Mr Furness found all his boys assembled in the school-room, very busily employed thumbing their books; he ordered silence, and informed them that in consequence of Joey being missing, he was going to assist his father to look after him: and therefore they would have a holiday for that day. He then ranged them all in a row, made them turn to the right face, clap their hands simultaneously, and disperse. Although Mr Furness had advised secrecy to the Rushbrooks, he did not follow the advice he had given; indeed, his reason for not having wished Rushbrook to be with him was, that he might have an opportunity of communicating his secret through the village, which he did by calling at every cottage, and informing the women who were left at home, that Joey Rushbrook had disappeared last night, with his father's gun, and that he was about to go in quest of him. Some nodded and smiled, others shook their heads, some were not at all surprised at it, others thought that things could not go on so for ever. Mr Furness having collected all their various opinions, then set off to the ale-house, to find Byres the pedlar. When he arrived, he found that Byres had not come home that night, and where he was nobody knew, which was more strange, as his box was up in his bed-chamber. Mr Furness returned to the village intending to communicate this information to Rushbrook, but on calling, he found that Rushbrook had gone out in search of the boy. Furness then resolved to go up at once to the keeper's lodge, and solve the mystery. He took the high road, and met Rushbrook returning. "Well, have you gained any tidings," inquired the pedagogue. "None," replied Rushbrook. "Then it's my opinion, my worthy friend, that we had better at once proceed to the keeper's cottage and make inquiry; for, strange to say, I have been to the ale-house, and my friend Byres is also missing." "Indeed!" exclaimed Rushbrook, who had now completely recovered his self-possession. "Be it so, then; let us go to the keeper's." They soon arrived there, and found the keeper at home, for he had returned to his dinner. Rushbrook, who had been cogitating how to proceed, was the first to speak. "You haven't taken my poor Joey, have you, sir?" said he to the keeper. "Not yet," replied the keeper, surlily. "You don't mean to say that you know nothing about him?" replied Rushbrook. "Yes, I know something about him and about you too, my chap," replied the keeper. "But, Mr Lucas," interrupted the pedagogue, "allow me to put you in possession of the facts. It appears that this boy--a boy of great natural parts, and who has been for some time under my tuition, did last night, but at what hour is unknown to his disconsolate parents, leave the cottage, taking with him his father's gun, and has not been heard of since." "Well, I only hope he's shot himself, that's all," replied the keeper. "So you have a gun, then, have you, my honest chap?" continued he, turning to Rushbrook.