"Well, yes," the other admitted, "when we were smaller. But ever since Scissors started going with the Slavin crowd I've cut him dead."
"I wish I lived as close to you as this," Paul observed. "Why, we could nearly shake hands across the gap. I don't suppose Scissors ever drops in to see you nowadays?"
"I should say not," laughed Jack; "why, we've been at swords points now for a year and more, and never even speak as we pass each other."
"Oh! well, of course then it would be silly to think of suspecting him," remarked Paul as he sat down again.
But nevertheless, many times his eyes seemed to turn toward that partly opened window, and then in the direction of the low desk where the box of coins stood.
"Scissors" Dempsey had come by his nickname because of a peculiar trick he had of keeping his knees stiff when walking. Long ago one boy had likened his long legs to a pair of scissors, and quick to take up a humorous name like this, his mates had called him nothing else in years.
"Well, it's a mighty funny thing where that bunch of old copper coins has gone to!" remarked Jack, presently, unable, it seemed, to think of anything else just then.
"I believe this den of yours is hardly ever locked," remarked Paul, presently, "and all persons can come up here whenever they choose. I've even often found your dog Carlo sleeping here. Why, if any friend calls to see you, and wants to wait till you come home, he just meanders up here as he pleases, and amuses himself looking over your books and magazines. Isn't that so, Jack?"
"Sure. My mother says this is Liberty Hall, judging from the way all my chums go and come. But what's got you now? Do you think some other chap may have fallen into the nasty habit of helping himself to my coins, either to swell out his own collection, or to sell them to Doc. Thomes?"
"Oh! hardly that, although it seems possible. But don't worry too much about it, Jack. I'm sure we'll discover the truth sooner or later."