admit, and the chances are a jury will convict him without argument. Too bad, if he’s innocent; but many an innocent man is serving time because he couldn’t explain away the circumstantial evidence against him.”
