That was Mrs. Perry's testimony. Willy heard in the presence of all
the family; then when the question as to the whereabouts of the coat
was put to him, he made the same answer. He also repeated that Grandma
Perry had not given it to him.

"Don't you let me hear you tell that wicked lie again," said his
Grandma Stockton. She was nearly as much agitated as the boy. She did
not know what to do, and nobody else did.

Grandpa Perry came over with three sticks of twisted red and white
peppermint candy, and three of barley. He caught hold of Willy and
swung him on to his knee. He was a fleshy, jolly man.

"Now, sir," said he, "let's strike a bargain--I'll give you these six
whole sticks of candy for your supper, and you tell me what you did
with Grandpa's coat."

"I--didn't do--any"--Willy commenced between his painful sobs, but his
grandmother interrupted--"Hush! don't you ever say that again," said
she. "You did do something with it."

"I'll throw in a handful of raisins," said Mr. Perry. But it was of no
use.

"Well, if the little chap was mine," said Mrs. Perry finally, "I
should give him his supper and put him to bed, and see how he would
look at it in the morning."

"I think that would be the best way," chimed in aunt Annie eagerly.
"He's all tired out and hungry, and doesn't know what he does know--do