“You do? Where is it? You haven’t got it still, I hope!”
“It’s best for you not to know, Jimmy,” replied Monty gravely. “What you don’t know won’t hurt you.”
“Well, all right, but, for the love of lemons, Monty, get rid of it if you have it! If it got found on you—or in your room—or anywhere—” Jimmy was quite breathless.
“I’d have to look up another school, eh? Why is it, Jimmy, that Fate knocks me around the way it does? I want to lead a quiet and peaceful life, but I’m not let. I’m a regular tumble-weed. Look at the way things happened at Dunning.”
“But you told us you deliberately fired yourself, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but why? I was bored, just as I was last night. I needed excitement, and there wasn’t any, and so, of course, I had to find it. But it isn’t my fault, is it? I guess it’s my evil genius,” said Monty sadly. “The real A Monty Crail is a quiet, peace-loving hombre, but——”
Jimmy laughed. “The trouble with you, old scout, is that you need more room than you get at prep school. You’re a child of the boundless west, eh, what?”
“Maybe. Anyhow, I’ve had a good time so far. I’d be sorry to lose football, though. Look here, how’s Old Whiskers going to fasten the childish prank on me as long as you and Bixby keep your ears down?”
“I’m hoping he won’t,” said Jimmy. “But he’s a determined old codger, and if there’s any sort of a clue he will find it as sure as shooting. At that, though, you might not get anything more than probation.”
“What’s that do to you?” asked Monty anxiously.