"Would your aunt let you go over to the school with me this afternoon? I think we've spotted them."
Ernest rushed for his cap and mittens.
"Of course she would! She's out now, but I can go without asking." No explanation was needed to tell him that the "them" meant his missing skates.
"You see, I had my suspicions from the first moment," said Ben, "but I didn't dare say anything till I was sure. You know, there's one thing we never agree about, but I won't say anything until you hear for yourself."
Ernest was soon following Ben up the broad wooden stairs to the Principal's room. The master himself looked up with some interest as the boys came in.
"Yes, yes, I'll send for him at once," he said, after he had briefly welcomed them, "or, no, I'll take you to the room where he is," and before he realized where he was going Ernest found himself following Ben and the Principal into the large schoolroom, where fifty pairs of curious eyes were turned toward them.
"Brown, come here," called the master. An undersized boy, freckled, with small eyes near together, shuffled forward.
"Did you tell Jim Grey that you had found a pair of skates the day before yesterday?—answer—'yes' or 'no.'"
Not a word came from the boy, who held his head down sulkily.
"Answer—quickly—or home you go at once. Did you or did you not find a pair of skates?"