“It’s only for three days,” he assured the good-natured Hannah, who would have been quite content to wait for repayment till the day of judgment. But it eased Palmer’s conscience to set himself this strict time limit. He knew that to borrow money from an obliging cook was not at all the proper thing for a gentleman to do, and only the direst necessity, and the fact that he must be in possession of it before six o’clock, would have caused him to take such a step. A minute or two later the little group on the lawn saw him scorching down the avenue at full speed on Edward’s bicycle, and Ann and Jim began to speculate wildly as to what he could be going to do. Edward, on the other hand, felt sulky and ill-used. Even prolonged experience of it could never reconcile him to Palmer’s love of secrecy. The problem was interrupted by the return of Aunt Caroline and Barbara. Ann and Jim raced to meet them, screaming out the news about Pouncer and Grif, and adding a rapid account of the bewildering behaviour of Palmer. “They weren’t at the Batts’,” said Aunt Caroline, who, like Edward and the others, appeared to take it for granted that Pouncer and his master were together. “We’ve just come from there. I do wish that child had some rudimentary sense of time. There’s not a bit of use waiting tea for him. He’s just as likely to come back at eight as within the next half hour.” This was perfectly true, but to-night Palmer also was late for tea, and when he entered the room it was with an air of reserve which a lively cross-examination carried on by Ann and Jim quite failed to break down. When eight o’clock came, and still Grif had not appeared, Aunt Caroline began to grow uneasy. Miss Johnson, who considered that she had been most unjustly snubbed for certain remarks made on the last occasion of his absence, carefully refrained from commenting on the matter, but Aunt Caroline decided that she had better tell grandpapa. “He really must stop this kind of thing,” said the canon, mildly. “I’ll just stroll over to the church and see if he’s there, and if he’s not I’ll go on to Bradley’s lodgings. I’ll have to tell Bradley that he’s not to keep him so late, though I’m afraid he’s hardly more reliable than Grif himself.” “And if he isn’t there,” said Aunt Caroline, “what will you do?” “I suppose I’ll come home without him. I know, dear, it doesn’t sound brilliant, but what else is there for it? We can hardly send poor Drummond out again to scour the country. After all, nothing very much can happen to him; and surely when it begins to get dark he’ll be reminded that tea is at six.” “But perhaps he didn’t find Pouncer, and it may be that that’s keeping him.” “Well, I’ll go to the church in any case.” At a quarter to nine, however, the canon returned alone. “Has he come back?” were his first words, and Aunt Caroline’s disappointed face was sufficient answer to them. “Bradley says he hasn’t seen him since the day before yesterday. It’s rather provoking!”