It was taken as an affirmative. The boys believed the thief was found, and were mad against him. Vale spoke something, shaking and trembling like the leaves in the wind, but his words were drowned. He was not brave, and they looked ready to tear him to pieces. "My half-crown, Vale," roared Tod. "Did you take it just now?" Vale made no answer; I thought he could not. His face frightened me; the lips were blue and drawn, his teeth chattered. "Search his pockets." It was a simultaneous thought, for a dozen said it. Vale was turned out, and half-a-crown found upon him; no other money. The boys yelled and groaned. Tod, with his great strength, pushed them aside, as the coin was flung to him. "Shall I resume possession of this half-crown?" he asked of Vale, holding it before him in defiant mockery. "If you like. I----" Vale broke down with a gasp and a sob. His piteous aspect might have moved even Tod. "Look here," said he, "I don't care in general to punish a coward; I regard him as an abject animal beneath me: but I cannot go from my word. Ducking is too good for you, Vale, but you shall have it. Be off to that tree yonder; we'll give you so much grace. Let him start fair, boys, and then hound him on. It will be a fine chase." Vale, seeming to be too confused and terror-stricken to do anything but obey, went to the tree, and then darted away _in the direction of the river_. It takes time to read all this; but scarcely a minute appeared to have passed since Tod first came out with Whitney, and spoke of the half-crown. Giving Vale the fair start, the boys sprang after him, like a pack of hounds in full cry. Tod, the swiftest runner in the school, was following, when he found himself seized by Sanker. I had stayed behind. "Have you been accusing Vale? Are you going to duck him?" "Well?" cried Tod, angry at being stopped. "It was not Vale who took the things. Vale! He is as innocent as you are. You'll kill him, Todhetley; he cannot bear terror." "Who says he is innocent?" "I do. I say it on my honour. It was another fellow, whose name I've been suppressing. This is _your_ work, Johnny Ludlow." I felt a sudden rush of repentance. A conviction that Sanker spoke nothing but the truth. "You said it was Vale, Sanker." "I never did. _You_ said it. I told you you'd better believe it was any other rather than Vale. And I meant it." But that Sanker was not a fellow to tell a lie, I should have thought he told one then. The impression, resting on my memory, was that he acknowledged to its being Vale, if he had not exactly stated it. "You know you told me to be quiet, Sanker: you said, give him a chance." "But I thought you were speaking of another then, not Vale. I swear it was not Vale. He is as honest as the day." Tod, looking ready to strike me, waiting for no more explanation, was already off, shouting to the crew to turn, far more anxious now to save Vale than he had been to duck him.