Follow My leader Part 47

Whatever else he looked at, he always came back to this treasure; and finally, when he became aware that Mr Westworth was about to depart, he had almost to push it from him, in order to bring himself to the pitch of leaving too.

He had no desire further to lacerate Mr Webster's feelings by declining to purchase anything, and therefore quitted the shop hurriedly, not noticing, as he did so, that the unlucky little pencil, which he had put down with such affectionate reluctance, had shown its regret by rolling quietly and sadly off the tray on to the counter, till it reached a gap half-way, into which it plunged suicidally, and became lost to the light of day.

Mr Webster, who had seen as little of the catastrophe as the boy had, bowed his reverend guest out, and then turned to the disordered tray with a shrug of his shoulders.

His review of its contents had not lasted half a minute when he started and uttered an exclamation. The pencil was gone--so was Coote!

For once there was no shadow of a doubt in the honest stationer's mind; it was as clear as daylight. No one else had been in the shop except the curate, who had never been near the tray. Coote had; he had touched and fingered all its contents; he had had this very pencil in his hand, he had quitted the shop abruptly, and started running as soon as he got outside.

Mr Webster _did_ know what two and two made, and it was quite a relief to him to feel absolutely and positively certain he had been robbed by a Templeton boy!

His one difficulty was that he did not remember having seen Coote before, nor did he know his name. However, he would find him, if he had the whole school marched one by one in front of him, and, when he had found him, he would make an example of him.

Blissfully unconscious of the cloud on the horizon, Coote had arrived at the school just in time for chapel. On his way out Heathcote came up and took his arm.

"Well, old fellow," said that youth in a loud voice, which made it perfectly clear to Coote that d.i.c.k must be somewhere within hearing, "come and have another jolly two-hander after school, won't you? You and I ought to be able to lick Raggles and Culver into fits now, oughtn't we?"

"It's a wonder to me," said d.i.c.k, walking off in another direction with Aspinall, "how Raggles and Culver play tennis at all; any fool could lick them left-handed."

Aspinall knew better than to dispute the a.s.sertion, and submitted to be taken down to the courts after morning school by d.i.c.k, where, in full view of Heathcote and Coote, the two played an exciting match, in which, of course, d.i.c.k came off victorious, for the simple reason that Aspinall had not the moral courage to beat him.

Towards the end of the game Cresswell and Cartwright walked up with their rackets. Finding all the courts occupied, Cresswell said to d.i.c.k--

"You two may as well make up a four with Heathcote and Coote; we want one of the courts."

d.i.c.k was delighted to give up the court, but he was far too f.a.gged to play any more. So was Aspinall, wasn't he? Besides, they neither of them cared about four-handers.

Heathcote and Coote, for their part, were far too absorbed in their game to heed Cresswell's suggestion. They were playing best out of fifteen sets, Georgie announced, and had just finished the third. Which being known, the spectators fell away from that part of the field rapidly.

The two o'clock bell sounded before the fifth set was over, rather to Coote's relief, who had been getting just tennis enough during the last week.

The two champions were walking back lovingly to the school, when, as they approached the Quad gate, Heathcote said--

"Hallo! there's Webster! What's he hanging about for there?"

"Perhaps you owe him a bill," said Coote.

"Not I. I've jacked Webster up; he's a surly beast."

"I was in his shop this morning," said Coote. "There was such a stunning little shut-up penholder, about so big. I can't fancy how they make them shut up so small."

"Did you buy it?"

"No; I couldn't afford it. Hallo! what does he want? He's beckoning."

"Jolly cheek of him!" said Heathcote. "If he wants you, let him come.

I wouldn't go to him if I were you. Call out and ask him what he wants."

Whereupon Coote called out:--

"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.