“How long must you stay here?”

“I don’t know.  As long as Judge Penfold sees fit, I suppose.”

“If only they could catch this John Stumpy.”

“I hope so—­ for other reasons than those you know, Kate.”

“Other reasons?”

“Yes; very important ones, too.  John Stumpy knew father well.  And he was mixed up in that—­ that miserable affair.”

“Oh, Roger, how do you know?”

“I heard him say so.  Besides, he dropped a letter that proved it.  I have the letter in my pocket now.  It’s the dying statement of one Nicholas Weaver—­”

“Nicholas Weaver!  He was a clerk with father!”

“So I thought.  Who Stumpy is, though, I don’t know.  Do you?”

“No; but his face I’m sure I’ve seen before.  Let me see the letter.  Have you read it?”

“No; I hadn’t time to spell it out, it is so badly written.  Maybe you can read it.”

“I’ll try,” replied Kate.  “Hand it over.”

I put my hand in my pocket to do so.  The statement was gone!

CHAPTER XI

 Aaron Woodward’s visit

Puzzled and dismayed, I made a rapid search of my clothes—­ first one pocket and then another.  It was useless.  Beyond a doubt the statement was nowhere about my person.

I was quite sure it had not been taken from me.  Strange as it may seem, neither Parsons nor Booth had searched me.  Perhaps they deemed it useless to take away the possessions of a poor country boy.  My jack-knife and other odds and ends were still in their accustomed places.

“It’s gone!” I gasped, when I was certain that such was a fact.

“Gone?” repeated Kate.

“Yes, gone, and I don’t know where.  They didn’t take it from me.  I must have lost it.”

“Oh, Roger, and it was so important!”

“I know it, Kate.  It must have dropped from my pocket down at the tool house.  Perhaps if I go down I can find it.”

“Go down?” she queried.

“Oh, I forgot I was a prisoner.”

“Never mind, Roger.  I’ll go down myself.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Not now.  I wouldn’t have been of this Stumpy only he came on me so suddenly.  I’ll go at once.”

“You’d better,” said a voice behind her.  “Your five minutes is up, Miss Kate.”  And Booth appeared at the head of the stairs and motioned her down.

“Good-by, Roger.  I’m so sorry to leave you here alone.”

“It’s not such a dreadful place,” I rejoined lightly.  “If you discover anything, let me know at once.”

“Be sure I will.”  And with this assurance Kate was gone.

I was as sorry for her as I was for myself.  I knew all she would have to face in public—­ the mean things people would say to her, the snubbing she would be called on to bear.

The loss of the statement rendered me doubly downhearted.  Oh, how much I had counted on it, assuring myself over and over again that it would surely clear my father’s name!