“It’s strange we can’t stop this thing!” exclaimed Melvin.
“There were a dozen fellows in the locker rooms during the afternoon. Bosworth was one, of course, and he was there early, but no one suspects him. Hayes thinks it was one of the bowling-alley boys, and Farnum, who told me about it, charges it to the painter. I know who did it, I’ll bet; but I have no more proof than in the case of the safe.”
“Given that up at last, haven’t you?” said Melvin, with a broad smile of amusement on his face. “You’re great on theories and suspicions, and can read a man’s lips fifty feet away, but all the same, when it comes to facts, you’re not there.”
“That may be so, and may not be,” said Varrell, with an air of superiority. “I don’t pretend to be a detective, but I haven’t given up hope, and shall not give it up till I board the train after the college exams in June. The fellow is getting reckless, and will sooner or later expose himself. All we can do is to watch and wait.”
“Watch and wait!” sniffed Melvin. “That’s what we’ve been doing, isn’t it? and see, what has the result been? Durand has lost money, and Hayes has lost money, and we’re no nearer getting our hands on the thief than we were before.”
“Oh, yes, we are,” said Varrell. “To begin with, Eddy has become intimate again with Bosworth. I have seen him two or three times lately in Bosworth’s room. Yesterday they had a hot discussion about something, and some of it was carried on near the window while I was at work behind my blinds. With the help of my Zeiss opera-glass I caught several expressions that gave me a clew to the conversation.”
“What did they say?” asked Dick, eagerly.
“Well, Bosworth was the first one who appeared. He came to the window, wearing that sneering look of his, and looked down to see if there was any one outside. Before he turned around he looked across to my window, and as he did so, he said: ‘You can’t help yourself. You’re in it as deep as I am. You gave me the information and shared the profits. If I get into trouble, I take you with me.’ Then both remained away for some minutes. Eddy was the next to show himself, with tears running down his cheeks, and his chin jerking with sobs, so that it was hard to follow the motion of his lips. Apparently he said nothing for a minute, but just leaned his forehead against the frame of the lower sash, which was raised high. Suddenly he clenched his fist and brought it down on the window seat, and cried out, ‘I won’t keep the dirty money! I’ll pay you back the first of next month, and then you will see, you miserable—’ He turned his head away so that I couldn’t see the next words. Bosworth appeared immediately and pulled him away from the window.”
“Poor little fool!” said Melvin, sadly. “What a pity we can’t do something to save him from that rascal! Bosworth has apparently got some grip on him and is scaring the life out of him.”
“He’s probably lent Eddy money, and by pretending it’s a part of what was in the safe, has tied the boy’s tongue. It is clear that Eddy holds the key to the situation. If some one could only induce him to tell what he knows, it would give us the evidence we need to banish Bosworth, and might help us to save Eddy. Does Phil know him well?”