“Well, they must be found. If they are implicated in this affair at the Third Ridge shanty I shall deal with them severely. Fine boys, too! it’s a great shame.... Maclaren and Cummings are waiting in my study; I will go and give them this clue.”
“If you like, sir, I will go for you, and go with them.”
“I would be obliged if you would. In that case, I will remain here until your return.”
Morris put on his great coat and boots and started out, while the Doctor settled himself before the fire with a book. A little later the master with the two prefects whom he had found at the Rectory, set out for Lovel’s Woods.
Early in the evening Thorndyke, who was a member of the crowd that frequented the shanty, had got wind of Maclaren’s discovery through Lawrence Cumming’s indiscreet confidences, and had hastened to the rendezvous—the stone bridge by the Red Farm below Deal Hill—and had warned his companions. They had quietly returned to their dormitories; indeed, while the Head Master and Morris had been talking in the latter’s study, Carroll had softly stolen upstairs, slipped into his room, and quietly got into bed.
Our other friends, following Kit’s ardent but injudicious leadership, were making a detour to the north on their way to their cave with an intention of taking a peep at the nefarious doings at the shanty.
It was a long walk, and a cold one. Tony and Jimmie had little heart for it, but the irrepressible Kit led them gaily on. They skirted Beaver Pond, threaded their way along the ridges over familiar paths, and at last debouched upon the little clearing in which the abandoned shanty was situated. On every side stretched the thick woods, traversable only by those who knew their devious paths. To the east of the shanty the ridge ended abruptly, there was a sheer descent, and over the tops of the trees on the hillside one could get a splendid view of the distant ocean, the Neck, and Deigr Island beyond the point, with its light faithfully blinking red and white.
“No one about,” exclaimed Kit, peering in at a dark window; “what a lark!”
“Now that we’re here,” said Jimmie. “I’m for investigating.”
“By Jove! the window’s unfastened!” cried Kit, already tugging at the sash. In a moment he had it up, and disappeared over the window-sill. He struck a match inside and his companions could see him moving about. Presently he found a candle, lighted it, and set it on the table. “Come on in,” he called. “Here’s a rummy old pack of cards.” And he kicked the deck of cards across the room.