The red in Isaac’s face gave place to a deathly pallor, but no reply passed his lips.

“I don’t see what use all these questions are,” interrupted Mr. Furbush, testily.  “My son is not a prisoner on trial.”

“Well, if he isn’t,” replied the man, significantly, “it won’t hurt him to answer a few questions.  Now, young man, speak up.  Didn’t you circulate the story that I stole that gum?”

Isaac began to cry.

“And you did this notwithstanding the fact that I pulled you out of Duck Lake, thereby saving your life,” said the stranger, severely.  “Now I want to jog your memory a little and get you in the habit of telling the truth.  Shall I go on?” he added, turning to Mr. Furbush.

“Oh, I suppose so,” replied that individual, wearily.  “Make it as short as possible.”

“I stopped a few nights with you and this little chap you call Tony last fall,” continued the stranger.  “One night this Tony had a fine lot of gum, and he put it away careful like.  I forgot my pipe one morning, and went back to the camp for it.  The door was open, and I seen you taking Tony’s gum out of where he put it, and I dodged behind the camp and watched you and see you take it and put it in a holler tree—­a far-side of the path to the spring.”

He turned to young Morrison and continued: 

“Yesterday morning, when I got up at the camp, I looked in the tree and found there was a lot of gum.  So I shot at it, just to draw your attention to it.  How much gum was concealed there?”

“About fifty pounds,” replied Morrison.

“If you knew my son was doing as you claim he did, why did you not tell this other boy?” demanded Mr. Furbush.

“Because,” answered the stranger, “I didn’t go back to the camp again after I see this boy a-hiding it away in the tree, and the next time I see ’em was when I pulled ’em out of the lake.”

“Is that all?” asked Mr. Furbush.  “If it is, I’d like to ascertain the object of all these accusations and questions.  What proof have we that my son did this or that you didn’t do it?  The boy has his property back, and why not let the matter drop?  It looks to me like a trifling matter, anyway.”

The face of Isaac brightened a little at this, but when his eye met that of the stranger, he trembled again.

“I’ll tell you what the object of this is,” he said.  “This boy of yours made me out a thief; now I want to show it’s him and not me.  As for proof, I’ll leave it to him, and forty-five dollars worth of gum ain’t no trifling matter.”

Then he turned sharply to Isaac.

“Didn’t you take that gum yourself?” he asked.  “Remember, this is going to court unless I’m cleared of it.”

Isaac whimpered.

“If I own up to it will that save me?” he asked.

“Yes,” assured Tony; “tell the truth.”

“I took it,” confessed Isaac.  “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry he’s found out,” muttered the stranger.  Then he said in a louder tone, “I hope this’ll be a warning.  There’s nothing so good for everyday wear as the truth.  It’ll wash and won’t fade.”