THE DISAPPEARANCE OF J. THOMSON
Certainly the Head was surprised.
He read the note again. No. There was no mistake. 'Thomson is not in
the House.' There could be no two meanings about that.
'Go across to Mr Merevale's,' he said at last, 'and ask him if he would
mind seeing me here for a moment.'
The butler bowed his head gently, but with more than a touch of pained
astonishment. He thought the Headmaster might show more respect for
persons. A butler is not an errand-boy.
'Sir?' he said, giving the Head a last chance, as it were, of realising
the situation.
'Ask Mr Merevale to step over here for a moment.'
The poor man bowed once more. The phantom of a half-smoked cigar
floated reproachfully before his eyes. He had lit it a quarter of an
hour ago in fond anticipation of a quiet evening. Unless a miracle had
occurred, it must be out by this time. And he knew as well as anybody
else that a relighted cigar is never at its best. But he went, and in a
few minutes Mr Merevale entered the room.
'Sit down, Mr Merevale,' said the Head. 'Am I to understand from your
note that Thomson is actually not in the House?'
Mr Merevale thought that if he had managed to understand anything else
from the note he must possess a mind of no common order, but he did not
say so.
'No,' he said. 'Thomson has not been in the House since lunchtime, as
far as I know. It is a curious thing.'
'It is exceedingly serious. Exceedingly so. For many reasons. Have you
any idea where he was seen last?'
'Harrison in my House says he saw him at about three o'clock.'
'Ah!'
'According to Harrison, he was walking in the direction of Stapleton.'
'Ah. Well, it is satisfactory to know even as little as that.'
'Just so. But Mace--he is in my House, too--declares that he saw
Thomson at about the same time cycling in the direction of Badgwick.
Both accounts can scarcely be correct.'
'But--dear me, are you certain, Mr Merevale?'
Merevale nodded to imply that he was. The Head drummed irritably with
his fingers on the arm of his chair. This mystery, coming as it did
after the series of worries through which he had been passing for the
last few days, annoyed him as much as it is to be supposed the last
straw annoyed the proverbial camel.
'As a matter of fact,' said Merevale, 'I know that Thomson started to
run in the long race this afternoon. I met him going to the
starting-place, and advised him to go and change again. He was not
looking at all fit for such a long run. It seems to me that Welch might
know where he is. Thomson and he got well ahead of the others after the
start, so that if, as I expect, Thomson dropped out early in the race,
Welch could probably tell us where it happened. That would give us some
clue to his whereabouts, at any rate.'
'Have you questioned Welch?'
'Not yet. Welch came back very tired, quite tired out, in fact and went
straight to bed. I hardly liked to wake him except as a last resource.
Perhaps I had better do so now?'
'I think you should most certainly. Something serious must have
happened to Thomson to keep him out of his House as late as this.
Unless--'
He stopped. Merevale looked up enquiringly. The Head, after a moment's
deliberation, proceeded to explain.
'I have made a very unfortunate mistake with regard to Thomson, Mr
Merevale. A variety of reasons led me to think that he had had
something to do with this theft of the Sports prizes.'
'Thomson!' broke in Merevale incredulously.
'There was a considerable weight of evidence against him, which I have
since found to be perfectly untrustworthy, but which at the time seemed
to me almost conclusive.'
'But surely,' put in Merevale again, 'surely Thomson would be the last
boy to do such a thing. Why should he? What would he gain by it?'
'Precisely. I can understand that perfectly in the light of certain
information which I have just received from the inspector. But at the
time, as I say, I believed him guilty. I even went so far as to send
for him and question him upon the subject. Now it has occurred to me,
Mr Merevale--you understand that I put it forward merely as a
conjecture--it occurs to me--'
'That Thomson has run away,' said Merevale bluntly.
The Head, slightly discomposed by this Sherlock-Holmes-like reading of
his thoughts, pulled himself together, and said, 'Ah--just so. I think
it very possible.'
'I do not agree with you,' said Merevale. 'I know Thomson well, and I
think he is the last boy to do such a thing. He is neither a fool nor a
coward, to put it shortly, and he would need to have a great deal of
both in him to run away.'
The Head looked slightly relieved at this.
'You--ah--think so?' he said.
'I certainly do. In the first place, where, unless he went home, would
he run to? And as he would be going home in a couple of days in the
ordinary course of things, he would hardly be foolish enough to risk
expulsion in such a way.'
Mr Merevale always rather enjoyed his straight talks with the
Headmaster. Unlike most of his colleagues he stood in no awe of him
whatever. He always found him ready to listen to sound argument, and,
what was better, willing to be convinced. It was so in this case.
'Then I think we may dismiss that idea,' said the Head with visible
relief. The idea of such a scandal occurring at St Austin's had filled
him with unfeigned horror. 'And now I think it would be as well to go
across to your House and hear what Welch has to say about the matter.
Unless Thomson returns soon--and it is already past nine o'clock--we
shall have to send out search-parties.'
Five minutes later Welch, enjoying a sound beauty-sleep, began to be
possessed of a vague idea that somebody was trying to murder him. His
subsequent struggles for life partially woke him, and enabled him to
see dimly that two figures were standing by his bed.
'Yes?' he murmured sleepily, turning over on to his side again, and
preparing to doze off. The shaking continued. This was too much. 'Look
here,' said he fiercely, sitting up. Then he recognised his visitors.
As his eye fell on Merevale, he wondered whether anything had occurred
to bring down his wrath upon him. Perhaps he had gone to bed without
leave, and was being routed out to read at prayers or do some work? No,
he remembered distinctly getting permission to turn in. What then could
be the matter?
At this point he recognised the Headmaster, and the last mists of sleep
left him.
'Yes, sir?' he said, wide-awake now.
Merevale put the case briefly and clearly to him. 'Sorry to disturb
you, Welch. I know you are tired.'
'Not at all, sir,' said Welch, politely.
'But there is something we must ask you. You probably do not know that
Thomson has not returned?'
'Not returned!'
'No. Nobody knows where he is. You were probably the last to see him.
What happened when you and he started for the long run this afternoon?
You lost sight of the rest, did you not?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Well?'
'And Thomson dropped out.'
'Ah.' This from the Headmaster.
'Yes, sir. He said he couldn't go any farther. He told me to go on.
And, of course, I did, as it was a race. I advised him to go back to
the House and change. He looked regularly done up. I think he ran too
hard in the mile yesterday.'
The Head spoke.
'I thought that some such thing must have happened. Where was it that
he dropped out, Welch?'
'It was just as we came to a long ploughed field, sir, by the side of a
big wood.'
'Parker's Spinney, I expect,' put in Merevale.
'Yes, sir. About a mile from the College.'
'And you saw nothing more of him after that?' inquired the Headmaster.
'No, sir. He was lying on his back when I left him. I should think some
of the others must have seen him after I did. He didn't look as if he
was likely to get up for some time.'
'Well,' said the Head, as he and Merevale went out of the room, leaving
Welch to his slumbers, 'we have gained little by seeing Welch. I had
hoped for something more. I must send the prefects out to look for
Thomson at once.'
'It will be a difficult business,' said Merevale, refraining--to his
credit be it said--from a mention of needles and haystacks. 'We have
nothing to go upon. He may be anywhere for all we know. I suppose it is
hardly likely that he is still where Welch left him?'
The Head seemed to think this improbable. 'That would scarcely be the
case unless he were very much exhausted. It is more than five hours
since Welch saw him. I can hardly believe that the worst exhaustion
would last so long. However, if you would kindly tell your
House-prefects of this--'
'And send them out to search?'
'Yes. We must do all we can. Tell them to begin searching where Thomson
was last seen. I will go round to the other Houses. Dear me, this is
exceedingly annoying. Exceedingly so.'
Merevale admitted that it was, and, having seen his visitor out of the
House, went to the studies to speak to his prefects. He found Charteris
and Tony together in the former's sanctum.
'Has anything been heard about Thomson, sir?' said Tony, as he entered.
'That is just what I want to see you about. Graham, will you go and
bring the rest of the prefects here?'
'Now,' he said, as Tony returned with Swift and Daintree, the two
remaining House-prefects, 'you all know, of course, that Thomson is not
in the House. The Headmaster wants you to go and look for him. Welch
seems to have been the last to see him, and he left him lying in a
ploughed field near Parker's Spinney. You all know Parker's Spinney, I
suppose?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then you had better begin searching from there. Go in twos if you
like, or singly. Don't all go together. I want you all to be back by
eleven. All got watches?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Good. You'd better take lanterns of some sort. I think I can raise a
bicycle lamp each, and there is a good moon. Look everywhere, and shout
as much as you like. I think he must have sprained an ankle or
something. He is probably lying somewhere unable to move, and too far
away from the road to make his voice heard to anyone. If you start now,
you will have just an hour and a half. You should have found him by
then. The prefects from the other Houses will help you.'
Daintree put in a pertinent question.
'How about trespassing, sir?'
'Oh, go where you like. In reason, you know. Don't go getting the
School mixed up in any unpleasantness, of course, but remember that
your main object is to find Thomson. You all understand?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Very good. Then start at once.'
'By Jove,' said Swift, when he had gone, 'what an unholy rag! This
suits yours truly. Poor old Jim, though. I wonder what the deuce has
happened to him?'
At that very moment the Headmaster, leaving Philpott's House to go to
Prater's, was wondering the same thing. In spite of Mr Merevale's
argument, he found himself drifting back to his former belief that Jim
had run away. What else could keep him out of his House more than three
hours after lock-up? And he had had some reason for running away, for
the _conscia mens recti,_ though an excellent institution in
theory, is not nearly so useful an ally as it should be in practice.
The Head knocked at Prater's door, pondering darkly within himself.