She stared at him with terrified eyes.
"You know who I mean," he said. "If it wasn't him that did it I don't
know who it was."
"It wasn't," she jerked vehemently.
"You'd wish so, of course. But--Look here!--I'm pretty sure they met
again last night after--"
"Yes, they met, and Tom tried to fight him--"
"Ah--then!"
"And he's gone up at once, as soon as he heard that Tom was found, to
tell them all about it."
"Aw!"--decidedly crestfallen at the wind being taken out of his sails in
this fashion. "I--I thought--maybe I could help him--"
"Oh you did, did you?"--plucking up heart at sight of his discomfiture.
"And how were you going to help him?"
"If he's gone to make a clean breast of it it's all up, of course. If
he'd kept it to himself--"
"He might have run away, you mean?"
"Safest for him, maybe. Up above Coupee there's a stone with blood on
it. And I picked up this beside it," and he hauled out the button and
the bit of blue cloth he had found. "I thought, maybe if he knew about
these he might think it safest to go."
"Then every one would have the right to say he'd done it, and he didn't.
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