"What could be more likely," he said, "but that the two are in league with one another, and associates of old Lazare what's-his-name? Why didn't I think of it before?"
"This is important," said Patch, seriously. "Daw is a big man, and it might well have been him. Now, the only thing to do is to compare his bootlaces with that impression we've got. And how are we to do that?"
"Sneak up into his room and take a look at them," said Jack.
"Who's going, though? Four of us can't do it."
"Draw lots, then. Here, wait a minute till I collect some pieces of grass."
Outside, in the shadow of the school buildings, they drew for the honour of investigating the room of Mr. Daw, and the shortest straw fell to the lot of Jack.
"You can go up now," said Fane, suddenly. "I remember that Daw went out this evening, and he hasn't come back yet, for he'd have to pass the boot-room to do so. If you're slippy you can get up there, examine the boots and get away again in about a minute."
"I'll do it," said Jack, as they came through once more to the corridors of Salmon's House. He rubbed his chin with his forefinger. "Let me see," he asked, "isn't there an electric torch of yours in the study?"
"Of mine?" said Billy doubtfully. "We'll see." They proceeded to the study, and there Billy unearthed an old, but still serviceable, torch. Armed with this, Jack went upstairs to the upper floor, where the masters' rooms were.
"Tit for tat," he murmured, turning the handle of Daw's door and opening it quietly. He let himself inside, and closed the door noiselessly. For half a minute he stood still, to assure himself that Doctor Daw had not returned, and then, flashing his torch, made a hurried search for the master's boots. He found a few pairs, all showing signs of recent use, but none with the distinctive tag.