Harry, who was crossing the grounds at the time, turned in answer to the shouts and came towards the three boys.

"Got the flag?" he asked innocently.

"No cheek, kid, else we'll trounce you like we've just trounced your friend Plunger!" retorted Newall sharply.

"Who brought the flag back? How did it get there?"--glancing to the turret.

"Oh, it got there by a friend of yours--Paul Percival," answered Harry, hitting back. "He's beaten you, just like you've beaten my friend Plunger."

Newall scowled, and would have treated him to a taste of the swisher, only he recollected that he was Stanley's cousin.

"Be serious, Harry," said Stanley. "Percival, did you say? Do you really mean that the flag was brought back by him?"

"I am serious, Stan--never more so in my life. The flag was brought back by Percival, and put in its old place on the turret by Percival."

He then told them precisely what had happened. The three boys listened in silence. Percival had stolen a march upon them, that was quite clear.

Stanley wondered whether his note of warning had put him on his guard.

The thought that it had been of some service might have pleased Stanley, but the memory of Percival talking to Wyndham hardened his heart against him once more. He smothered the old feeling of friendship that would keep trying to a.s.sert itself, in spite of himself.

"I told you that we should have to meet craft with craft!" cried Newall, breaking the silence. "But so far Percival has beaten us. Plunger's an a.s.s, but he was quite right for once when he said that we'd have to get up very early in the morning to score off Percival. What's our next move?"

As neither Moncrief major nor Parfitt responded, Newall went on:

"We saw Percival talking to a particular friend of yours, Moncrief."

Stanley winced at the cold, cutting words. "That was a couple of hours ago. At that time the flag was not on the turret. We can all answer as to that, I think?"

Stanley and Parfitt nodded a.s.sent.

"What happens? In the interval Percival returns to Garside with the flag. Where did the flag come from? I think the answer's simple enough--it must have come into Percival's possession by the help of your particular friend, the Beetle who was so kind to you at the sand-pits, Moncrief."

Every word had its venom, and distilled its poison in the breast of Stanley.

"Well, well, what of it?" he demanded hoa.r.s.ely.

"What of it?" repeated Newall, raising his eyebrows and regarding him with feigned astonishment. "It's all clear enough, I should think. The whole business is an artfully-concocted plot between Percival and Wyndham. The flag disappears. How it disappears is a mystery. No one knows--least of all Percival. But he makes use of some high-sounding words in the presence of a few of the fellows--flag gone, by Heaven's help he'll bring it back again! The fellows cheer him to the echo. A short time elapses, during which the mystery deepens; then Percival turns up with the flag. He has kept his word. More cheers. Oh, yes, it's all clear--clear as day! Don't you think so, Moncrief?"

"One moment," answered Stanley, pa.s.sing his hand over his forehead. "I'm a bit dazed somehow. Let me understand. You believe that--that----"

"That the hand which brought back the flag is the same hand that took it away."

"Of course!" a.s.sented Parfitt. "As you say, Newall, it's as clear as day. Nothing could be clearer."

"Nothing could be clearer," echoed Stanley, as his head fell to his breast.

Harry was silent. Like his cousin, there had always been deep down in his heart a real affection and sympathy for Paul. He had always hoped that he would be able to reinstate himself in the good opinion of the school; so it was he had cheered with the rest when Paul returned with the flag. It was all very mysterious, it was true; but Harry had shut his eyes on the mystery. The flag had come back to the school. Paul had brought it. He had made good his word. That was enough. He would be again the Paul he had once known--the Paul Stanley had known and loved.

"What's to be done?" demanded Stanley.

"Well, we can't do anything to-day. Let's wait developments to-morrow.

Mr. Weevil's bound to take some sort of action."

"Oh, there you go again!" cried Stanley impatiently. "Putting things on.

Yesterday it was the same."

"How do you mean?"

"I wanted to make straight for Percival. 'No,' said you; 'don't be in a hurry. We mustn't show our hands too soon.' And so on, and so on. Oh, I'm sick of it all--sick of everything--sick of waiting!"

Harry looked up at his cousin. There was a note of pa.s.sionate revolt in his voice, a fierce light in his eyes; both hands were clenched, and he seemed to sway to and fro, as though no longer master of himself.

"For that matter, so am I," said Newall softly. "Perhaps I was wrong, Moncrief, in putting things off. I dare say I was. You gave in to me yesterday, I give in to you to-day; that's only fair. What do you want, old fellow?"

Newall placed a hand quite lovingly on Stanley's shoulder.

"Want? No more of this wretched waiting game! Let's go to Percival straight--straight! Do you hear?" came hoa.r.s.ely from Stanley's lips.

"Yes, I hear; and I am with you."

And Newall exchanged a swift smile of triumph with Parfitt.

CHAPTER XLII

UNEXPECTED TIDINGS

As soon as Paul had accomplished his purpose, and seen the flag waving in its old place on the turret, he went to the room of Mr. Weevil. He knew well enough that inquiries would be made respecting the return of the flag, and therefore he took the straightforward course of going at once to headquarters.

"Come in!" came the voice of the master in response to the knock on his door.

He was pacing to and fro the room--the same room in which Paul had seen him on that never-to-be-forgotten night with Zuker. He stopped as Paul entered, and regarded him in his usual manner--through half-closed eyes.

"You, Percival! What is it you want with me?" came the sharp answer.

"I only came to tell you that the flag is back in its old place, sir."

"I know--I know! And you brought it back, I understand? I meant inquiring into the matter. I'm glad you've forestalled me. You want to explain--eh? That's what you've come for--eh?"

"That's what I've come for, sir," answered Paul, astonished that he should have gained such speedy information as to what had happened.

Sometimes, indeed, it seemed as though those half-closed eyes not only saw further than other eyes, but that they had the faculty of double sight as well.

"And yet I don't know whether I can call it an explanation, for there are things which cannot be explained."

"Not explained? How do you mean, sir?" came the sharp answer.

"I received the flag back from a friend of mine--a proved friend--on the solemn promise that I would not make use of the information he had given me to get any of the fellows who had taken it into a sc.r.a.pe."