To which the burden of Pillingshot's reply was that he would do
anything in reason, but he was blowed if he was going to cross-examine
the head-master.

"It seems to me," said Scott sadly, "that you don't _want_ to
find that sovereign. Don't you like Evans, or what is it?"

It was on the following morning, after breakfast, that the close
observer might have noticed a change in the detective's demeanour. He
no longer looked as if he were weighed down by a secret sorrow. His
manner was even jaunty.

Scott noticed it.

"What's up?" he inquired. "Got a clue?"

Pillingshot nodded.

"What is it? Let's have a look."

"Sh--h--h!" said Pillingshot mysteriously.

Scott's interest was aroused. When his fag was making tea in the
afternoon, he questioned him again.

"Out with it," he said. "What's the point of all this silent mystery
business?"

"Sherlock Holmes never gave anything away."