I went through the passages and turned into the box-room; a place where knots of us gathered sometimes. But the mantelpiece had no half-crown on it, and I carried the news back to Tod. "Did you take it up again, Bill?" he asked of Whitney. "I didn't touch it after I put it down," said Whitney. "It was there when the tea-bell rang." They said I had overlooked it, and both went to the box-room. I followed slowly; thinking they should search for themselves. Which they did; and were standing with blank faces when I got in. "It has gone after my guinea," Whitney was saying. "What guinea?" "My guinea. The one you saw. That disappeared a week ago." Bill was not a fellow to make much row over anything; but Tod--and I, too--wondered at his having taken it so easily. Tod asked him why he had not spoken. "Because Lacketer--who was with me when I discovered the loss--asked me to be silent for a short time," said Whitney. "He has a suspicion; and is looking out for himself." "Lacketer has?" "He says so. I am sure he has. He thinks he could put his finger any minute on the fellow; but it would not do to accuse him without proof; and he is waiting for it." Tod glanced at me, and I at him, both of us thinking of Vale. "Yesterday Lacketer lost something himself," continued Whitney. "A shilling, I think it was. He went into a fine way over it, and said now he'd watch in earnest." "Who is it he suspects?" asked Tod. "He won't tell me; says it would not be fair." "Well, I shall talk about my half-crown, if you and Lacketer choose to be silent over your losses," said Tod, decisively. "And I'll be as good as my word, and give the reptile a ducking if I can track him." He went straight to the playground. It was a fine October evening, the daylight nearly gone, and the hunter's moon rising in the sky. Tod told about his half-crown, and the boys ceased their noise to listen to him. He talked himself into a passion, and said some stinging things. "He suspected who it was, and he heard that Lacketer suspected, and he fancied that another or two suspected, and one _knew_; and he thought, now that affairs had come to this pitch, when nothing, put for a minute out of hand, was safe, it might be better for them all to declare their suspicions, and hunt the animal as they'd hunt a hare." There was a pause when Tod finished. He was about the biggest and strongest in the school; his voice was one of power, his manner ready and decisive; so that it was just as though a master spoke. Lacketer came out from amongst them, looking white. I could see that in the twilight. "Who says I suspect? Speak for yourself, Todhetley. Don't bring up my name." "Do you scent the fox, or don't you?" roared Tod back again, not at all in a humour to be crossed. "If you _do_, you must speak, and not shirk it. Is the whole school to lie under doubt because of one black sheep?"