“Too bad about your trophies; wasn’t it,” added Phil.
“Rotten!” conceded Dave. “Some of them were old timers, too.”
“I—er—I understand that you lads were the first to discover the loss,” put in Harry Cedstrom, one of the new students at Boxer Hall, and a member of the crew. There was a strange emphasis on the word “first.”
“The first to discover it—what do you mean?” asked Frank Simpson, bristling up.
“I mean that you were first at the wrecked boat that had held the box of jewelry,” went on Harry, while some of his companions nudged him to keep him quiet.
“We happened to be there,” admitted Frank, in a quiet voice that, to his friends, always presaged an outburst of righteous indignation. “We saw the wrecked boat, and called the attention of the owner to it. We went back with him, and then he told us his loss. That’s how we happened to be the first, after Mr. Farson himself.”
“Oh, I see,” spoke Harry. “Then you were at the boat before he was?”
“Cut it out; can’t you?” demanded Dave of his friend, in a hoarse whisper.
“Yes,” said Frank quietly, “we were there before Mr. Farson,” and he looked the other student straight in the eyes.
“And you didn’t see anything of our cups?”