So deeply engrossed was he in this exacting memory test that even the announcement of the inspector's coming conveyed little to his mind. Therefore, when the inspector and Dick came in, each bearing a heavy bag, he gazed at them with a lack-lustre eye, as though he imagined them to be commercial travellers arriving with samples of school books.
The inspector saluted. "Your missing property sir," he said. "Will you examine it, please, and compare it with the list made by me on the spot?"
Crash went the head-master's chair on the floor, and down amongst his manuscript went his glasses. With an almost juvenile bound he reached the bags, satisfied himself at a glance that the recovery was indeed genuine, and then turned to wring the inspector's hand effusively.
The inspector backed away as though he feared being kissed next.
"Don't thank me, sir; you owe it all to Mr. Forge here. It was he who put us on the right track."
In official phrases he gave the Head particulars of the discovery, with results that embarrassed Dick, who had never quite "hit it" with "Old Man Wykeham", and was always more or less ill-at-ease in his presence. This was not surprising, seeing that everybody knew the Head would have preferred Luke Harwood as Captain of the School.
"A thousand thanks, Forge! Oh, bless my soul, boy, where's my handkerchief—I must dab my eyes—I verily believe I am shedding tears of joy, Inspector. Forge, dear lad—I'm the happiest man in England to-day. All my precious curios are here, and with scarcely a scratch on them. What could have possessed the burglars to dump them down under the floor of that disused cottage?"
"Probably their pockets would be stuffed with stolen silver and notes, sir," the inspector suggested, "and, finding us hot on their trail, they decided to hide your coins and things till the hue and cry had died down. They'll come nosing back for 'em, sir, as sure as fate. Then we shall nab them, as we mean to leave officers concealed there day and night."
"It is all very exciting—I feel mentally upside down. Dear me, how very ungrateful you will think me, too. I was forgetting the reward. For the recovery of my collection I offered fifty pounds—a mere bagatelle compared with their value to me. Priceless treasures! My Charles the First slip-top spoons in particular—I fretted badly over those, and here they are, safe and sound. Forge, the reward is yours, and right well deserved, too. Take a seat, dear boy, while I write out your cheque."
"No, no, sir, nothing of the kind!" Dick hastened to say. "If the reward must be paid, it should go to Fluffy Jim, the half-witted village youth. But for him, the collection might not have been found. He took me straight to it."