d-six to Mr Webster.

Dick was the only one of the three who got leave; but his two friends
considered the crisis one of such urgency that even without leave they
should brave all consequences and accompany him.

Mr Webster was in the act of putting up his shutters when the small
careworn procession halted before his door, and requested the favour of
an interview.

The bookseller was in a good temper. He had rather enjoyed the day's
adventure, and reckoned that the moral effect of his action would be
good. Besides, the looks of the culprit and his two friends fully
justified his suspicions. They had doubtless come to restore the
pencil, and plead for mercy. They should see that mercy was not kept in
stock in his shop, and would want some little trouble before it was to
be procured.

So he bade his visitors step inside, and state their business.

"We've come about the pencil, you know," said Dick, adopting a
conciliatory tone to begin with. "It's really a mistake, Webster.
Coote never took it."

"No. We've known Coote for years, and never knew him do such a thing,"
said Heathcote.

"And they've turned out every one of my pockets," said Coote, "and there
was no sign of it."

Mr Webster smiled serenely.

"Very pretty, young gentlemen; very pretty. When you have done joking,
perhaps, you'll give me what belongs to me."

"Hang it!" cried Dick, forgetting his suavity. "It's no joke, Webster.
I tell you, Coote never took the thing."

"You were here in the shop, of course, and saw him?" said the tradesman.

"No, I wasn't," said Dick; "you know that as well as I do."

"Coote," said Heathcote, feeling it his turn to back up--"Coote's a
gentleman; not a thief."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Mr Webster. "He's sure he's not both?"

"I'm positive," said Coote.

"And is that all you've come to say?" said the bookseller.

"No," said Dick. "It's an awful shame if you can't believe us. But if
you won't--well, we'd sooner pay you for the pencil and have done with
it."

Mr Webster was charmed. He had always imagined himself a sharp man and
he was sure of it now. For a minute or two the boys' joint
protestations of innocence had staggered his belief in Coote's guilt;
but this ingenuous offer convinced him he had been right after all.

"Oh, you didn't steal it, but you're going to pay for it, are you? Very
pretty! What do you think it was worth?"

"Thirty shillings," said Dick, "that was the price ma