“About half a quire.”
“About half a quire; then, I suppose, you do not know whether any of that paper was taken while you were away?”
“No, I do not,” replied Hamilton. “If any one changed it, it must have been then; as, after I came home, it was locked up in my own writing-desk till Saturday evening.”
“It might have been changed on the way,” suggested Mr. James.
Hamilton was silent for a few seconds, when he answered:
“I do not think so; for I am sure this is my writing: I must unwittingly have directed an empty packet.”
“Unless,” said Dr. Wilkinson, quietly, “some one has imitated your writing?”
“I only know one who could,” replied Hamilton, coloring; “and, I am confident, he was not the party: besides, sir, I do not think there was time, between Norman's departure and his return, to have done it, and that was the only time any one would have had after I had directed it. I did not direct it till Saturday evening.”
“But you said the boys were all out at the same time with yourself; and, in fact, I know they were: I saw them going in as we turned into the playground,” said Dr. Wilkinson. “Did no one stay at home? Stay—Friday—Digby was at home; I remember he pleaded his cold.”
Dr. Wilkinson looked down on the paper he held: there was a strong expression of suspicion in his countenance. The other gentlemen exchanged looks, and Mr. James remarked, that he considered Frank the probable culprit.