“_On the level?_” he shouted. “You won’t say a word? You’ll be good scouts and keep your mouths shut?” “That shows how much you know about scouts,” I told him. “They never keep their mouths shut. But, anyway, we’ll do something better than that. _We’ll find out who set fire to the shop._ That’s the kind of things we’re supposed to do. If you say honest and true that you _didn’t_, we’ll say honest and true that we’ll _find out who did_. What do you suppose _we_ care about courts, and judges, and keeping our mouths shut? Gee whiz, there’s not much fun in that. You said last night we were good at tracking. All right, then, you leave it to us.” CHAPTER XXI—FOOTPRINTS “Now we’re in for it,” Westy said. “Now you put your foot in it.” “Put my foot in what?” I asked him. “A lot we can do between now and ten o’clock to-morrow morning,” he said; “even if it’s true that somebody set fire to the place. How are we going to solve the thing between now and tomorrow morning? He doesn’t take any stock in that and I don’t blame him. I bet he’ll beat it to-night.” “I bet he won’t,” I said. “He didn’t have money enough last night to buy us a couple of sodas. I’d like to know where he’ll beat it to.” “He’s good and sore at us,” Westy said. “I should worry,” I told him; “he knows we won’t tell till we’re asked. How could we promise to refuse to tell if the judge makes us? A lot you know about courts. The only court you know anything about is a tennis court. If we don’t answer questions we’ll get in trouble ourselves, and how is that going to help him? He didn’t do it, I could see that. Only he can’t afford to have people know he was there. He’s in bad with everybody. Probably now they’re trying to trace his movements yesterday. Even Mr. Ellsworth thinks he’s no good. We don’t know what they’re up to.” “Well, how do we know anybody set fire to the shop?” Westy wanted to know. “How do we know who left these match ends all around the floor of this car—and these cigarette butts?” You ought to have seen Westy stare. “I don’t smoke and you don’t smoke and none of us fellows smoke. Well then, how did these ends of cigarettes get here? Somebody was in this car last night. Don’t you suppose I noticed that before I asked him about how the fire started? Believe me, I’m not taking Charlie Slausen’s word for much. But I’ll tell you this, he isn’t as bad as people think he is. What do you suppose Chief O’Day cares who he sends to jail as long as his name gets into the newspapers? _‘Clever catch by Bridgeboro’s chief’_ that’s all _he’s_ thinking about. He isn’t smart enough to catch cold, even.” “Well, what are we going to do?” Westy asked me. “Now you’re talking,” I said. “First we’re going to go over and help the rest of the fellows. When we get through and they have all gone home, we’re coming back here. Then we’re going to start. We don’t want any one to know about this but ourselves.”