"I'll bet she is right, too, if Miss Betty is a girl of sense, and she is or your uncle wouldn't care for her. So the rivalry has been on for a long time--before you had that scare in Murderer's Hollow, probably?"
"Well, you have a fine ear for gossip, Gilbert, if you are not much of a detective. Let me see now," he went on, "if I have everything straight"; and with that he began to question me afresh about the robbery, and the money, and the shape it was in, and how and where Uncle Job lived, and about his business and love affair, and a thousand other things of which I could see no point whatever.
"You have not told me when the trial is to come off," he exclaimed, finally, "or isn't that decided yet?"
"Whew! but they are speedy! Let me see, the robbery happened eight days ago. That is hardly giving him time to turn around."
"That's what I think, but Mr. Seymour says it's the way, and that Uncle Job wishes it hurried," I answered.
"Yes; and it's as good a way as any. The sooner men are tried and afforded a chance to prove their innocence, or stand convicted, the more likely justice is to be done. Only time enough should be given to get together the evidence. More than that is a trick."
"Enough time hasn't been allowed Uncle Job," I answered, "for there's only three days more, and nothing has been done."
"I don't know. A good many things might happen in three days, Gilbert; so don't be too downhearted. Go back to town and see what more you can learn, and don't forget to spy out what Moth and the constable are doing. Then come here the second night from this, crammed with news, and I will be here to meet you. You are sure, though, that you have told me everything you have heard?" he added.
"Well, then, if that is all, give me your hand and I will help you to a ride to town."
On our way back he sought to cheer me up, but not with much success, for I could see no loophole by which Uncle Job could escape, so closely was the web drawn about him--unless, indeed, his good name should serve him with the jury, as he thought; but of this I had not much hope, so greatly did I fear Moth's misrepresentations and sarcasm of speech.
The next day, when on my way to visit Uncle Job, I met Blott as he was leaving the jail. Jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Uncle Job's cell, he remarked, in his slow way: