“How did you lose that?” And now Professor Strong’s face grew stern.
Hockley felt a certain quaking within him. It would never do to say that he had been playing cards—worse, that he had been gambling. Professor Strong had read the young travelers more than one lecture on evils of this sort.
“I—I got in a crowd and somehow I either lost the money or it was taken from me,” stammered the bully. “But please don’t tell the others,” he went on. “They’ll only have the laugh on me.”
“Just give me the details,” said Professor Strong, briefly, and then Hockley had to invent a long tale of how he had gone carriage riding down to the seashore and how, while he was getting a lunch at a restaurant, there had been a horse runaway and he had gone out to see the excitement.
“There was more of a crowd than I thought,” he continued. “I was shoved around by a policeman and a number of natives. I had been counting my money and when the excitement began I rammed it in my hip pocket. When I went back to the eating place the money was gone.”
“And what made you remain away all night?”
“It was growing dark when the runaway happened and I thought I could find the money this morning. But I didn’t find anything.”
“Humph! How about your watch and that ring you are in the habit of wearing?”
Hockley felt a certain cold chill steal over him. In his haste to smooth matters over he had forgotten about the watch and the ring.
“They—er—they got lost too,” he said, lamely, his face growing very red.