"A jet b.u.t.ton exactly like those on the dress was found by police in Mr.

Hatfield's study," Brad contributed.

"My stars! Then you think the money was taken by someone who wore my dress?"

"Naturally, one wonders," Mr. Hatfield replied.

Mrs. Jones gazed searchingly at Jack.

"I didn't do it!" he said, almost fiercely. "Quit lookin' at me like that! I always get the blame for everything."

"I'm sure Jack didn't take the dress," Mr. Hatfield declared. "As I recall, Mrs. Jones, I believe you said it disappeared some time ago."

"That's so! Before Jack came here! Land sakes, I guess we get so in the habit of blaming a boy, that we don't give him the benefit of any doubt."

In a gesture of kindness, she reached out and drew the boy to her. He resisted, but as her arm remained firm, finally allowed it to remain thrown around his shoulders.

"I'm fairly convinced Jack didn't take the dress," Mr. Hatfield resumed.

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid I can't say I think he isn't hiding vital information. I believe Jack knows more about the affair than he is willing to tell."

Mrs. Jones' arm fell from the boy's shoulder. Sternly, she regarded him.

"Jack, is that the truth?"

"Maybe!" The boy regarded her defiantly.

"Then you just tell Mr. Hatfield everything you know!"

"Wild horses can't drag it from me! I'm no snitcher. I don't help anyone who made it hard for me!"

"You little ninny!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed, losing patience. "I declare, I wonder if you have an ounce of sense. Now march into the house."

"Yes'm," Jack muttered.

"Everyone come in," Mrs. Jones invited. "We'll thrash this out right here and now. If there's one thing I can't stand it's nonsense!"

The Cubs trooped into the warm kitchen, fairly overflowing the tiny room.

Mr. Hatfield, Babe, Chips and Fred found chairs. Dan perched himself on the corner of the wood box by the stove. The others stood.

"Jack, I'd try to switch a little sense into you, but I know now it doesn't do a mite of good," Mrs. Jones sighed. "Now what's wrong with you anyhow?"

"Nothin'."

"Then why don't you speak up and tell Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs what they want to know?"

"They turned me in!"

"I reckon it was mighty inconsiderate of 'em to give you another chance,"

the widow said, her brittle voice edged with sarcasm. "You've had a hard lot here. I've kept you chopping wood every day and helping with the housework. At night you've had to do your lessons."

"The work wasn't so hard," Jack muttered.

"You've been chained to the house-never could go away-"

"Aw, quit rubbin' it in," Jack pleaded. "I've liked it here. I'm willing to stay."

The widow regarded him steadily.

"You may be willing," she said, "but I don't want you any more."

Jack drew in his breath and for a moment could not reply.

"You-you're sending me back?" he finally stammered.

"Just as fast as I can send for Mr. Wentworth. I did the best I could for you, Jack. I needed a boy I could depend on that would help me with the work, and act like my own son. Well, you let me down. So I'll go on living here alone."

The words cut deep into Jack. "I'll do better," he promised. "Please don't send me back to the Inst.i.tute. I'll cut all the wood you want me to-honest I will. I won't take things out of the ice box again or run off so often. Only just once in a long while, when I get to feeling tight and mean inside. And I'll tell you ahead that I'm going-I promise!"

"You're promising a heap, Jack," the widow returned dryly. "Only trouble is, you've made a lot of 'em before you never kept."

"I never made any to you."

"Well, that's a fact. You have kept your word such as you've given."

"Then let me have another chance. Just one more!"

"Not unless you tell the truth about that black dress of mine."

"I never took it!" Jack said desperately. "Believe me, I never did!"

"But you know how it came to be in the hollow log?"

"Not for sure," Jack hedged.

"You could make a pretty shrewd guess."

"Maybe."

"Then suppose you come clean and tell the Cubs everything you know."

"Help 'em after they turned me in?"

"Did they really do you such a bad turn seeing to it that you were sent out here to my place?"

"No'm," Jack murmured. "I'm all mixed up. I don't know what to do-"

"I want you to stay with me always, Jack. You're a fine boy."

"You mean that? You ain't just handing me a line so's I'll do what you want?"