"No man in the world would give you the credit of being one. And pray, where did Mr. Grantham's money go to?"
"Into your pockets, Fox, as regularly as a clockwork machine."
"A precious secret, truly," said Mr. Fox-Cordery, flicking a speck of dust off his sleeve, "and a most valuable one for you to have preserved all these years. I presume if a man, or a schoolboy, is weak enough to lend his money he has a right to receive it back."
"An indubitable right; but in this case there is no question of borrowing and paying back. Would you like to hear how I came into a knowledge of this mystery?"
"I have no desire; it is quite immaterial to me."
"It was an accidental discovery. You and Bob Grantham were bosom friends. It was touching to observe how deeply attached you were to him; and, in these circumstances, any friendship he formed being on his part sincere, it was natural that you should be much in each other's society. Now, it was noticeable that every fourth Monday evening you and he disappeared for an hour or two, and it was for this reason that you used to be asked what Bob Grantham did with the ten pounds he received regularly on that day. On one of these Monday evenings I happened to be taking a lonely walk in a pretty bit of forest about two miles from the schoolhouse. There was a nook in the forest which was very secluded, and one had to go out of one's way to get to it. I went out of my way on that particular Monday evening, not because I wanted to reach this secluded nook, because I did not know of it, but aimlessly and without any special purpose. I heard voices, and peeping through a cluster of trees, I saw you and Bob sitting on the grass, playing cards. A white handkerchief was spread between you, and on this handkerchief were the stakes you were playing for--Bob's money and your own. I waited, and observed. Sovereign after sovereign went into your pocket. You were quiet, and cool, and bland, as you are now, though I dare say something is passing inside of you. What a rare power you have of concealing your feelings, Fox! Some people might envy you; I don't. Bob Grantham, all the time he was losing, laughed and joked, and bore his losses like a man; and he kept on losing till he was cleaned out. Then he rose, and laughingly said: 'You will give me my revenge, Fox?' 'When you like, old fellow,' you answered; 'what bad luck you have.' 'Oh, it will turn,' he said; 'all you've got to do is to stick to it.' That is how I discovered where poor Bob's money went to, Fox."
"Well, and what of it?" said Mr. Fox-Cordery, with a sneer. "He was fond of a game of cards, and he played and lost. That there was nothing wrong in it was proved by your silence. And that is what you have come here to-day to tell me! You are a fool for your pains, John Dixon."
"I was silent," said John Dixon, "because Bob pledged me to secrecy. My intention was to expose you to the whole school, and so put an end to--what shall we call it? Robbery?"
"You would not dare to make that charge against me in public. There are no witnesses present, and you, therefore, know you are protected against an action for libel."
"You are losing sight of your compact of silence, Fox. Tiled in as we are, we can call each other what names we please, and there is no obligation upon us to be choice in our language. Pull yourself together, my little man; I have no desire to take you at a disadvantage. What do you say, now, to our agreeing that this meeting shall not be confidential, and that when we part we shall each of us be free to reveal what passes?"