Sitting down upon the bench where Jerrie had sat that day when Peterkin attacked her, the two young men who had been enemies all their lives, but who were now drawn together by a common sympathy and love for the same girl, talked the matter over again, each arriving at the same theory as the most probable one they could accept.
'Arthur, in a crazy fit, had secreted the diamonds, and Jerrie knew it, but possibly not where he had put them.

This accounted for her strange sickness when a child, while her finding them later on, added to other causes, would account for her sickness now.

Peterkin owns that he was blowing her up for something, and that he knocked the table down with his fist, but he swears he didn't touch her,' Tom said, repeating in substance all Peterkin had said to him in the train when shaking with fear of a _writ_.
'And do you still mean to keep silent with regard to Jerrie ?' Tom asked.
'Yes,' Harold replied; 'her name must not be mentioned in connection with the diamonds.

I can't have the slightest breath of suspicion touching Jerrie, _my sister_.' 'Sister be hanged!' Tom began savagely, then checked himself, and added with a sneering laugh: 'Don't try to deceive me, Hal, with your sister business.

You love Jerrie, and she loves you, and that is one reason why I hate you, or shall, when this miserable business is cleared up.