Dale closed the bag with a snap, and stood gazing up at his companion for some minutes in silence.
“This is very ugly, Saxe,” he said; “and I don’t like it.”
“But that’s it, isn’t it?” cried the boy.
“I am afraid so. I can only think you must be right, unless one of us took it.”
“Took it!” cried Saxe. “Oh, Mr Dale, you don’t think I would take it?”
“No, my lad, of course not,” cried Dale, bringing his hand down on the boy’s shoulder with a hearty slap; “but I think it’s quite likely that after the excitement of yesterday, and the remarks you made just before lying down, that you may have dreamed that the crystal was not safe, and taken it and hid it somewhere.”
“Oh, impossible!” cried the boy.
“No, quite possible; and if you have not done this, I think it is quite likely that I may. Why, Saxe, our brains were regularly crystallised last night.”
“Oh! I don’t think it’s anything to laugh at,” said the boy seriously. “It could not have been, for I was awakened by hearing some one moving about.”
“Yes; and you thought it was I.”