The Crimson Sweater Part 33

"If he took the sweater I'll bet he's thrown it away," said Roy sorrowfully. "He wouldn't be likely to bring it back again."

"Why not? He found the trunk unlocked and maybe thought he could put it back again without anyone knowing anything about it. See? That's just about what happened, Roy. I'll bet he did the whole thing to get you in trouble."

"Wasn't Tom in the dormitory when we got there?"

"Yes."

"Then maybe he was there when Horace got back; and Horace couldn't get at my trunk without being seen."

"What do you suppose he'd do with it?" asked Chub.

Roy shook his head.

"Put it in his own trunk maybe," he answered.

"Come on," said Chub.

Back to the Senior Dormitory they hurried, for each of them had an examination at two and it was almost that hour now. The dormitory was empty and Chub stood guard at the head of the stairs while Roy crossed the room and examined Horace's trunk.

"Locked," he announced softly.

Chub joined him and they stood for a moment looking at the trunk as though striving to get an X-ray view of its contents.

"Maybe we could find a key to fit it," whispered Chub.

"I wouldn't like to do that," answered Roy, shaking his head.

"No more would I," answered Chub, "but I'd do it if I was just a little more certain that the thing was in there. I'd like to bust it open with an axe," he added savagely.

Then the two o'clock bell rang and they hurried downstairs.

"Keep mum about it," said Chub, "and we'll get to the bottom of it yet."

"The trunk?" asked Roy with a weak effort at humor.

"You bet!" was the answer.

Roy watched practice that afternoon. He stood on the school side of the hedge which marked inner bounds and, out of sight himself, saw Patten playing on first. It was lonely work and after a while the figures on the green diamond grew blurred and misty. Then, suddenly, Brother Laurence's advice came back to him and Roy brushed the back of his hand across his eyes and turned away.

"'When you're down on your luck,'" he murmured, "'Grin as hard as you can grin.'"

So he tried his best to grin, and made rather a sorry affair of it until he spied Harry walking toward the tennis courts with her racket in hand.

He hailed her and she waited for him to come up.

"I'm awfully sorry, Roy," she greeted him. "I told dad you didn't do it."

"And he believed you at once," said Roy despondently.

[Ill.u.s.tration:"'When you're down on your luck,' he murmured, 'grin as hard as you can grin.'"]

"N-no, he didn't," answered Harry. "He--he's a little bit stupid sometimes; I often tell him so."

Roy laughed in spite of his sorrow.

"What does he say then?" he asked.

"Oh, he just smiles," answered Harry resentfully. "I hate people to smile at you when they ought to answer, don't you?"

Roy supposed he did. And then, in another minute, they were side by side on the stone coping about the stable yard and Roy was telling Harry everything, even to the examining of Horace's trunk and the reason for it.

"That's it!" cried Harry with the utmost conviction. "He did it! I know he did!"

"How do you know it?" asked Roy.

"Oh, I just do! I don't care if he is my cousin; he's as mean--!"

"Well, suspecting him won't do any good," said Roy. "We can't see into the trunk. And, anyhow, maybe he didn't bring the sweater back at all."

"Yes, he did too," answered Harry. "Don't you see he'd want to put it back again so that you couldn't say that someone had taken it and worn it? It's there, in his trunk."

"And I guess it'll stay there," said Roy hopelessly. "He won't be fool enough to take it out now."

"Couldn't you make him open his trunk?"

"I don't see how. I couldn't go and tell him I suspected him of having stolen my sweater; not without more proof than I've got now."

"I suppose not," answered Harry thoughtfully, her chin in her hand and the heel of one small shoe beating a restless tattoo on the wall. "You might--" she lowered her voice and looked about guiltily--"you might break it open!"

"And supposing it wasn't there?"

"But it is there!" cried Harry. "I know it is!"

"Wish I did," grunted Roy.

"Well, we'll just have to think of a way," said Harry presently, arousing herself from her reverie. "And now I must go on, because I promised to play tennis with Jack Rogers. I'm sorry."

"That's all right," answered Roy. "I--I've got some studying to do, anyhow."

Harry turned upon him with alarm in her face.

"Now don't you go doing anything desperate, Roy Porter!" she commanded.

"You just sit still and hold tight and--and it'll come out all right.

You leave it to me!"

CHAPTER XXIV