Chapter 21 In Which An Episode Is Closed

    "Thanks," said Fenn.

　　He stood twirling the cap round in his hand as Spencer closed thedoor. Then he threw it on to the table. He did not feel particularlydisturbed at the thought of the interview that was to come. He hadbeen expecting the cap to turn up, like the corpse of Eugene Aram'svictim, at some inconvenient moment. It was a pity that it had comejust as things looked as if they might be made more or less tolerablein Kay's. He had been looking forward with a grim pleasure to thesensation that would be caused in the house when it became known thathe and Kennedy had formed a combine for its moral and physicalbenefit. But that was all over. He would be sacked, beyond a doubt. Inthe history of Eckleton, as far as he knew it, there had never been acase of a fellow breaking out at night and not being expelled when hewas caught. It was one of the cardinal sins in the school code. Therehad been the case of Peter Brown, which his brother had mentioned inhis letter. And in his own time he had seen three men vanish fromEckleton for the same offence. He did not flatter himself that hisrecord at the school was so good as to make it likely that theauthorities would stretch a point in his favour.

　　"So long, Kennedy," he said. "You'll be here when I get back, Isuppose?""What does he want you for, do you think?" asked Kennedy, stretchinghimself, with a yawn. It never struck him that Fenn could be in anyserious trouble. Fenn was a prefect; and when the headmaster sent fora prefect, it was generally to tell him that he had got a splitinfinitive in his English Essay that week.

　　"Glad I'm not you," he added, as a gust of wind rattled the sash, andthe rain dashed against the pane. "Beastly evening to have to go out.""It isn't the rain I mind," said Fenn; "it's what's going to happenwhen I get indoors again," and refused to explain further. There wouldbe plenty of time to tell Kennedy the whole story when he returned. Itwas better not to keep the headmaster waiting.

　　The first thing he noticed on reaching the School House was thestrange demeanour of the butler. Whenever Fenn had had occasion tocall on the headmaster hitherto, Watson had admitted him with the airof a high priest leading a devotee to a shrine of which he was thesole managing director. This evening he seemed restless, excited.

　　"Good evening, Mr Fenn," he said. "This way, sir."Those were his actual words. Fenn had not known for certain until nowthat he _could_ talk. On previous occasions their conversationshad been limited to an "Is the headmaster in?" from Fenn, and astately inclination of the head from Watson. The man was getting apositive babbler.

　　With an eager, springy step, distantly reminiscent of a shopwalkerheading a procession of customers, with a touch of the style of thewinner in a walking-race to Brighton, the once slow-moving butler ledthe way to the headmaster's study.

　　For the first time since he started out, Fenn was conscious of atremor. There is something about a closed door, behind which somebodyis waiting to receive one, which appeals to the imagination,especially if the ensuing meeting is likely to be an unpleasant one.

　　"Ah, Fenn," said the headmaster. "Come in."Fenn wondered. It was not in this tone of voice that the Head was wontto begin a conversation which was going to prove painful.

　　"You've got your cap, Fenn? I gave it to a small boy in your house totake to you.""Yes, sir."He had given up all hope of understanding the Head's line of action.

　　Unless he was playing a deep game, and intended to flash out suddenlywith a keen question which it would be impossible to parry, thereseemed nothing to account for the strange absence of anything unusualin his manner. He referred to the cap as if he had borrowed it fromFenn, and had returned it by bearer, hoping that its loss had notinconvenienced him at all.

　　"I daresay," continued the Head, "that you are wondering how it cameinto my possession. You missed it, of course?""Very much, sir," said Fenn, with perfect truth.

　　"It has just been brought to my house, together with a great manyother things, more valuable, perhaps,"--here he smiled ahead-magisterial smile--"by a policeman from Eckleton."Fenn was still unequal to the intellectual pressure of theconversation. He could understand, in a vague way, that for someunexplained reason things were going well for him, but beyond that hismind was in a whirl.

　　"You will remember the unfortunate burglary of Mr Kay's house andmine. Your cap was returned with the rest of the stolen property.""Just so," thought Fenn. "The rest of the stolen property? Exactly.

　　_Go_ on. Don't mind me. I shall begin to understand soon, Isuppose."He condensed these thoughts into the verbal reply, "Yes, sir.""I sent for you to identify your own property. I see there is a silvercup belonging to you. Perhaps there are also other articles. Go andsee. You will find them on that table. They are in a hopeless state ofconfusion, having been conveyed here in a sack. Fortunately, nothingis broken."He was thinking of certain valuables belonging to himself which hadbeen abstracted from his drawing-room on the occasion of the burglar'svisit to the School House.

　　Fenn crossed the room, and began to inspect the table indicated. On itwas as mixed a collection of valuable and useless articles as onecould wish to see. He saw his cup at once, and attached himself to it.

　　But of all the other exhibits in this private collection, he couldrecognise nothing else as his property.

　　"There is nothing of mine here except the cup, sir," he said.

　　"Ah. Then that is all, I think. You are going back to Mr Kay's. Thenplease send Kennedy to me. Good night, Fenn.""Good night, sir."Even now Fenn could not understand it. The more he thought it over,the more his brain reeled. He could grasp the fact that his cap andhis cup were safe again, and that there was evidently going to be nosacking for the moment. But how it had all happened, and how thepolice had got hold of his cap, and why they had returned it with theloot gathered in by the burglar who had visited Kay's and the SchoolHouse, were problems which, he had to confess, were beyond him.

　　He walked to Kay's through the rain with the cup under his mackintosh,and freely admitted to himself that there were things in heaven andearth--and particularly earth--which no fellow could understand.

　　"I don't know," he said, when Kennedy pressed for an explanation ofthe reappearance of the cup. "It's no good asking me. I'm going now toborrow the matron's smelling-salts: I feel faint. After that I shallwrap a wet towel round my head, and begin to think it out. Meanwhile,you're to go over to the Head. He's had enough of me, and he wants tohave a look at you.""Me?" said Kennedy. "Why?""Now, is it any good asking _me?_?" said Fenn. "If you can findout what it's all about, I'll thank you if you'll come and tell me."Ten minutes later Kennedy returned. He carried a watch and chain.

　　"I couldn't think what had happened to my watch," he said. "I missedit on the day after that burglary here, but I never thought ofthinking it had been collared by a professional. I thought I must havelost it somewhere.""Well, have you grasped what's been happening?""I've grasped my ticker, which is good enough for me. Half a second.

　　The old man wants to see the rest of the prefects. He's going to workthrough the house in batches, instead of man by man. I'll just go roundthe studies and rout them out, and then I'll come back and explain. It'sperfectly simple.""Glad you think so," said Fenn.

　　Kennedy went and returned.

　　"Now," he said, subsiding into a deck-chair, "what is it you don'tunderstand?""I don't understand anything. Begin at the beginning.""I got the yarn from the butler--what's his name?""Those who know him well enough to venture to give him a name--I'venever dared to myself--call him Watson," said Fenn.

　　"I got the yarn from Watson. He was as excited as anything about it. Inever saw him like that before.""I noticed something queer about him.""He's awfully bucked, and is doing the Ancient Mariner business allover the place. Wants to tell the story to everyone he sees.""Well, suppose you follow his example. I want to hear about it.""Well, it seems that the police have been watching a house at thecorner of the High Street for some time--what's up?""Nothing. Go on.""But you said, 'By Jove!'""Well, why shouldn't I say 'By Jove'? When you are telling sensationalyarns, it's my duty to say something of the sort. Buck along.""It's a house not far from the Town Hall, at the corner of PegwellStreet--you've probably been there scores of times.""Once or twice, perhaps," said Fenn. "Well?""About a month ago two suspicious-looking bounders went to live there.

　　Watson says their faces were enough to hang them. Anyhow, they musthave been pretty bad, for they made even the Eckleton police, who arepretty average-sized rotters, suspicious, and they kept an eye onthem. Well, after a bit there began to be a regular epidemic ofburglary round about here. Watson says half the houses round werebroken into. The police thought it was getting a bit too thick, butthey didn't like to raid the house without some jolly good evidencethat these two men were the burglars, so they lay low and waited tillthey should give them a decent excuse for jumping on them. They hadhad a detective chap down from London, by the way, to see if hecouldn't do something about the burglaries, and he kept his eye onthem, too.""They had quite a gallery. Didn't they notice any of the eyes?""No. Then after a bit one of them nipped off to London with a big bag.

　　The detective chap was after him like a shot. He followed him from thestation, saw him get into a cab, got into another himself, and stuckto him hard. The front cab stopped at about a dozen pawnbrokers'

　　shops. The detective Johnny took the names and addresses, and hung onto the burglar man all day, and finally saw him return to the station,where he caught a train back to Eckleton. Directly he had seen himoff, the detective got into a cab, called on the dozen pawnbrokers,showed his card, with 'Scotland Yard' on it, I suppose, and asked tosee what the other chap had pawned. He identified every single thingas something that had been collared from one of the houses roundEckleton way. So he came back here, told the police, and they raidedthe house, and there they found stacks of loot of all descriptions.""Including my cap," said Fenn, thoughtfully. "I see now.""Rummy the man thinking it worth his while to take an old cap," saidKennedy.

　　"Very," said Fenn. "But it's been a rum business all along."