"Look underneath," said Chub.
Roy looked.
And the next instant he had his crimson sweater in his hands and was looking bewilderedly from it to Chub and from Chub to Jack and so back again at the sweater. Chub and Jack were grinning like satyrs and enjoying hugely his bewilderment.
"How—how'd it get there?" whispered Roy finally.
"Put it into your trunk and come on out," said Chub. "We've got something to tell you."
Roy found his key and unlocked the trunk. But in the act of laying the sweater away he paused and drew back. Under one shoulder was a long rip where the stitches had given way.
"I—I think I'll take it over to Mrs. Emery," he said, "and get her to mend it. That's a beast of a hole!"
"All right," said Jack. "Come on."
So they took the precious garment over to the Cottage, and as they went Chub—Jack assisting—explained.
"It was Harry's scheme, Roy. She told her mother and Mrs. Emery got the Doctor to issue that order about having the fellows unlock their trunks. But Harry knew that if Horace had the sweater he'd try and get rid of it before the examination. So she told Jack and me to come up here right after breakfast and hide where we could see what was doing. Well, we did. We got under Gallup's bed where he couldn't see us and waited. We hadn't been there five minutes before up comes little Horace. He looked around mighty carefully, you bet, and then he unlocked his trunk, dug down to the bottom of it and pulled out the sweater. Jack nearly whooped when he saw it!"