But the robbery, to which he seemed an accessory, did not entirely obliterate another shock with which the gods had visited him. He had intended to ask permission to dive from the top of the dizzy ladder which would be held by sloping wires above a perilously small tank of water at the carnival, and failing to obtain permission he had intended to do it without permission. But now he could not do it. He had knocked down the spectacular ladder on which he had intended to climb up; for there probably would not be any carnival. Farrelton had always been too tame for Hervey and now he had, it seemed, killed the most promising diversion which the brief pre-school season offered. Of course, he had no intention of telling the authorities about his encounter with the young fellow of the Ford car. He could not give them a clew without incriminating himself. He made sure of this by certain questions casually propounded to his stepfather that evening at supper. “Well, I hope they catch the whole crew of them,” said Mr. Walton. “They’re potential murderers. If they had found the lame fireman there they would have killed him if necessary. That kind stops at nothing.” “Mr. Tonelson who was here about the apples this afternoon thinks there was only one man,” said Mrs. Walton. “And he thinks _he_ was an amateur.” “There were two of them anyway,” said her husband. “There was the one who sent in the alarm.” Hervey, eating his dessert, was all ears. “Ringing an alarm box isn’t--jiminies, a fellow that does that isn’t a criminal, is he?” he ventured. “He is if he’s working with a burglar,” said Mr. Walton. “He’s an accessory. You know what that is, don’t you?” “Like something you put on an automobile?” Hervey said. Mr. and Mrs. Walton laughed heartily. “He’s a confederate,” said Mr. Walton. “Well, I certainly hope they’re caught and sent to jail,” said Mrs. Walton, whose gentle voice and manner seemed to belie any unkind thought, even toward robbers. “To think the carnival was to raise money for the Children’s Home! It almost seems as if they had stolen the money from little waifs and crippled children. Why, there are two little blind tots in the Home.” Hervey did not like the sound of that; it made him feel uncomfortable, contemptible. “They might better have turned over the four hundred dollars to the Home,” said her practical husband. “Oh, they didn’t know,” said Mrs. Walton. “But it’s unspeakable.” “You never loiter around with any of that crowd down at Huyler’s or the lunch wagon, do you, Herve?” Mr. Walton asked suddenly. “Such a question!” his wife exclaimed in surprised reproof. “Well, I’m glad he doesn’t.” “Of course, he doesn’t,” said Mrs. Walton. “Anyway,” said Hervey, feeling very uncomfortable, and fearful lest he say too much, “I don’t see how a fel--a man that sends a false alarm is a--like a murderer. How do they know the burglar had anything to do with that?”