Dick remained very subdued throughout the next day; his head was full of the oppressive secret, and he had no heart for new enterprises.  At school his mates found him taciturn and uncompanionable, and Joel Ham was astonished at his obedience and industry.  Harry Hardy returned home on the Wednesday evening, and visited Mrs. Haddon’s kitchen that night.  His head was swathed in bandages, and he was pale and hollow-eyed.  Dick felt strange towards his friend and shrank from conversation with him, but listened eagerly when Harry described his experiences in the mine on the night of the attack.

‘I’d stopped the pump for a spell,’ he said, ‘an’ presently thought I heard sounds like someone working in the ‘T’ drive.  I crept quietly to the mouth of the drive, an’ could see a man with a candle crouched down at work on the floor.  I was making towards him when another darted out of the darkness beside me, an’ brought me a fearful lick on the head.  I staggered back into the main drive an’ had a sort o’ confused idea of running feet an’ loud voices, an’ then came another welt an’ over I went.  They must have dragged me up above the water level, an’ I ought to thank them for that, I s’pose.’

‘An’ you couldn’t recognise either of them?’ asked Mrs. Haddon.

‘No, I haven’t the slightest notion who it was hit me, an’ the figure of the other was just visible an’ no more.  I could swear to nothing except this.’  He touched his head and smiled.

‘The cowardly wretches!’ cried Mrs. Haddon, her bosom swelling with indignation.

‘They’re all that,’ said Harry, ’but this is something to be grateful for.  Can’t you see what it means?  It means that everyone is ready to believe Frank’s story now, an’ a broken head’s worth having at that price, ain’t it?’

‘You’re a good fellow, Harry,’ said the little widow softly.  ’Do you think they might let Frank go now?

’No, worse luck, not without further evidence; but the company’ll probably go in for a big hunt, an’ that may be the saving of him.’

This latter piece of news gave Dick further cause for agitation, and his mother’s distress grew with his deepening melancholy.  She was alarmed for his health, and had been trying ever since the return from Yarraman to induce him to drink copious draughts of her favorite specific, camomile tea, but without success; the boy knew of no ailment and could imagine none that would not be preferable to camomile tea taken in large doses.

On the following morning at about eleven o’clock a visitor called upon Mr. Joel Ham at the school, a slightly-built skinny man in a drab suit.  He carried a small parcel, and this he opened on the master’s desk as he talked in a slow sleepy way, the sleepiness accented by his inability to lift his eyelids like other people, so that they hung drowsily, almost veiling the eyes.  After a few minutes Joel stepped forward and addressed the Fifth Class: