We have to think of that, and be proud of him, and wait." Again Bobbie clung to her Mother, and again only one word came to her, but now that word was "Daddy," and "Oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy!" again and again.
"Why didn't you tell me, Mammy ?" she asked presently.
"Are you going to tell the others ?" Mother asked.
"No." "Why ?" "Because--" "Exactly," said Mother; "so you understand why I didn't tell you.

We two must help each other to be brave." "Yes," said Bobbie; "Mother, will it make you more unhappy if you tell me all about it?
I want to understand." So then, sitting cuddled up close to her Mother, Bobbie heard "all about it." She heard how those men, who had asked to see Father on that remembered last night when the Engine was being mended, had come to arrest him, charging him with selling State secrets to the Russians--with being, in fact, a spy and a traitor.

She heard about the trial, and about the evidence--letters, found in Father's desk at the office, letters that convinced the jury that Father was guilty.
"Oh, how could they look at him and believe it!" cried Bobbie; "and how could ANY one do such a thing!" "SOMEONE did it," said Mother, "and all the evidence was against Father.
Those letters--" "Yes.

How did the letters get into his desk ?" "Someone put them there.

And the person who put them there was the person who was really guilty." "HE must be feeling pretty awful all this time," said Bobbie, thoughtfully.
"I don't believe he had any feelings," Mother said hotly; "he couldn't have done a thing like that if he had." "Perhaps he just shoved the letters into the desk to hide them when he thought he was going to be found out.