“To be sure, you have some excuse, but you should remember the respect you owe to me.  Then you did not do it?”

“Certainly not, sir.”

“So it appears, Platt, that you have brought a false charge against your fellow-pupil,” said Mr. Smith, severely.  “I can conceive of nothing meaner.”

“Mr. Smith,” said Hector, “what right have you to say that the charge is false?  Is it the denial of your nephew?  If he took the wallet he would, of course, deny it.”

“So would you!” retorted Socrates.

“No one saw me conceal it,” said Hector, significantly.

Then Wilkins rose.

“Mr. Smith,” he said, “I have some evidence to offer.”

“Out with it, sir,” said the principal, angrily, for he was fighting against an iaward conviction that his nephew was really the guilty party.

“I was walking along the corridor about the time Platt speaks of Smith’s visit to Roscoe’s room, and I met your nephew walking in the opposite direction.  When I entered the room, Platt told me that, half-concealed by the closet door, he had seen Jim Smith enter and thrust the wallet into Roscoe’s pocket.  Soon after, you and Mrs. Smith came into the room, guided by your nephew, who let you know just where the wallet was hidden.  He had very good reasons for knowing,” added Wilkins.

If a look would have annihilated Wilkins, the look directed towards him by Jim Smith would have had that effect.

“It’s a conspiracy against me, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim, intent upon brazening it out.  “They’re all in league together.”

“The testimony of Wilkins doesn’t amount to much!” said Mr. Smith.  “He may have seen James in the corridor, but that is by no means a part of his complicity in this affair.”

“Just so!” said Jim, eagerly.

“Ben Platt’s evidence ought to count for something,” said Hector.  “He saw your nephew putting the wallet into the pocket of my pants.”

Socrates was clearly perplexed.  In spite of his partiality for his nephew, the case against him certainly looked very strong.

Hector, however, determined to make his defense even stronger.

“I would like to ask Platt,” he said, “at what time this took place?”

“At three o’clock.”

“How do you know it was three?” asked the principal, sharply.

“Because I heard the clock on the village church strike three.”

“I would like to ask another boy—­Frank Lewis—­if he heard the clock strike three?”

Lewis answered in the affirmative.

“Where were you at the time?”

“In the playground.”

“What were you doing?”

“Playing ball.”

“Was I in the game?”

“Yes.”

“How long had the game been going on?”

“Half an hour.”

“How long had the game been going on, do you know?”

“From half to three-quarters of an hour.”