“Gone!” exclaimed Cal. “Do you mean—” “I mean it was in my collar-box a couple of days ago and now it isn’t,” replied Ned with a shrug of his shoulders. “Somebody’s cleaned me out for fair.”
“I—I’m awfully sorry,” faltered Cal. “Are you sure it was there? Maybe you put it somewhere else, Ned.”
“Maybe a fish can fly,” answered Ned wrathfully. “I guess I know where I put it, Cal. I always keep it there. There was eight dollars exactly, a five and three ones, all folded up in a wad. It was there two days ago all right.”
“But—but who could have taken it?” asked Cal perplexedly.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” muttered Ned savagely. “If I knew, I’d wring his neck for him!”
[181]
“Have you looked all through the drawer?”
“No. What’s the use? I tell you I know it was in the collar-box.”
“Still, you might have pulled it out, maybe, when you got a collar. I’d look if I were you, Ned.”
So Ned, grumbling, looked, pulling the contents of the top drawer out and then treating the other drawers in the same manner. Afterwards he searched about the table and went through his trunk, and then, Cal egging him on, searched the pockets of his clothes. But the hunt ended fruitlessly save for a forgotten five-cent piece exhumed from the depths of a trousers pocket. This Ned threw across the room peevishly and Cal rescued it from under a bed and laid it sympathetically on the table. Ned, hands in pockets, watched him in scowling silence. Then,
“Don’t you want that too?” he exploded.
Cal looked at him in perplexity, missing the innuendo.
“What?” he asked.
Ned turned away, already regretting his question.
“Nothing,” he muttered. He pulled his chair out and seated himself at the table, drawing[182] his books toward him. “Well, it’s gone,” he said. “That’s pretty plain. Guess we’d better be thinking of studying.”
Cal took his place across the table but felt very little like studying. Eight dollars seemed a whole lot of money to Cal and I think the loss troubled him more than it did Ned. He opened his French book, but his mind, instead of applying itself to verbs, concerned itself with the problem of the missing money. Who, he wondered, could have taken it? And had it really been stolen or had Ned himself spent it and forgotten all about the circumstances? Or had Ned, in spite of his thorough search, put it somewhere else than in the collar-box? If it had been stolen suspicion must attach itself to some member of the household. That any of the fellows would do such a thing was quite out of the question. Quite as plainly, Marm was above suspicion. That left only Hulda, the maid. Hulda had been there at West House, Cal had heard, for several years, and surely she would never have kept her place had she not been honest. No, the theory of theft was hardly plausible, he decided. Ned must have spent or mislaid the money.
[183]
 
“Well, it’s gone,” said Ned
[184-
185]
He glanced up and surprised Ned observing him across the study table, and although Ned’s eyes dropped quickly back to his open book Cal had time to read the message in them. A little shiver passed up his spine and he felt the blood rushing into his face. He dropped his own gaze, feeling suddenly very miserable and lonely. It was plain enough now. Ned suspected him of stealing the money! He recalled Ned’s strange question: “Don’t you want that too?” and now he understood. He felt terribly hurt and wounded, for he had grown fond of his chum, and that Ned could suspect him of anything so mean and despicable was like a blow in the face. But he did suspect him; that was too evident. For a moment Cal wanted to spring up and declare his innocence. Surely Ned would believe him! But the tears were very near his eyes just then and so he stared at his book and sat silent.
Presently indignation began to take possession of him. What right had Ned to suspect him of being a thief? Just because he was poor and didn’t wear good clothes like the other fellows was no reason to think him a robber! He was just as decent as the rest of them, in spite of his shabby clothes! Ned thought him a thief, did he? Well, he might go on thinking[186] so for all Cal cared. Some day the money would be found, like as not, and then Ned would see what a mistake he had made. And when he did he could beg Cal’s pardon until he was black in the face, and Cal would never forgive him! Never! He was all hurt pride now, and the first and softer misery had left him. Let Ned—yes, and all the rest of them—think what they liked! They were all snobs anyway!
Cal learned very little of his lessons that evening, nor, I fancy, did Ned do much better. They were both glad when Sandy’s door banged open and he gave the signal to lay books aside. Almost simultaneously Spud demanded admittance.
“Say, Cal, can you get that algebra?” he asked as he came in and seated himself on Cal’s bed. “It’s the hardest old stuff I ever did see. What’s the matter with you chaps, anyway?” he went on, sitting up and staring at them. “Anybody dead?”
“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?”
[187]
“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.............