BILLY ANSWERS
Outside, the two men found several others formerly employed by Martin
and Hull ruefully inspecting the ruins.
These Mr. Browning questioned circumspectly but could gather no
information that might substantiate the theory that Billy Dobson had
started the fire.
Finally when they had just about given up hope of finding anything
there, one man came up and of his own accord volunteered the
information they had been looking for.
“Beg pardon, Mr. Hull,” the fellow said, touching his cap, “but it’s
been on my mind to tell you something ever since the fire happened.”
“All right, Higgins. Speak out,” said Mr. Hull, trying not to show
too great an interest.
“It’s only this. I was coming home pretty late--I’d been to the
doctor’s to get him for my little girl who is very sick, as you can
find out to be the truth by inquiring--and on my way I had to pass
the place. I saw some one sort of hangin’ around the buildings and I
got curious.”
“Yes, go on!” cried his two listeners together.
“Well, gentlemen, I came a little closer and I could easy see who the
feller was. It was Dobson, Mr. Hull, the feller who clerks over at
Mason’s store.”
A glance passed between Mr. Browning and Mr. Hull.
Then the latter said calmly:
“You’re sure you couldn’t have been mistaken, Higgins?”
“I’m so sure,” the man returned, “that I’d be willin’ to stake my
chances of a long and happy life on it. No, sir, there ain’t no
mistake about it, Mr. Hull. I made sure of my man!”
A crowd had gathered about the three men and listened curiously to
the conversation. Rapidly, as news always spreads in a crowd, the
word passed from mouth to mouth that Billy Dobson was suspected of
starting the fire.
There was a great amount of excitement, for in Greenville Billy
Dobson was a favorite. Everybody liked him and a great many people
believed in him. Still, there was, of course, always the possibility
of his being guilty.
Mr. Hull thanked the man Higgins and dismissed him. By a common
impulse Mr. Browning and his companion turned their steps in the
direction of Mason’s grocery store.
Some of the crowd followed, eager, curious, some convinced already
of the guilt of Billy Dobson, some stubbornly incredulous.
On the outskirts of this crowd came Betty, not of it, but with it
in spirit. She had caught enough of the rumor to know that it was
Billy Dobson who was suspected, and Betty was in a mood just then to
condemn almost any one.
It happened that as this crowd reached the corner upon which Mason’s
grocery store was situated Jane also reached it, coming from a
different direction.
Jane had been sent to the store for butter and eggs. Her mind was
still preoccupied with what they should do now that Mr. Powell was
incapacitated, and in this anxiety she had temporarily forgotten the
fire that had wiped out Martin and Hull’s.
Now she was shocked rudely from her unhappy reverie by sight of the
crowd. She saw Betty Browning on the edge of it, and her color flamed
high.
What did it all mean? That excited crowd! Betty Browning with the
white face and strained expression, so unlike the girl that Jane
remembered!
She guessed instantly that this strange sight had some bearing on
the calamity of the night before, but she had no way of knowing the
actual cause.
The crowd turned in at Mason’s store. So did Jane--a little in the
rear of it.
Billy Dobson was behind the counter waiting upon Mad Marion with all
the kindness and deference he would have given to one of the richest
patrons from Rose Hill.
Mr. Mason himself was in the rear of the store, stacking up fresh
groceries on the immaculate shelves.
Both men looked surprised as the crowd entered the store and Marion
turned, bobbing and smiling delightedly at something that promised
excitement.
Mr. Browning wasted no time. With Mr. Hull at his elbow he went
direct to the counter and himself addressed Billy Dobson. His eyes
were keen and cold as they rested on the frank blue eyes of the lad.
“Were you in the vicinity of Martin and Hull’s before the fire last
night?” he asked.
Jane had pushed her way through the crowd until she was close enough
to hear the question distinctly. She was so close to Betty that she
could hear the girl’s quick, indrawn breath as she waited for the
answer.
Jane’s eyes were fixed with a frightened look on Billy. What did it
all mean?
Billy looked surprised for a moment at the question.
“Why, yes, sir,” he said then, his eyes unwavering. “I believe I was.
In fact, I know I passed there last night.”
A sigh arose from the crowd, a queer sound that was almost like an
accusation.
Jane felt her heart beat fast. She did not yet fully understand,
but she did realize instinctively that Billy was in danger of some
sort--Billy who had been kind to her, who had stood as her friend
from the very first day in Greenville.
Mr. Hull spoke now. Something of the dull hopelessness of his manner
had gone and been replaced by anger.
“Will you kindly explain then,” he said, “what you were doing there
after twelve o’clock last night--it was that late, was it not?” he
interrupted himself to ask.
“Fully that,” said Billy, his gaze unflinching. “I should say nearer
half-past twelve.”
“Better be a little careful what you say, Billy,” cautioned Mr.
Mason, with an impulse of true friendliness toward the young man.
“Don’t talk too fast, lad. Better keep a guard on your tongue.”
“I have no reason to keep a guard on my tongue,” Billy retorted
quietly. “Now, Mr. Hull, if you have any more questions to ask me----”
“I have several,” said Mr. Hull dryly.
Mr. Browning’s keen, searching gaze never once left the lad’s face.
“The most important among them is,” Mr. Hull proceeded, “What were
you doing skulking about my place at a time that was nearer half-past
twelve than twelve o’clock last night?”
“I object to the word ‘skulking’,” Billy returned furiously. Jane
clenched her hands. She was proud of him. “If you will take that
back, I’ll answer your question--not otherwise!”
Mr. Hull was plainly annoyed. The crowd was growing restive. Betty,
close to Jane, gave an impatient shrug of her shoulders. Her pretty
mouth was set in a straight line.
Only Mr. Browning betrayed a slight change in his distrustful
attitude toward Billy Dobson. Jane thought she detected a faint gleam
of admiration in his eyes.
“All right, cut it out, then,” said Hull, snapping angrily at the
words. “Only answer my question. What were you doing near my place
late last night--just before the fire started?”
Again there was a murmur from the crowd. Billy’s glance swept it
wonderingly before he answered.
“I often walk for miles at night,” he said quietly. “It’s been a
habit with me for a long time, because that is when I get my good
ideas.”
There was a titter in the crowd. Some one laughed outright. Another
cried jeeringly:
“That’s a fine line, that is!”
“My lad, you’ll get nowhere with an explanation like that,” Mr. Hull
stated. But Mr. Browning cut him short, with a gesture. He turned to
Billy, his gaze never leaving the clerk’s face.
“What ideas do you mean?” he asked, not unkindly.
For the first time Billy’s glance wavered. When he spoke his tone was
almost sullen.
“You’ll laugh,” he said. “Everybody laughs. But since I see it’s
important for me to tell the truth right now----”
“_Very_ important!” broke in the grain dealer dryly.
“I’ll give you a chance to laugh,” finished Billy, looking not at Mr.
Hull but at Mr. Browning. “I’ve invented a couple of things that I
think are pretty good, and I’ve got the ideas for them when I’ve been
walking about at night. Now,” bitterly as the titter spread through
the crowd, “go ahead and laugh. Have a good one on me!”
Mr. Browning said nothing. He was looking very thoughtful. Hull was
irate.
“A pretty explanation that is!” he said. “I don’t mind telling you,
my boy, that it would stand about two half-seconds in a court of law.
Now suppose you tell me the real reason. And be quick about it. I’m
getting impatient!”
Billy gripped the edge of the counter and leaned forward.
“I’ve told you the truth of how I happened to pass your place last
night,” he said. “Though why I should have to answer your questions,
I don’t know--and I don’t care. If you don’t believe what I’ve told
you, then you know what you can do, don’t you?”
“I know what I will do,” said the irate grain dealer, shaking his
finger under Billy’s nose. “I’ll put you in jail!”
“But before you do it,” Billy’s voice was still calm but there was
a glint in his eye, “I’d be obliged if you’d tell me just what I’m
accused of!”
“I’ll tell you what you’re accused of!” Mr. Hull was shaking with
wrath, and he went on, though Mr. Browning tried vainly to stop him.
“You’re accused of deliberately setting fire to my property last
night in revenge for my having refused you a loan! That is what you
are accused of! Now, deny it, if you dare!”