target on his beach this morning and killed one of his prize guinea fowls. He is not sure, but he thinks that you may have been one of them. How about it?"
Bobby looked uncomprehending for a moment while he covertly studied Patrick. The man's air was apologetic; his accusation was evidently based upon suspicion rather than proof.
"I went crabbing with Bert Holliday this morning," said Bobby.
"Ah!" his father's face cleared, though he still maintained his stern tone. "I gave you strict orders, you remember, never to touch my revolver when I was not with you?"
"Yes, father."
"You never have touched it?"
"No." Bobby's tone was barely audible.
"Speak up! I can't hear you."
"No!" snapped Bobby.
"Don't act that way. I am not accusing you of anything. I merely wish to know the truth." Mr. Carter turned to Patrick, who
