"I think we could make a pretty good guess at who is behind this
contemptible business," snarled Danny Grin, his face, for once,
darkened by a threatening frown.

"Who did it?" challenged Referee Tyndall. Dalzell opened his
mouth, but Prescott broke in sharply with the command:

"Be silent, Dan! Don't mention a name when you haven't proof."

"Can it possibly be anyone from Preston?" asked Hartwell anxiously.
"If it is, I beg you, Dalzell, to let me have the name---privately,
if need be. I'd spend the summer running down this thing."

"I know whom Dalzell has in mind, Hartwell," Dick rejoined. "It's
no one from within a good many miles of Preston, either. But
we have no right to make accusation without an iota of proof."

"Then you decline to allow the name to be furnished?" blurted
the referee.

"I refuse, sir, for the same reason that you would," Dick answered
coolly. "Only a coward, a knave or a fool will accuse another
person without some reasonable proof to offer. No great harm
has been done, anyway. The drag was found in time."

"Get your canoe out, Hartwell," ordered Mr. Tyndall. "This time,
when we launch them, we'll make sure that both craft are in good
order."