"Slightly raising himself from his position on the roof, Crick lifted the flagstaff from its socket, and drew it quickly beneath the trap-door."
"Got it!" he cried, with a thrill of joy, as he glanced at the old, discoloured flag which had seen so much service—"got it!"
Quickly rolling it round the staff, he next drew from under his sweater a cover of American cloth, which he wound in turn round the flag and staff, till nothing could be seen of them. No one could have told what the cloth concealed. It looked like a bundle of fishing-rods.
Descending the stairs as cautiously as he had ascended them, he once more reached the door leading from the turret stairs.
"Now for it," he thought, bracing himself up.
He had only to get outside the grounds and reach the place where Mellor was awaiting him. He crept round the side wall, and was just about to hasten through that part of the grounds which lay between him and the road, when he drew back suddenly. A boy was staggering along in the direction of the schoolhouse with a burden of some sort in his arms.
"My stars! Another moment and he would have seen me!" thought Crick, with a breath of relief. "What's he got in his arms, I wonder? Looks like another chap, as though they'd been in the wars together."
It was Paul, hastening to the school with Hibbert. In another minute he had passed by where Crick was hiding. Then Crick heard voices. It was Paul speaking to Waterman at the school door. The listener caught the word "accident." The next moment Waterman darted past him. The coast being again clear, Crick promptly followed in Waterman's footsteps. He was not long in reaching the hedge behind which Mellor was awaiting him.
"Got it?" was the eager question.
"Yes. Look!"
Mellor could have shouted with joy. Was it possible that the flag was actually in their possession?
"Bravo, Crick! It's the biggest thing we've ever scored over the Gargoyles. My! won't they be savage! There'll be no holding them in when they find their flag's gone. But what's up? There's been an accident of some sort."
"I know there has. I nearly ran into a fellow who was carrying a kid in his arms. Luckily I pulled up in time. Who were they—do you know?"
"One was Percival, the fellow who skedaddled from Wyndham at the sand-pit. I don't know the kid he had in his arms, he must be a fresher."
"A fresher! He wasn't much of a fresher to look at. He looked like a drowned rat."
The two returned to St. Bede's by the longest but less frequented way, and at length reached it without further adventure. They determined to hide the flag for the time being, and to confide the secret to their own Form only—the Fourth.
The Fourth was very jubilant, as may be imagined, at the feat performed by Crick and Mellor, who were at once looked upon as heroes. The flag, meanwhile, had been hidden in a barn, standing in a field near St. Bede's, belonging to a father of one of the day boys in Mellor's Form.
Frequently they met in the barn, and withdrawing the flag from its hiding-place, stuck it in the centre of the floor, and danced round it like a band of wild Indians celebrating a victory.
Things were at this pass when Paul came to the decision to visit St. Bede's, to see if he could obtain information as to the missing flag. Plunger and Moncrief minor happened to be out on an expedition of their own that afternoon on Cranstead Common. Plunger caught sight of Paul as he turned the bend of the road leading to St. Bede's.
"That was Percival, I'm pretty well sure of it," he cried. "Didn't you see him?"
"No. By himself?"
"Isn't he always by himself? But let's make certain."
The two boys ran to the roadway and glanced along it. There, sure enough, was Percival striding quickly along in the direction of St. Bede's.
"Where's he making for? For the seminary of the crawlers, seems to me," said Plunger. "Queer sort of chap! What can he want up there?"
Harry did not answer. He recalled the afternoon when he had seen Paul speaking to Wyndham. He had tried to forget that incident, and along with it the incident that had happened at the sand-pit. He had tried to think only of Paul's heroism on the river when he had saved the lives of three of his school-fellows. He had cheered him as heartily as the rest on that day when Baldry had called for "Three cheers for Percival!" After, as we have seen, he had tried to heal the differences between his cousin and Percival; but now all the old suspicions came back with a rush.
"Yes; what can he want up there? Supposing we find out. There can be no harm in watching him."
Plunger, as we know, had the bump of curiosity largely developed, and his curiosity to know what Paul was doing at St. Bede's caused him to forget, perhaps, that in playing the spy he was not altogether making the best return in his power to one who had risked so much to save him from a watery grave.
So he at once fell in with Harry's suggestion, and the two, keeping in the background, followed in the footsteps of Paul.