When the recital was finished he went into the north room and stood over the unconscious man.
"Fremont! Fremont! He did it! He did it!" Over and over again the accusing words came from the white lips.
Nestor turned and looked keenly at the despairing boy at his side.
Then he stooped over and examined the wound on the head.
"It is a hard proposition," he finally said.

"It appears to me that his mention of your name is more like an appeal for help than an accusation, however.

Jimmie," he went on, facing the boy, "you heard Fremont coming up the stairs ?" "Yes; he was whistling.

He couldn't make enough noise with his feet." "You followed him up here ?" "Yes," with a little grin.
"Why did you do that ?" "Well, I wanted to see if it was all right--his coming in here." "Very commendable," smiled Nestor.

"Do you think he would have attracted attention to himself by whistling if he had had no business here ?" "Anyway," observed Jimmie, "I followed him up.