“Nothing that will make ‘copy’ for you, Chambers. He got into trouble in class yesterday, and Faculty put him on probation. How did you hear of it?”
Chambers looked puzzled.
“I didn’t hear of it at all,” he replied. “I didn’t mean that. But I met him this morning with a big bag, and asked him where he was going, and he said ‘Home.’ I thought maybe there was something up, you know; somebody sick or something of that sort. Is there?”
For a moment Dan didn’t answer. He was thinking hard. Then:
“No, there’s nothing wrong at home. What he meant was that he was going down to Sound View. He took a lot of things over there to get them out of the way. The closets in Clarke are so tiny that there isn’t room for much of anything. Well, I must be getting on. Of course, you needn’t say anything about Gerald’s being on probation. He’s sort of thin-skinned, you know.”
“I won’t mention it,” answered Chambers earnestly. “Much obliged.” Dan nodded and Chambers hurried away.
For a moment Dan stood there at a loss. He had not the least doubt that Gerald had left school. He recalled his manner before breakfast, that mysterious remark of his. But he could easily make certain. He hurried across to Clarke and raced up the stairs. The top of Gerald’s chiffonier was clear of toilet articles, many of his shirts and undergarments were missing from the drawers, his suit-case was gone from the closet shelf. Dan looked at his watch, went to his top drawer and took out a little japanned tin box which he unlocked with a key on his watch chain. From the box he took a little roll of money. Placing this carefully in a vest pocket, he made his way downstairs again. Once outside he walked slowly and loiteringly to The Prospect and turned into the path leading across the railroad track and through the woods. But once out of sight of the school he broke into a trot. Where the wood paths diverged he kept to the right, and was soon hurrying along beside a high rustic fence which marked the boundary of the Pennimore estate. Presently he reached a spot where a number of the palings had been torn away. In the Fall Gerald and he had used this route to and from the school as it was much shorter than the way which led around by the roads. Dan squirmed through the hole and sped across the turf. Presently he was on the drive and the big stone residence was in front of him. The curtains were down at all the windows and the place looked utterly deserted, but he crossed the terrace and rang the bell beside the wide door. After a while the door opened and a wrinkled caretaker put her head out.
“I’m looking for Gerald,” Dan explained. “I thought maybe he was here: Is he?”
“No, sir, he ain’t here. I ain’t seen him since last week.”