“Seeing how much I know,” said he, “I hadn’t got any doubt. It was my idea that Coles was sending him down to the town to get something to drink.”
The captain of cricket and the captain of football looked at one another gravely and finally looked at Henry.
“And so,” continued Henry, looking at them modestly over the tops of his glasses, “I decided to get additional information, and I climbed up the drain-pipe and listened at Coles’ window.”
“Well?” said Terence.
“There isn’t any doubt about it at all. Coles was in there with some of his pals and they’re drinking. Young Carr’s been sent for another bottle.” There was a brief silence. “That’s isn’t quite all,” said Henry presently. “I went back to the little gates and waited for Carr to come back. I meant to take the stuff away from him and bring it to you. But—he’s never come back. I’ve waited an hour and a half. One of two things has happened. Either he’s broken the bottle and gone back for another, or else after what I told him he’s afraid to come back. Perhaps he’s run away.” Henry concluded on a low note. He was clearly distressed. “Any day now,” said he, “Mr Nicholson might make something happen. The chaps have hung together all this time and given the Head no loophole. Now this will be found out.”
It was Terence who answered first. He turned to Rouse.
“You’ve tackled Coles once,” said he. “It’s my turn. I might have better luck. I’ll go to his study and make him say where Carr’s gone.”
Rouse shook his head.
“No, it would be no use. If he’s at all tight he’d only make an unholy shindy. That’d be worse than anything. I’ll go out. I’ll see if I can’t find young Carr somewhere or other between here and the town and bring him in.”
“Why should you go?” demanded Terence. “Supposing you get caught yourself? The Head isn’t going to give you a second chance, you know. It’s asking for trouble.”