Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web - Volume 1 by Thomas J. Prestopnik Page A

responsible for–”
    “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Nicholas assured him, placing his hands on Maynard’s shoulders. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve got to believe me.”
    “I believe you, Nicholas. You know I do.”
    Clay Brindle ordered the shed door opened and several oil lamps placed within. Nicholas was invited to look inside and see the evidence for himself. His heart raced when he saw the piled sacks of flour. Ned’s pouch of silver half-pieces sat on top of a straw bundle. Nicholas backed out of the shed, shaking his head.
    “We found this just before we tracked you down at the Water Barrel,” Constable Brindle said. “Can you explain how those goods found their way here, Nicholas?”
    “No, I can’t,” he softly said.
    “And can you tell me why the button from your jacket was sitting on the floor near the orders that had been ransacked?”
    “I can’t explain that either, Clay.” His words sounded heavy and lifeless. “I only can say that I didn’t commit this crime.”
    Clay Brindle sighed, throwing a glance at Maynard and Ned. Neither uttered a word. Arthur Weeks stood back in the shadows. The chirping crickets in the rustling grass and the sputtering torch flames were the only sounds audible for the next few moments. The constable rubbed his neck and then looked at Nicholas.
    “There’s a lot to sort through, Nicholas. We’ll have to go over it detail by detail to get to the truth. You say you’re innocent, and you’re allowed that privilege, but...” Clay kicked the toe of his boot into the dirt. “Since there’s conflicting testimony and all the evidence points to you, I’ll have to take you to the lockup.”
    Before Nicholas could speak, Maynard protested. “Clay, you can’t do this!”
    “I’m sorry, Maynard, but legally I have no choice.”
    “Then I’m coming with you.”
    “That’s fine.”
    Nicholas held up a hand, appreciating Maynard’s concern but not wanting to upset him. “It’s all right, Maynard. The constable is just doing what he has to.” He turned to Ned Adams with a pained expression. “I wish I could prove I’m innocent, Ned.”
    “I wish you could, too.”
    The constable tapped Ned on the arm. “I’ll need a list of everything that was stolen before you can take the goods back to the gristmill. Just in case there’s a trial.”
    “I understand.”
    “You can do that now while I take Nicholas to the lockup or wait until morning.”
    “I’ll start now, if it’s okay with you, Maynard.”
    “Fine,” he muttered.
    “I’ll send someone to fetch Dooley Kramer so he can bring back a horse and cart.”
    The constable nodded. “All right.” He turned to Nicholas, clearing his throat. “I’ll need to keep your jacket, too, Nicholas, after we get to the village hall. Also for evidence.” He tried to sound as gentle as he could with his next few words. “I guess we better get moving now. It’s time.”
    With those words, Nicholas realized the magnitude of the trouble he was about to face. With those simple words, all his new-found dreams of travel and adventure disintegrated before his eyes like piles of sand upon a wave-tossed shoreline. The unfairness of it all tied his stomach in knots. The lies of Arthur Weeks enraged him until his head hurt. The slow walk to the lockup with Constable Brindle would end everything he had longed for. What would his friends think of him now? What would Katherine think? His world was falling apart.
    “Can I grab another jacket, Clay, since you plan to take the one I’m wearing?”
    “Sure, Nicholas,” he said, cracking a kindly smile. “I’ll let you do that.”
    Nicholas nodded in gratitude and walked away from the shed, making his way around the side of the cottage as the other men followed. He rounded the corner to the front, recalling sitting on Maynard’s porch steps only five days ago and discussing his future plans. That rush of excitement had now turned into a dull ache in