Part 31 (1/2)
”Who gave it to you?” again demanded Mr. Ma.s.sey.
”Why, it would be hard to say offhand,” the storekeeper had sufficient wit to reply.
”Oh, but Hopewell!” implored the druggist. ”Don't ye see what I am after? Stir yourself, man! Perhaps we are right on the trail of the thief--this is maybe a clue,” and he cast another glance at Nelson as though he feared the schoolmaster might try to slip out of the store if he did not watch him.
Nelson came forward to the counter. At first he had grown very red; now he was quite pale and the look of scorn and indignation he cast upon the druggist might have withered that person at a time of less excitement.
”I ran 'way up here the minute my wife gave me that gold piece, Hopewell,” Ma.s.sey continued. ”Don't you remember how you came by it?”
”He means, Mr. Drugg,” broke in Nelson, ”that he suspects you got it from me. Now tell him, if you please: Have I pa.s.sed a gold piece over your counter since the robbery--that piece, or any other?”
”Not--not to my knowledge, Mr. Haley,” the storekeeper said, shaking his head slowly.
”Oh, Nelson!” gasped Janice, coming nearer and touching his arm lightly.
The young man's hands were clenched. He had a temper and it nearly mastered him now. But he had learned to control himself. Otherwise he could never have been as successful as he was in handling his pupils.
His eyes darted lightning at the druggist; but the latter was too excited to realize Nelson Haley's mood.
”This fellow has been to the postmaster to try to discover if I bought my money-order the other day with gold coin; but the postmaster obeyed the rules of the Department and refused to answer. He and the other committeemen are doing every underhanded thing possible to injure me.
Cross Moore even tried to get into my rooms to search my trunk--but Mrs. Beaseley threatened him with a broom.
”It doesn't surprise me that Mr. Ma.s.sey should attempt in this way to find what he calls 'a clue.' The only clue he and his friends are looking for is something with which to connect me with the robbery.”
Janice's light touch on his arm again, stayed his wrathful words; but the druggist's freckled face glowed--red under the young man's gaze.
”Wal!” he grunted, shortly, ”we're bound to look after our own skins--not after yours, Mr. Haley.”
”I believe you!” exclaimed the schoolmaster in scorn, and turned away.
”But, say, Hopewell, ye ain't answered me yet,” went on Ma.s.sey, again addressing the storekeeper.
”Well--I couldn't say offhand----”
”Great goodness, Hopewell!” cried Ma.s.sey, pounding his fist upon the counter for emphasis, ”you're the most exasperating critter. If this--this---- If Mr. Haley didn't give you the coin, _who did_?”
”Why--I--I----”
Drugg was slow enough at best. Now he was indeed very irritating. He was not the man to allow anything he said to injure another, if he could help it.
”Le's see,” he continued; ”I've had that gold piece sev'ral days. I am sure, of course, that Mr. Haley did not give it to me. No. Come to think of it----”
”Well?” gasped Mr. Ma.s.sey.
”I _do_ remember the transaction, now. It--it was give me as an option on my violin,” said Hopewell Drugg, with growing confidence. ”Yes. I remember now all about it.”
”What's that? Yer fiddle, Hopewell?” put in Dexter. ”Ye ain't goin'
ter sell yer fiddle?”
”I must,” Hopewell said simply. ”I accepted that ten dollar gold piece and two five dollar bills, as a payment upon it.”
”Who from?” demanded Ma.s.sey, sticking to his text, and that only.