"He was on the outlook for the chicken, you remember. Of course he must have known all about it. Cadbury can confirm that."
"Can, but you don't know Cadbury if you think he will. What I say is, ask the young sneak himself. Put it to him straight, and let's see that we get the truth. Why, we should never have lost our half if he had owned up with Cadbury."
"And it's so jolly rough on Cadbury too! Why should one be licked and not the other?"
"Oh, we'll see to the other if necessary. But let's hear what he says for himself. By the way, where is he?"
Where indeed? A careful search revealed the hapless Grey huddled up in the book-room, terrified and miserable.
"Here he is! Hoping to be taken for the Treasury of Knowledge," cried his discoverer, and straightway dragged him into the light. There was a rush to the book-room.
Grey was put to the question, failed to clear himself, found guilty—and licked.
Jack Brady was the centre of another group, which seemed inclined to be angry with him.
"Brady's no business to have his supper stopped," said Trevelyan. "He never touched a morsel of that wretched fowl."
"He ought to have told West so."