“Gone!” exclaimed Mrs. Hartel and Edith together.
“What do you mean?” asked the superintendent.
“I left them standing in a safe place,” said Allan, “and they are not there. I have looked everywhere.”
“Great Scott!” ejaculated the superintendent. “They couldn’t be stolen, could they?”
“Surely not,” said Mrs. Hartel. “Are you sure, Allan, that you didn’t carry them in here?”
“Think a minute,” said the superintendent, with his hand on Allan’s shoulder. “Perhaps you put them in some special place. I often do that—and then forget where the place is.”
“I know I left them there,” Allan persisted, “for I looked at them before I came in to-night. I had them in a place I had arranged for negatives.”
The superintendent sat down again. “Have you told anybody about this thing?—I forgot to tell you not to.”
Allan declared that he had spoken to but one boy about it, and he enumerated those who knew about it through Owen and McConnell. “The only one I spoke to,” said Allan, “was Cheney.”
“Cheney!” cried the superintendent. “Sam Cheney’s boy?”