s
not quite easy.

"In course it was," replied he, surlily. "I knows nothink about it."

Riddell, for a quiet, nervous boy, was shrewd for his age, and there was
something in Tom's constrained and uncomfortable manner as he made this
disclaimer that convinced him that after all the mysterious letter _had_
something in it.

It was a bold step to take, he knew, and it might end in a failure, but
he would chance it at any rate.

"You do know something about it, Tom!" said he, sternly, and with a
searching look at the young waterman.

Tom did! He didn't say so! Indeed he violently denied that he did, and
broke out into a state of most virtuous indignation.

"Well I ever, if that ain't a nice thing to say to a chap. I tell you,
I knows nothink about it. The idea! What 'ud I know anythink about it
for? I tell you you're out, governor. You're come to the wrong shop--
do you hear?"

Riddell did hear; and watching the boy's manner as he hurried out these
protests, he was satisfied that he was on the right tack.

It had never occurred to him before. Perhaps the culprit was Tom
himself; perhaps it was he who, for some reason of his own, had cut the
line and caused all the mischief.

If that were so, what a relief and what a satisfaction it would be!
Riddell felt that if Tom himself were the wrong-doer he could almost
embrace him, so great would be his joy at knowing that no Willoughby boy
was guilty of the crime. But it was too good a notion to be true, and
Tom soon dispelled it.

"I tell you," continued he, vehemently, but looking down so as to avoid
the captain's eye. "I tell you I aren't done it, there. It's no use
your trying to fix it on me. Do you suppose I wouldn't know if I'd done
it? You blame the right parties, governor, do you hear? I _ain't_ done
it."

"I never said you did," replied Riddell, feeling he had by this time got
the upper hand in the argument, "but you know who did."

"There you go. How do I know? I don't know, and I ain't done it."

"Do you mean to tell me," said Riddell, "the lines could have been cut
and you not know it? Don't you sleep in the boat-house?"

"In course I do--but I ain't done it, there!"

"Don't be a young fool, Tom," said Riddell, sternly. "What I want to
know is who did do it."

"How do you suppose I know?" demanded the boy.

"Who did do it?" again repeated Riddell.

"I don't know, there!" retorted Tom. "I never see his face."

"Then some one