“Here is a translation, sir,” said Jack, suddenly, when he came to the bottom of his desk, “but I need not tell you that it does not belong to me. It is a Cæsar.”
“Sheldon has been out of Cæsar all this term,” exclaimed Percival. “It is absurd to think that the pony——”
“Might it have belonged to you at some time, Sheldon?” asked the doctor, not noticing Dick’s interruption. “I do not say that it did, you understand.”
“No, sir, it might not. I never used a translation in my life and never will!”
Jack was hurriedly examining the book as he spoke and now noticed that the fly leaf was torn out, evidently in haste, the edges being ragged and a bit of writing on one of them.
“This bo——” was on one line and “erty of” on the next.
“I give you my word of honor, Doctor, that this is not my property,” said Jack, “but I would like to keep it for the present,” and he put the little book in his pocket.
“Very well, Sheldon,” said Dr. Wise. “You are clearly exonerated from this charge.”
“But Jack has something up his sleeve as well as in his pocket, believe me,” whispered Billy Manners to Arthur.