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"Just where you're standing," he said, "I found a photograph of Sir Henry Irving so slashed about that I thought at first it was Huntley Wright in _San Toy_."
"Start at two-thirty sharp," said Trevor.
"I had seventeen of Edna May," continued the stricken Seymourite, monotonously. "In various att.i.tudes. All destroyed."
"On the first fifteen ground, of course," said Trevor. "I'll get Aldridge to referee. That'll suit you, I suppose?"
"All right. Anything you like. Just by the fireplace I found the remains of Arthur Roberts in _H.M.S. Irresponsible_. And part of Seymour Hicks. Under the table--"
Trevor departed.
XIV
THE WHITE FIGURE
"Suppose," said s...o...b..ossom to Barry, as they were walking over to school on the morning following the day on which Milton's study had pa.s.sed through the hands of the League, "suppose you thought somebody had done something, but you weren't quite certain who, but you knew it was some one, what would you do?"
"What on _earth_ do you mean?" inquired Barry.
"I was trying to make an A.B. case of it," explained s...o...b..ossom.
"What's an A.B. case?"
"I don't know," admitted s...o...b..ossom, frankly. "But it comes in a book of Stevenson's. I think it must mean a sort of case where you call everyone A. and B. and don't tell their names."
"Well, go ahead."
"It's about Milton's study."
"What! what about it?"
"Well, you see, the night it was ragged I was sitting in my study with a dark lantern--"
"What!"
s...o...b..ossom proceeded to relate the moving narrative of his night-walking adventure. He dwelt movingly on his state of mind when standing behind the door, waiting for Mr Seymour to come in and find him. He related with appropriate force the hair-raising episode of the weird white figure. And then he came to the conclusions he had since drawn (in calmer moments) from that apparition's movements.
"You see," he said, "I saw it coming out of Milton's study, and that must have been about the time the study was ragged. And it went into Rigby's dorm. So it must have been a chap in that dorm, who did it."
s...o...b..ossom was quite clever at rare intervals. Even Barry, whose belief in his sanity was of the smallest, was compelled to admit that here, at any rate, he was talking sense.
"What would you do?" asked s...o...b..ossom.
"Tell Milton, of course," said Barry.
"But he'd give me beans for being out of the dorm, after lights-out."
This was a distinct point to be considered. The att.i.tude of Barry towards Milton was different from that of s...o...b..ossom. Barry regarded him--through having played with him in important matches--as a good sort of fellow who had always behaved decently to him. Leather-Twigg, on the other hand, looked on him with undisguised apprehension, as one in authority who would give him lines the first time he came into contact with him, and cane him if he ever did it again. He had a decided disinclination to see Milton on any pretext whatever.
"Suppose I tell him?" suggested Barry.
"You'll keep my name dark?" said s...o...b..ossom, alarmed.
Barry said he would make an A.B. case of it.
After school he went to Milton's study, and found him still brooding over its departed glories.
"I say, Milton, can I speak to you for a second?"
"Hullo, Barry. Come in."
Barry came in.
"I had forty-three photographs," began Milton, without preamble. "All destroyed. And I've no money to buy any more. I had seventeen of Edna May."
Barry, feeling that he was expected to say something, said, "By Jove!
Really?"
"In various positions," continued Milton. "All ruined."
"Not really?" said Barry.
"There was one of Little Tich--"
But Barry felt unequal to playing the part of chorus any longer. It was all very thrilling, but, if Milton was going to run through the entire list of his destroyed photographs, life would be too short for conversation on any other topic.
"I say, Milton," he said, "it was about that that I came. I'm sorry--"
Milton sat up.
"It wasn't you who did this, was it?"
"No, no," said Barry, hastily.
"Oh, I thought from your saying you were sorry--"
"I was going to say I thought I could put you on the track of the chap who did do it--"
For the second time since the interview began Milton sat up.
"Go on," he said.
"--But I'm sorry I can't give you the name of the fellow who told me about it."