This was an idea which now presented itself to the minds of the two gentlemen, as it had before this to the minds of the pupils. It had been started by Raymond Stewart, who had said:
"How do we know that some one else has not been meddling with that money? I do not see that it follows no one could touch it but Seabrooke or Percy."
"That would say that there was a thief among us," said another boy, indignantly.
"That's about it," answered Raymond.
The boys had looked from one to another almost in dismay. Whatever their faults and shortcomings—and some of these had been grave enough—such an idea, such an implication as this had never before presented itself to them—that there was a thief in their midst, that one of their number had been guilty of flagrant dishonesty, of an absolute theft, and that of a large sum.
"That's a nice thing for you to say," broke forth Malcolm Ainslie.
"Whom do you accuse?"
"I accuse no one," answered Raymond. "I only said such a thing might be."
But Percy and Seabrooke had both scouted the idea; no one, they both said, knew that the former had intrusted his money to Seabrooke; no one had been present at the time, and both declared that they had spoken of it to no one.
But the suspicion aroused by Raymond was not set at rest by this, and an uncomfortable atmosphere had reigned ever since, and, as has been seen, was remarked by Dr. Leacraft as soon as he returned home.
Thursday morning, and the closing day arrived, and there was a general feeling of shame and annoyance that such a cloud should be resting upon the school as its members separated even for a few days. It seemed now as if nothing could "come out," as the boys said, there was so little time for any investigation, for the pupils, none of whom lived at more than a few hours distance from Sylvandale, were to leave by the afternoon trains.