Cook's was a shop in the town to which the school most resorted when in need of refreshment.
"Wonder if we shall meet Albert."
Linton licked the place where his tooth should have been, and said he hoped so.
Sergeant Cook, the six-foot proprietor of the shop, was examining a broken window when they arrived, and muttering to himself.
"Hullo!" said Dunstable, "what's this? New idea for ventilation? Golly, massa, who frew dat brick?"
"Done it at ar-parse six last night, he did," said Sergeant Cook, "the red-'eaded young scallywag. Ketch 'im—I'll give 'im—"
"Sounds like dear old Albert," said Linton. "Who did it, sergeant?"
"Red-headed young mongrel. 'Good old Pedder,' he says. 'I'll give you Pedder,' I says. Then bang it comes right on top of the muffins, and when I doubled out after 'im 'e'd gone."
Mrs Cook appeared and corroborated witness's evidence. Dunstable ordered tea.
"We may meet him on our way home," said Linton. "If we do, I'll give him something from you with your love. I owe him a lot for myself."