The head gardener went the rounds as usual that afternoon before going home to tea. The cold was severe, and his vigilance for his plants was consequently greater than ever.
As he came to the door of the greenhouse he thought he heard a slight noise within, and looked carefully about on opening the door, but could see nothing to have caused it, so thought it must have been fancy. When he examined the windows he found one of them wide open.
"Again!" he said to himself. "So that boy is as bad as the other, and must be trusted no more." He shut it, and a second time fancied he heard a noise, and listened, but all was still. When he went home he spoke more angrily to Dick than he had ever done before, and desired him not to enter the greenhouses again, since he found he could not be trusted. "Had I not gone in there," he said, "and seen that the window was left wide open, some of the choicest of the plants must have been frostbitten."
"But indeed, indeed, I shut them every one, sir," exclaimed Dick. "Some one must have gone in after me, and opened that window. Oh! it was too bad; it must have been done from spite."
"I can scarcely believe that," said the gardener. "Excuses of that sort won't help you."
"It is not an excuse, sir. Do believe me, for indeed I shut all the windows carefully."
"Maybe the lad is right," said Mrs Naylor, who was fond of Dick, and had always found him truthful. "Perhaps some one has a grudge against him, and took that way of doing him a mischief."
"Have you any reason to suppose you have an enemy?" inquired Mr Naylor.
"Yes, I have, sir," replied Dick.
"Who is it?"