"No; he has not confessed anything of the sort. Indeed he seems to have carefully avoided doing so. In his letter to Uncle Carter he merely says, 'I can offer neither denial nor explanation of the facts alleged against me.' To me he only says, 'a stain is upon my name.' He nowhere says, 'I am guilty.'" "But, Sudie," said Billy, "if he a'n't guilty, why can't he offer either 'denial or explanation'?" "That I do not know; but I don't find it half as hard to believe that there may be good reasons for that, as to believe that an honorable man--a man whom we both know to be an honorable one--has done a dishonorable thing." "But, Sudie, why didn't Bob borrow the money of father or of me, if he honestly couldn't pay? He knew we would gladly lend it to him." "I'm glad you mentioned that. If Robert had wanted to swindle anybody, how much easier it would have been for him to write to you or Uncle Carter, saying he couldn't pay and asking you to take up his protested draft for him. He knew you would have done it, and he could then have accomplished his purpose without any exposure. Almost any excuse would have satisfied you or Uncle Carter, and so the thing would have gone on for years. Wouldn't he have done exactly that, Cousin Billy, if he had wanted to swindle anybody? Men don't often covet a bad name for its own sake." "Clearly, Sudie, I am getting the worst of this argument. You are a better sophist than I ever gave you credit for being. But it's hard to believe that black is white. I'll tell you what I'll do, though, Sudie. I'll do my very best to believe that there is some sort of faint possibility that facts a'n't facts, and hold myself, as nearly as I can, in readiness to believe that something may turn up in Bob's favor. If anything were to turn up I'd be as glad of it as anybody." "But I'm not satisfied with that, Cousin Billy." "What more do you ask, Sudie?" "That you shall hold yourself in readiness to help turn something up whenever an opportunity offers. Keep a sharp lookout for things which may possibly have a bearing upon this matter, and follow up any clue you may get. Won't you do that for my sake, Cousin Billy?" "I'd do anything for your sake, Sudie, and I'd give a hundred dollars for your faith." And so ended the conversation. Mr. Billy, it must be confessed, had done little toward the accomplishment of the task he had set himself. But as he himself put it: "What on earth was a fellow to do with a faith which made incontestable truths out of impossibilities, and scattered facts before it like a flock of partridges?" Mr. Billy fully appreciated the unreasonableness of Miss Sudie's logic, and yet, in spite of all, he could not help entertaining a sort of half hope that something would occur to vindicate Robert--a hope born of nothing more substantial than Miss Sudie's enthusiastic belief in her lover. CHAPTER XXVII. _Mr. Pagebrook Accepts an Invitation to Lunch and another Invitation._