“Excuse me, ma’am, but surely you do not believe that,” Fred managed to say in another minute; and his voice may have trembled a little with emotion; though his manner was as frank and fearless as ever, as he looked straight into the snappy black eyes of the angry old lady.

“Three more of the gems are gone, and they were here this morning, because I took them out in my hand, and counted them,” she declared, furiously; yet beginning to feel uncomfortable under his steady look.

“But why should you even think that I took them, Miss Muster?” he demanded.

“Because ­you are the only person besides myself who has been in this room the entire day.  Mammy has been sick in bed since nine o’clock; and Jake Stall did not put a foot inside the house to my personal knowledge,” but although she said this as if to signify that her mind was made up, Fred could detect a little hesitation.

She already began to realize the absurdity of the accusation.

“Stop and think, ma’am, and I’m sure your own sense will tell you that you are wronging me when you say that,” the boy argued, with the same positive air of conviction that had made his father declare he would make a good lawyer, if ever he felt inclined to study for the bar.

“In what way, boy?” Miss Muster faltered.

“Because in the first place you called me into your house of your own accord, when I was passing.  I wouldn’t have come, only that you said you were in some sort of trouble, and needed help.  Then, think again, Miss Muster ­you opened this door which had been shut all the time; you hurried into this room, and over to that stand.  You know, ma’am, I was never within six feet of that little bowl.  Right now I am half way between the table and the door.  My arms would have to be pretty long to reach over there, wouldn’t they now, Miss Muster?”

She saw his point.  And indeed, even before he clinched the fact in this ingenious way the old lady was ready to admit that she had been unwisely hasty in making that passionate accusation.

“I beg your pardon, Fred,” she hastened to say, holding out her hand, which he did not hesitate to take.  “I was entirely wrong, and acted from a foolish impulse when I found that, in spite of all my precautions, more of my opals had mysteriously disappeared.  You could not have taken them had you wanted to; and I do not believe you would touch them if you had a dozen chances.”

That was saying a good deal for Miss Muster; and Fred, who knew considerable about her sharp tongue, felt that he could hardly have been paid a higher compliment.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, smiling in a satisfied way.  “If you please, then, we’ll consider the thing closed.  But that doesn’t explain where the opals have gone to; does it?”

“Indeed, it does not,” she replied.  “I have been deeply stirred by this mystery; but Fred, believe me, it was not the value of the jewels one quarter so much as the shock given to my faith in human nature.  I believed that the boy had been tempted beyond his power of resistance.  Perhaps he wanted a certain sum of money for some purpose, and conceived the wicked idea that he could sell the stones, and get it that way.  Oh!  I would have gladly given him five, yes ten times their value, if only he had not given way to temptation.”

“But Miss Muster,” said Fred, quick to take advantage of his splendid opportunity; “you were just as sure, right now, that I was the thief; and yet how easy it was for me to prove my innocence.  Wouldn’t you be glad if I could do the same for my chum, Brist ­I mean Andy?”

“Indeed, I would, Fred,” she replied, warmly.  “Do that, and there will be a whole shelf of boys’ books come to your house, and an old woman’s blessing in the bargain.  But I’m afraid you’ll find it a harder task than clearing your own skirts.”

“But give me the chance, won’t you, please, ma’am?” Fred insisted.

“Do you want to speak now about it, Fred?” she asked, eagerly enough.

“Why, yes, if you don’t object, ma’am,” he replied.  “You know there’s an old saying that ’it’s best to strike while the iron is hot’.”

“And you think that I’m pretty warm just now; is that it?” she asked, smiling a little in a way that made her thin face look almost friendly to the boy’s imagination.

“Well, while we were on the subject I thought I’d like to call your attention to just one thing,” Fred continued, persistently.  “And after you’ve heard what I want to say, I think you’ll agree with me that Bris ­er, Andy, couldn’t well have been guilty of taking these last opals.  Why, he surely hasn’t been in your house this whole day, has he, Miss Muster?”

“N ­no, not that I know of, for a fact, Fred,” she said, slowly.

“You keep the doors locked, don’t you, ma’am, so Bristles, or any one else for that matter, couldn’t have come in this morning, after you counted those things?”

“Yes, the doors are always locked.  I am very particular about that.  When the grocer’s boy or the one from the butcher, come for orders, they wait in the kitchen while Mammy comes to me here, and we talk over what we need.”

“Did that happen this morning, ma’am?  Were both those boys inside here to-day?” Fred asked.

The old lady looked sharply at him when he said this.

“Ah! now I see in what direction your suspicions lie, Fred,” she remarked, her face lighting up.  “And if you can prove to my satisfaction that one of those boys took my opals, and they are returned to me, I will say nothing, do nothing, to prosecute the guilty one.  Perhaps I was foolish to leave the door of opportunity open; the temptation within their reach.  In that case the fault was partly mine.”

“But I haven’t accused anybody, ma’am; only I wondered whether one of those tradesmen’s boys could have done it,” Fred went on.  “I’m going to look them up right away, and if I can recover the opals, and make the thief confess before you, then that will end the affair, will it?”

“So far as he is concerned, it will,” the old lady answered; “but I shall never forgive myself for suspecting my niece’s son of such a thing.  Fred, do you suppose he would come to see me if you took him a message?”

“Who, Andrew?” exclaimed the delighted Fred.  “Why, I’m as sure of it as that I draw breath.  He’d almost fly here, he’d be that glad you believed him innocent.  Do you want me to tell him, ma’am?”

“Wait, let it go for a little while.  When I send you word, you may tell him all that has occurred here to-day, and how a silly old woman had her eyes opened to the truth by a clever boy.  Meanwhile, please do not say a word to any one, will you, Fred?”

He was a little disappointed, because it would have given him so much pleasure to carry the joyful news to Bristles; but then, a little more delay could not hurt.  And besides, it would give him a chance to look around, find out just what the habits of both the grocer’s and the butcher’s boy were, and possibly make the guilty one confess, on promise of immunity from punishment.

“I’ll promise to do just whatever you say, ma’am, though I hope for the sake of poor Bristles you won’t keep me waiting long,” he answered.

“Fred, shake hands with me again,” said the old maid, surveying him with kindling eyes.  “I take back a lot of the mean things I’ve been thinking about boys these few days.  There is something worth while in some of them.  My better nature told me so right along.  They’re not all bad.  I reckon now, you’d sooner do most anything than to break the fond heart of that fine little mother of yours; wouldn’t you, Fred?”

“Oh!  I haven’t always been above suspicion, ma’am,” Fred hastened to say, in confusion.  “I’m no better than the average fellow, and I’m afraid I haven’t always been just the boy I ought to be, either.  I suppose I’ve made her feel bad a lot of times.  But as to doing anything real wicked like stealing things ­the worst I ever did was to get in some neighbor’s orchard at night, when we had plenty of good apples at home.”

Miss Muster laughed at that frank admission, as though she thought it quite an original plea for the boy in general.

“Oh!  I understand all boys have failings like that,” she said; “and sensible people wouldn’t have them grow up like little saints.  But Fred, I’m sure you’ll never either as a boy, nor yet as a young man, do anything that would grieve your mother’s heart.  I’m ashamed of what I wrote my niece, and when I can muster up enough courage I’m going right over to her house, and explain.  It makes me feel that it’s worth while living, now that, through you, I’ve found that Andrew is innocent.”

The way she said that last word told Fred that she was near the breaking-down point, and he thought he had better leave.  He went away from that place with a heart that was considerably lighter than when he first started to pass the fence behind which the property of Miss Muster lay.  He had had a wonderful experience, and from that time on must feel differently toward the old maid, whom the boys of Riverport always looked upon as hateful.  She had shown him that, under the surface, she was a lovable woman after all, and possessed of a woman’s heart, somewhat starved it is true, but still there.