“Mightn’t Eddy have seen the combination and told some one else of it?” suggested Miss Devon, modestly.
“I think not,” replied Mr. Moore, with an air of finality, but yet condescending to explain himself. “If he saw anything,—and he probably saw no more than that you were having difficulty in opening the door,—you may be assured that he forgot it immediately. The prospect of going to Boston would exclude almost anything else from his mind. He was in my recitation at ten o’clock, and a more absent-minded pupil I never had. I will question him, however, on his return, and make sure of the fact. I should rather be of the opinion that we have here the work of some clever professional who has found an unusually good opportunity to ply his trade with safety and profit.”
“We have never had burglars in town,” murmured Miss Devon, not wholly convinced. “I don’t see why this little safe should attract their notice. Shall you put the matter in the hands of the police?”
Mr. Moore hesitated. “That will require consideration,” he answered. “We may consult the police, but I doubt if we should be willing to incur the notoriety of a public investigation for so small a sum. The thief, I am afraid, is secure in his plunder. At present we had better say nothing about the matter.”
They separated at the door and went their respective ways, Mr. Moore calm in exterior but much worried within, Miss Devon in a condition of woe closely bordering on hysterics. Under the teacher’s smooth, long words she had divined an undefined suspicion that she might be making much of unimportant incidents to cover some carelessness of her own. The discovery came upon her with a shock. If Mr. Moore could harbor such a doubt, what might not other people think and say when the story came out,—the merciless, insatiate gossips of the small town? With all her heart she longed for Mr. Graham’s speedy return.
CHAPTER X
MR. MOORE’S THEORY
The story, or a distorted version of it, was soon out. The housekeeper hinted at strange doings at the office, and straightway rumor flew that the big vault had been rifled of a thousand dollars. Eddy came home and was examined by Mr. Moore; and his account of the interview, wormed out of him by zealous questioners, set a new tale afloat so much worse than the truth that the school authorities published the facts in sheer self-defence.
The students seized upon the incident with avidity. Petty thefts from gymnasium lockers had been known in previous years. Here for once was a real burglary in their midst, with a mystery to be solved. The boys attacked the problem tooth and nail, but their method was one of hypothesis and discussion rather than of investigation. Some pictured a masked burglar, operating in the dead of night. Others held dark suspicions of Miss Devon. Still others advocated the view that it was a sneak student who had in some way got into the room unobserved and juggled with the knob of the safe until it had opened. For several weeks after, doors whose bolts had not been shot since the year began, were very carefully locked when bedtime came.
Among the first arguments introduced into the discussion was the example of the safe at Morrison’s which Tompkins had opened so easily in the fall. This suggestion was followed up among Tommy’s friends by a jocose reminder that Tommy, who had been very short, was suddenly flush again. Outside the circle of friends, the statement was repeated without the character of jest. By the time it had made the circuit of the school, it had acquired the addition that Tompkins was suspected of the robbery, and that he was to be expelled as soon as Mr. Graham returned.