"What do you want?"
"I want you," said the bookseller, approaching.
"Tell him you're busy, and he'd better come again."
"I'm busy, I say," cried Coote; "come again."
"No, thank you," said Mr Webster, stepping before the boys. "Ah! good
day to you, Mr Heathcote; quite a stranger, sir. If you'll allow me, I
would like a word with your friend?"
"You know you'll get in a row, Webster, if you're seen up here," said
Heathcote. "All the shop fellows have to stop at the gate."
Having delivered which piece of friendly caution, Georgie walked on,
leaving Coote and the bookseller _tete-a-tete_.
"What do you want?" asked Coote.
"Come, none of your tricks with me, young fellow! I want that pencil-
case, there!"
"Pencil-case! What pencil-case? I've not got any pencil-case!" said
Coote.
Mr Webster had expected this; he would have been a trifle disappointed
had the criminal pleaded guilty at once.
"Do you suppose I didn't see you with it in your hand in my shop, sir,
this morning?" said he.
"But I didn't take it--I haven't got it--I wouldn't do such a thing,"
said Coote, beginning to feel very uncomfortable.
"You'd like me to suppose that some one else took it; wouldn't you?"
said Mr Webster, feeling so sure of his ground as quite to enjoy
himself.
"If you've lost it, somebody else did. I didn't," said the boy.
"Now, look here, young gentleman, that sort of thing may go down at home
or here in school, but it's no use trying it on with me. If you don't
choose to give me that pencil this moment, we'll see what a policeman
can do."
At this threat Coote turned pale. "Really, I never took it! You may
feel in my pockets. Oh, _please_ don't bring a policeman, Mr Webster!"
"What's your name?" demanded Mr Webster, ostentatiously producing a
pencil and paper.
"Coote--Arthur Dennis Coote," said the trembling boy.
"Address?"
"One, Richmond Villas, Richmond Road, G---."
"Very well, Mr Coote," said the stationer, folding up the paper and
putting it into his pocket-book; "unless you call on me before this time
to-morrow with the pencil, I'll have you locked up. Good morning."
Coote, with his heart in his shoes, watched the retreating figure till
it was lost to view, and then turned, bewildered and scared, to the
school.
Heathcote was waiting for him at the door.
"Well, what did the cad want?--what's the row, I say?" he demanded,
catching sight of the dazed face of his chum.
"Oh, Georgie, a most frightful row!" gasped Coote. "He says I've stolen
a pencil!"
"What, the one you were talking about?"
"Yes, the very one."
"I suppose you haven't, really?" asked Heathcote, with no false
delicacy.
"No, really I haven't--that is, if I have I-- Look here; do hunt my
pockets, will you, old man?"
Georgie obeyed, and every pocket of the unhappy Coote was successively
explored, without bringing to light the missing pencil.
"There," said the suspect, with a sigh of relief when the operation was
over, "I was positive I hadn't got it. He says I was the only one in
the shop, and that he missed it as soon as I had gone; but really and
truly I didn't take it; I never did such a thing in my life."
"Of course you didn't. He's a cad and has got a spite against us,
that's what it is. What's he going to do?"
"He says unless I take it to him by this time to-morrow, he'll send a
policeman to take me up," and the unhappy youth's voice choked with the
words.
Heathcote gave a long, dismal whistle.
"Whatever will you do?" he asked, in tones of deep concern.
"How can I take it back?" asked Coote, "if I hadn't got it. I wish to
goodness I had got it!"
"You'll have to square him, somehow," said Georgie. "You're positive it
hasn't dropped into your shoes, or anywhere, by accident."
The bare suggestion sent Coote up to the dormitory, where he undressed,
and shook out each article of his toilet, in the hope of discovering the
lost treasure.
Alas! high or low, there was no _sign_ of it.
He spent a terrible afternoon, wondering where he should be that time
to-morrow, or whether possibly Mr Webster would alter his mind, and
send a policeman up forthwith.
He was in no humour for tennis, or a row in the Den, or a "Sociable"
concert after school, and avoided them all. And to add to his troubles,
Heathcote was detained two hours for some offence; so that he was
deprived for an equal length of time of the consolation of that hero's
sympathy and advice.
He spent the interval dismally in a retired corner of the field, where
he hoped to be able to collect his shattered wits in peace. But it was
no good. He could see no way through it.
"Oh!" thought he, for the hundredth time, "how I wish I had really taken
it!"
He had just arrived at this conclusion, when a light step approaching,
caused him to look up, and see Dick.
"Hullo, old man," said the latter, "how jolly blue you look. What's the
row?"
Coote repeated his dismal story, and marked the dismay which crept over
his leader's face as he told it.
"By Jove, old man," said Dick, "it's a mess. How ever are you to get
out?"
"That's just what I don't know," groaned Coote. "If I only had the
pencil it would be all right. But, really and truly, Dick, I never took
it; did I?"
"All serene," said Dick. "But, I say, if you can't give him the pencil
back, perhaps you can pay him for it."
"It cost thirty shillings; and I've only got seven-and-six."
"I've got ten shillings," said Dick. "That's seventeen-and-six.
Perhaps if we gave him that, he'd wait for the rest."
"You're an awful brick," said poor Coote, gratefully. "If it hadn't
been for you and Georgie, I don't know what I should have done."
Dick started and coloured.
"Is he in it? Does he know about it?" he asked.
"Yes, Dick," said Coote, feeling rather in a hobble. "I--thought, you
know, I'd better tell him."
"What did he say?"
"Oh, not much; that is, he said he'd help me if he could. But--I don't
see how he can."
"He might be able to lend you enough to make up the price," said Dick,
after a pause.
"I know he would, he's such a brick--that is," added the wretched Coote,
correcting himself, "you're both such bricks."
Dick made no answer, but walked off, musing to himself.
"Both bricks!" And yet poor Coote had to blush when he mentioned the
name of one brick to the other! Dick was getting tired of this.
He retired to the school, to think over what could be done, and was
about to ascend the stairs, when the familiar form of Georgie appeared
coming to meet him.
"Georgie, Coote's in an awful mess; I vote we back him up."
"So do I, rather, old man."
And they went off arm-in-arm to find him.
Check to you, Pledge!