Peter, pale and staring, was clapping his hands upon his breast and sides. He looked like one suddenly becoming deranged. “He’s sick!” cried Ben. “No, he’s lost something,” said Carl. Peter could only gasp, “The pocketbook with all our money in it--it’s gone!” For an instant all were too much startled to speak. Carl at last came out with a gruff, “No sense in letting one fellow have all the money. I said so from the first. Look in your other pocket.” “I did. It isn’t there.” “Open your underjacket.” Peter obeyed mechanically. He even took off his hat and looked into it, then thrust his hand desperately into every pocket. “It’s gone, boys,” he said at last in a hopeless tone. “No tiffin for us, nor dinner, either. What is to be done? We can’t get on without money. If we were in Amsterdam, I could get as much as we want, but there is not a man in Haarlem from whom I can borrow a stiver. Doesn’t one of you know anyone here who would lend us a few guilders?” Each boy looked into five blank faces. Then something like a smile passed around the circle, but it got sadly knotted up when it reached Carl. “That wouldn’t do,” he said crossly. “I know some people here, rich ones, too, but father would flog me soundly if I borrowed a cent from anyone. He has ‘An honest man need not borrow’ written over the gateway of his summer house.” “Humph!” responded Peter, not particularly admiring the sentiment just at that moment. The boys grew desperately hungry at once. “It wash my fault,” said Jacob, in a penitent tone, to Ben. “I say first, petter all de boys put zair pursh into Van Holp’s monish.” “Nonsense, Jacob. You did it all for the best.” Ben said this in such a sprightly tone that the two Van Holps and Carl felt sure that he had proposed a plan that would relieve the party at once. “What? what? Tell us, Van Mounen,” they cried. “He says it is not Jacob’s fault that the money is lost--that he did it for the best when he proposed that Van Holp should put all of our money into his purse.” “Is that all?” said Ludwig dismally. “He need not have made such a fuss in just saying THAT. How much money have we lost?” “Don’t you remember?” said Peter. “We each put in exactly ten guilders. The purse had sixty guilders in it. I am the stupidest fellow in the world; little Schimmelpenninck would have made you a better captain. I could pommel myself for bringing such a disappointment upon you.” “Do it, then,” growled Carl. “Pooh,” he added, “we all know that it was an accident, but that doesn’t help matters. We must have money, Van Holp--even if you have to sell your wonderful watch.” “Sell my mother’s birthday present! Never! I will sell my coat, my hat, anything but my watch.” “Come, come,” said Jacob pleasantly, “we are making too much of this affair. We can go home and start again in a day or two.”