CHAPTER THREEThat was all Lindsey was going to learn from poor Patterson, at least right then.
The kid was only out for a couple of seconds, if he was really out at all. While Linc Morris and Lindsey got Patterson propped up, his legs straight out in front of him and his back against the glass display case, Janice Chiu stayed in front to watch the store. Poor Patterson was pale and sweating. His breathing was shallow and his hands trembled visibly.
Classic shock—any tenderfoot scout would recognize the symptoms. Was it the stress of the burglary made worse by Lindsey’s accusation? Or was it the knowledge that his scheme had failed and he was in deep trouble?
It could be either.
Patterson stirred and looked around. He fumbled around, looking upset. “Where—where are my glasses?”
Lindsey
