The three friends went down to the porch, which was still deserted. Billy, who had cast a disgusted glance on the litter in the drawing-room in passing, sighed lugubriously, as he sank back into the rocking-chair.
“No more thrilling adventures by field and flood for me,” he boomed. “I have had my bellyful, all at once. Let the cobbler stick to his last, and let me stick to my chair. I got too confoundedly energetic, and I’m old enough to know better. I’ve messed up the place shockingly, which means so much extra work for the industrious Mrs. Dustin, whose amiable, but foolish husband got me into this idiotic scrape. You would have found that there was no gold in the place without my assistance; and, unfortunately, I’ve incurred a financial penalty for my misplaced intrusiveness--into the plastering--and when the repairs of Miss West’s ceiling shall have been accomplished, it will be my melancholy duty to foot the bill. Oh, misery!”
The others laughed with the unfortunate, who was now again restored to his usual good humor. But, presently, Saxe spoke in a puzzled voice:
“You really must have been mistaken, Billy, about having heard someone down below you, in the music-room.”
“I may possibly be a trifle languorous physically in some ways on occasion,” he retorted, “but I assure you that my ears are quick enough. I was not mistaken. I heard just what I told you I heard, and I saw, too.”
The others were unaware that Billy did not exaggerate the excellent quality of his hearing, and, in consequence, they found themselves at a loss. It was Roy, the suspicious, who finally voiced the idea that was bound to find lodgment in their minds. When he spoke, it was in a tone of conviction:
“Spying again,” he agreed. “We know that he’s capable of it.” He turned to Billy Walker, inquiringly.
“The fellow is undoubtedly open to suspicion, after what you caught him at the other day.” Billy admitted. “Equally of course, we haven’t a shred of evidence against him.”
“That doesn’t matter a bit, as long as we have the moral certainty,” Saxe argued. “But the real gist of the problem is: What on earth is the fellow up to, anyhow?”
“It’s just pure cussedness,” Roy asserted, his face hardening. “One look at him is enough to warn anyone that he’s spoiling for mischief. He’s a rotter, that’s all.”