Follow My leader Part 68

"Thank you. So I will. A fortnight ago, gentlemen, a small boy went down to Templeton--"

"Wait!" interposed Mansfield, "we must have names. What boy?"

"A small boy named Coote," began Pledge.

Coote, at the sound of his name, half-bounded from his seat. He knew he was "in it." But what on earth had any proceedings of his a fortnight ago to do with the loss of the _Martha_?

"Went down to Templeton to a shop--"

"What shop?" demanded Mansfield.

"To Webster's shop," replied Pledge, beginning to be ruffled by the Captain's determined manner.

The "Firm" started suddenly. Whatever was coming?

"While spending his time in the shop, the young gentleman, as young gentlemen sometimes do, stole a silver pencil."

There was a pause, and every eye turned towards Coote, who gaped at the announcement and stared at his partners as if he had been confronted with a ghost.

On d.i.c.k's countenance a curious change was taking place. Horror had already given way to bewilderment, and bewilderment was in turn giving way to something which actually looked like a grin.

"The young gentleman," proceeded Pledge, "had two dear friends, called Richardson and Heathcote, to whom he confided his stroke of business, and who joined him in concealing or disposing of the stolen article."

d.i.c.k could remain silent no longer. To the horror of his Firm, and the bewilderment of every one else--most of all, Pledge--he burst into a laugh, which sounded weird in the dead silence.

"Order!" cried Mansfield, sternly. "Go on, Pledge."

"I heard of the theft from the--from Webster immediately after it occurred, and for the last fortnight have been watching the culprits--"

Here he was interrupted by a hiss, which the Captain immediately suppressed.

"And they have actually admitted their guilt in begging me not to tell of them to you."

At this point d.i.c.k started up excitedly, and began--

"I should like to say--"

But the Captain stopped him.

"You will be heard shortly. First of all we must hear Pledge's witness."

"Certainly. I told Webster to call up at half-past four. He doesn't know what for. You'd better have him in. I'll go and fetch him."

"No," said the Captain. "Aspinall, will you ask him to come in?"

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

HOW TEMPLETON TURNS A CORNER.

Aspinall was not absent three minutes altogether, but the interval seemed interminable.

Our heroes, as they sat huddled together, pale, defiant, but bewildered, dividing the attention of the meeting with their accuser, thought it a century. More than once d.i.c.k, boiling over, started to his feet and attempted to speak, but every time Mansfield quietly suppressed him, and told him to wait till the proper time came.

Coote was once more racked by doubts as to whether he had really taken the pencil after all. He was morally certain he had not, but Coote was a youth always open to conviction.

The door opened at last, and Aspinall appeared ushering in the bookseller, who looked like a man who suspected a trap and was prepared to defend himself at the first sign of attack.

He had received a note in the morning from Pledge--of whom he had seen or heard nothing since his visit to the shop a fortnight ago--asking him to be sure to call at the school at 4:30 on a matter of business.

When Aspinall summoned him, he concluded it was to go to Pledge's study.

But when, instead of that, he found himself suddenly ushered into a congregation of the whole school, it was small wonder if he felt bewildered and sniffed treachery.

"Mr Webster," said Mansfield, "Pledge, here, has just been publicly accusing three boys of theft. He says they have robbed you, and we want you to hear his statement and tell us if it is true. Please repeat what you have to say, Pledge, in Mr Webster's hearing."

The stationer, with inquiring face, turned to Pledge, who, despite some vague doubts which were beginning to disturb his confidence, smiled affably and said--

"Oh, sorry to bring you up, Mr Webster, just at your busy time, but I was telling my friends here about that little affair of the pencil-case, you know, which was stolen from you; and as they don't seem inclined to believe me, I thought the best thing would be for you to tell them about it yourself."

The countenance of the bookseller underwent a marvellous transformation as the speech proceeded. When Pledge had ceased, he exclaimed--

"Pencil-case! Why, bless you, Mr Pledge, I found that a fortnight ago!"

This announcement was the signal for a howl such as Templeton had rarely heard. The pent-up scorn of an afternoon broke out against the accuser as he stood there, pale and stupefied, staring at Webster.

It was all Mansfield could do to restore order. The gust had to blow itself more than half out before even he was heeded.

"Look here, you fellows," said he, "don't let us lose our heads. We want to hear the rights and wrongs of the case fairly. Hadn't you better wait till that's done before you turn the place into a bear- garden?"

The rebuke told, and the meeting relapsed into silence.

"You never told me that," snarled Pledge. "You've been fooling me."

"You never asked me. Mr Richardson knew; he was in the shop just after I found it."

"Of course he was," sneered Pledge.

"He needn't have been, if that's what you mean. He'd nothing to do with it. Bless you, it's an old story now; I'd almost forgotten it."

"You forgot, too, that you asked me to recover it for you; and you let me go on while all the time you had it."

"You offered to get it back. I never asked you. You said you had an interest in the young gentlemen."

"And you never thought it worth while to tell me the thing had turned up?"

"I told Mr Richardson, and said I was sorry for the fright he and his two friends had had. It never struck me you'd go on bothering about it, or I'd have told you. Fact of the matter is, I've never seen you from that day to this."