"True! that after you had killed a chicken, the owner not only presented you with it, but undertook to cook it for you?"
"Yes, sir."
Mr. West's only comment on this affirmation was a deep sigh.
Further examination failed to make Cadbury contradict himself; but to certain enquiries he politely declined to furnish an answer.
"Was any boy with you at the time who can bear witness to your story?
"Will you give me this woman's address, that I may send for her?
"How did you manage to get the chicken after it was cooked?"
Such questions as these drew forth nothing.
At length Mr. West, without expressing any opinion, passed on to the subject of the cracked window, but he could not persuade any of Hallett's room to own to the accident. He threatened, he even entreated,—in vain. The clock ticked on; it was a quarter past nine, and everyone was very tired of standing, when the enquiry was brought to an end, and sentence pronounced.
Green and another boy named Buckland were complimented on having "wisely and most properly" kept themselves and their respective rooms entirely outside the affair. Cadbury, on his own confession—"an extraordinary, and, I am bound to say, improbable tale"—was to suffer first and worst, and had the doubtful distinction of accompanying Mr. West there and then to his study. Next, the inmates of Hallett's and Trevelyan's rooms were doomed to forego supper for three days, Hallett's room being sentenced in addition to pay for the mending of the cracked pane. Lastly, and this was the part of the sentence that roused the whole school, all—boarders and day-boys alike—were to forfeit the next half-holiday.