But Chips Carpenter was reckoning without Mr. Heriot, a magnificent schoolmaster, but a Grand Inquisitor at getting things out of fellows when he liked. To his credit, he never did like a task which some schoolmasters seem to enjoy; but he was not the man to shirk a distasteful duty. Carpenter had long outstayed his leave upstairs and the spare room was directly over Heriot’s study. Voices had been raised at one time to an angry pitch, and this had set the man below thinking, but certainly not listening more than he could help. Nor had he caught a single word; but he had to remember that Carpenter’s pretext for the visit was a private money matter, and other circumstances connected with Jan’s finances. He waylaid Chips on his way down. “Well, Carpenter, you’ve been a long time?” “I’m afraid I have, sir.” “I gave you ten minutes and you took five-and-twenty. However, I hope you got your money?” Chips started. “What money, sir?” “Didn’t you go to collect a private debt?” “I don’t know how you knew, sir.” “I happen to know that Rutter had a good deal of money on Saturday, and that he never as a rule has half enough.” “Yes, sir; he paid me back every penny,” said Chips, without attempting to escape. He was in fact extremely interested in this question of the money, which had been driven out of his mind by other matters, only to return now with evident and yet puzzling significance. He was wondering whether this was not a point on which he could confide honourably in Heriot, since Jan had laid no embargo on the subject. He might only have forgotten to do so—Chips had a high conception of honour in such matters—but anything to throw light on the mystery before it was too late! “Now, you and Rutter have been great friends, haven’t you, Carpenter?” It was the skilful questioner proceeding on his own repugnant lines. “Yes, sir, I think we have, on the whole.” “Has he ever borrowed money from you before?” “Never a penny, sir.” “Had he rather strong principles on the point?” “I used to think he had, sir.” “Do you think he’d break them for his own sake, Carpenter?” “No, sir, I don’t! I—I practically told him so,” replied Chips, after considering whether he was free to say as much. “I’ve only one other question to ask you, Carpenter. You told me, before I let you go up, that several of the leading fellows know something about what’s happened.” “They do, sir.” “Can you think of anybody who doesn’t know, and perhaps ought to know, while there’s time?” Chips felt his heart leap within him, only to sink under the weight of his last promise to Jan; he shrank from the very mention of Evan’s name after such a solemn undertaking as that. And yet Jan came first. “Well, sir, I—_could_.” “Then won’t you?” “If you wouldn’t ask me for my reasons, sir.”