"I did not say it was Turner and Armstrong. I said I saw two boys near the door, and that it looked like these two here. One of them had something in his hand which looked like a bucket."
"Which one was that?"
"Armstrong, sir; or at least the one I took to be Armstrong."
"What time was that?"
"I think it was about a quarter past nine or perhaps a little later."
"We were just under the belfry at that hour," Jimmy snapped out. "The clock striking the quarter startled me. I remember it well." Frank nodded in approval.
"It may have been earlier," continued Dixon. "I didn't think anything much about it till after the racket in the tower. Then I remembered that I had seen some boys around the Chapel, and recalled that they looked like Turner and Armstrong."
"That will do, Dixon, you may go," said the Doctor.
When Dixon had left the room, the Doctor turned to our friends again. "You do not look like boys who would do such silly mischief as that of last night, but all these stories fit together with such nicety that I am forced to believe that you were responsible. These little things that look like jokes sometimes have a very serious result. For instance, that water which filled the bell came down and badly damaged the ceiling in the robing room on the ground floor, and, moreover, it ruined a valuable etching, a gift from one of our alumni, which hung there in that room."
"But we did not do it," said Frank, "nor did we have anything to do with it in any way, shape or manner." His voice was trembling as he spoke. Jimmy was too savage to speak, but stood glowering at the Doctor.