"It's an awful shame that a gold watch, or any such bribe should be needed," called out Loftus major. "Who but a sneak would shoot a fellow, and then shrink from avowing it, letting suspicion fall on the rest indiscriminately? A sneak, I say." "Do you mean that for me, Mr. Loftus?" spluttered Lamb, who was sitting opposite to Loftus at the table. "Because if you do—" "There you go, Lamb, you and your corky temper, interposed good-humoured Leek. "You be quiet, Onions. I say that if he does, I'll make him prove his words." There was a smothered laugh. The notion of Lamb's making a senior prove anything, was good, especially Loftus. "I don't mean it for Lamb in particular, unless he chooses to take it to himself," coolly drawled Loftus. "I have no reason for supposing he can take it." The semi-apology did not satisfy Lamb. He knew that he was called the "sneak," par excellence; he knew that he did many little underhand things to deserve it. Consequently he always strove to appear particularly white; and to have this grave suspicion thrown upon him was driving him wild. "I believe that Loftus knows I was no more out last night than he was," said Lamb, giving his Virgil a passionate wrench, which tore the cover—"that you all know it." "As far as I can understand, not a soul of you went out, except Smart and Loftus minor," observed the senior boy, who really wished to heal the general discomfort. "None of you were missed." "And that's true," said Lamb. "And if it comes to that, who is to say that it was not that new fellow did it, after all? Took up the pistol and shot it off by accident, and went and said what he did to screen himself." "What new fellow? Do you mean Paradyne?" quickly asked Irby, following out some association of ideas in his mind. "Paradyne, no! What could Paradyne have had to do with it? I mean the new master; that German fellow with an English name." "Nonsense, Lamb!" Lamb nodded his head oracularly. "It might have been." It was a new phase of the question, and the boys looked up. Lamb continued. "Trace says he thinks he's a regular spy." "By the way, where is Trace?" asked Gall, who had suddenly noticed that Trace, usually so punctual at studies, was not present. "It couldn't have been him," said Leek, regardless of the question as to Trace. "He saw the fellow making off; he said he wore the college cap." "Your tongue is ever ready, Onions," was the rebuke of the senior boy. "It's not at all likely to have been Mr. Henry; but neither is it obliged to have been the fellow he saw making off. And if it was, the fellow might not have come out of the college; he may be an outsider. Get on with your work; there's really no cause to be worrying over it and suspecting each other." The words acted as oil on the troubled waters, and they began to settle down to their books and exercises. But it's pleasanter to gossip than to learn. "Why does Trace think the German's a spy?" asked Loftus minor.