“I didn’t mean that, Jack; you mistook me.  Suppose I had that list, and rooting over all the little boxes he keeps his coins in for sale, found every one of the missing ones there?”

“Yes, and then what?” asked the other, greatly affected, though watching his chum’s face eagerly, as though something seemed to tell him Paul would find a way out of the difficulty, such was his faith in the other.

“Why, perhaps you might buy the whole lot back, for almost a song, and never say a word.”

A hand crept out and squeezed Paul’s warmly; and there were tears in the eyes of Jack Stormways as he made answer.

“Just like you, old fellow, to cheer me up like that.  Here, let me hunt up the list for you.  But promise that you won’t whisper one little hint to a living soul.  Oh!  Karl, how could you?”

“Hold on, don’t judge him before you know.  Believe him innocent until you find proof otherwise.  I guess you’ll learn that one of the first things a scout has to do is to believe in his brothers and friends through thick and thin, until the proof has become positive, or the guilty one confesses.  And another thing, Jack, in case the worst comes true, it’s up to us to make sure that such a miserable thing never happens again.  We must save the one in error, save him through kindness and sympathy.  How old is Karl?”

“A little over ten.”

“Too young to join the troop then, for all boys have to be twelve or over, according to the rules, I was told.  But they have younger fellows in the bunch over at Aldine, I’m sure.  One I saw strutting around in a uniform looked like a kid of eight or nine.  Never mind; I believe it’ll all come out right yet.  Perhaps some servant may have taken them?” said Paul, wishing to buoy up his chum’s spirits.

“We only have one, and she’s been with us ever since I was born.  No use thinking Maggie would touch a single thing,” declared Jack, quickly, with a shake of his head.

Paul sauntered about the room for a few minutes.  Apparently he was glancing at the numerous college pennants and other things that were upon the walls; but in reality he found himself wrestling with the strange puzzle that was giving his chum so much concern.

Presently he stood by the window, which was partly open.

“Who owns the Dempsey house now, Jack?” he asked, indicating the building next door.

“Oh! it is still for sale,” replied the other.  “They don’t want to rent it again, you know, and ever since that last party moved out of town and left things looking so bad, Mr. Dempsey has kept it closed up.”

“When he lived here, you and Scissors used to be something of chums, didn’t you?” Paul went on.

“Well, yes,” the other admitted, “when we were smaller.  But ever since Scissors started going with the Slavin crowd I’ve cut him dead.”

“I wish I lived as close to you as this,” Paul observed.  “Why, we could nearly shake hands across the gap.  I don’t suppose Scissors ever drops in to see you nowadays?”