"Perhaps if the cork wasn't in the bottle the spirit had evaporated," suggested Elsie.
"I don't think it would do that," replied her mother, laughing. "I'm rather inclined to think that it evaporated into the lamp of somebody's steam engine."
"No, it didn't!" cried Guy. "Look here, mother; you might as well believe a fellow when he tells you the truth."
"Well, if you tell me you didn't take it," replied Mrs. Ormond, "I must believe you. All I can say is, it's very strange."
The meal over, the boys and girls retired to the breakfast-room; and there, seated at the usual places round the table, they began to prepare their work for the following day.
"Guy," said Ida suddenly, "are you sure you were telling the truth about that methylated spirit?"
"Of course I was! D'you think I'd lie?"
"You do tell crams sometimes," put in Elsie, who was not going to see her brother pose as an angel of light without having a word to say.
"Shut up, Elsie! I tell you I haven't been near the bottle. It's weeks since I last worked the engine.—Isn't it, Brian?"
Brian looked up from his book. "Yes," he answered. "It's a month, I should say. There was something wrong with the cylinder, and Cole put it right."