"That was Jimmie," said Bert eagerly.

"Well, I heard you call him Jimmie--that's all I know," said Mr.
Carford. "Bert was cutting a branch from a tree, and when I came up to
them I offered them a ride as far as I was going. They got in, and
Bert here was whittling away with his knife as he sat beside me. Yes,
that's the knife," said Mr. Carford, as the principal showed it to
him.

"I was making a ramrod for a toy spring gun I have," explained Bert.
"It shoots long sticks, like arrows, and I had lost one of my best
ones, so on the way home I cut another. Then just before Mr. Carford
gave us the ride, Jimmie came along and asked me to lend him my knife.
I said I would as soon as I had finished making my arrow. I did finish
it in the sled and I gave him my knife just before we got out."

Mr. Tetlow looked inquiringly at Mr. Carford, who nodded in answer.

"Yes," said the aged man, "that was the way of it. Bert did lend that
other boy--Jimmie he called him--his knife. I saw the two boys
separate and Jimmie carried off Bert's knife. But that's all I do
know. The snowball business I have nothing to do with."

"No, I suppose not," said the principal slowly. "I am sorry now that I
said what I did, Bert. But there still remains the question of how
your knife got on the steps. Do you think Jimmie had a hand in putting
the snowball there?"

"I don't know, Mr. Tetlow. I wouldn't like to say."