"I don't have to tell you, Dave Porter; you know all about it."
"I tell you I don't—I haven't the least idea what you are driving at."
"Maybe you'll deny that you were at Leesburgh last week."
"Leesburgh?"
"Yes, Leesburgh, at Sampson's Hotel, and at the Arcade moving-picture and vaudeville show," and as he uttered the words Nat fairly glared into the face of our hero.
"I haven't been near Leesburgh for several months—not since a crowd of us went there to a football game."
"Humph! You expect me to believe that?"
"Believe it or not, it is true."
"You can't pull the wool over my eyes, Dave Porter! I know you were at Leesburgh last week Wednesday, you and Roger Morr. And I know you went to Sampson's Hotel and registered in my name and then cut up like a rowdy there, in the pool-room, and got thrown out, and I know you and Roger Morr went to the Arcade and made a fuss there, and got thrown out again, but not until you had given my name and the name of Gus Plum. Gus may forgive you for it, and think it only a joke. But I'll not do it, I can tell you that! You have got to write a letter to the
