“Nothing’s the matter,” answered Ned shortly.
“Ned’s lost some money out of his bureau drawer,” said Cal.
“Lost it! How could you lose it? How much was it?”
“Eight dollars,” replied Ned.
“Phew! That’s some money, isn’t it? How did you lose it, Ned?”
“How the dickens do I know?” asked Ned grumpily. “All I know is that it was there a couple of days ago and now it’s gone.”
Hoop and Dutch had walked in meanwhile and for their benefit the tale of Ned’s loss had to be retold. In a minute or two the whole of West House was in possession of the news and the eight boys sat around the Den and speculated as to the manner of the money’s disappearance. Cal was rather silent. Since Ned suspected him, he thought, the others would too. As a matter of fact, none of them did, but he didn’t know that. It seemed to him that every careless glance in his direction held accusation.
“Who knew it was there?” asked Sandy, unconsciously trying to look like the pictures of Sherlock Holmes.
“No one except me.”