ary measure orders were given to the juniors
that no word about the Clintons' absence was to be said outside the
house.

After tea was over Rupert went up to Pinkerton.

"Pinkerton, I should like to have a talk with you and Easton and two or
three others--Skinner, and Mossop, and Templer--yes, and Scudamore."

"Just as you like, Clinton. Of course if you like to tell us anything we
shall be glad to hear it, but we all know that your brother was not the
sort of fellow to get into any dishonourable sort of scrape, and I can
promise you we shall ask no questions if you would rather keep the
matter altogether to yourself."

"No, I would rather tell you," Rupert said. "I know none of you would
think that Edgar would have done anything wrong, but all sorts of
stories are certain to go about, and I would rather that the truth of
the matter were known. You are the six head fellows of the house, and
when I have told you the story you can do as you like about its going
further."

"Well, if you go up to my study," Pinkerton said, "I will bring the
others up."

In three or four minutes the party were gathered there.

"Look here, Clinton," Easton said, "Pinkerton says he has told you that
we are all sure that, whatever this is all about, your brother has done
nothing he or you need be ashamed about. I should like to say the same
thing, and if it is painful for you to tell it do not say anything about
it. We shall be quite content to know that he has left, if he has
left--although I hope we shall see him again next term for some good
reason or other."

"No, I would rather tell it," Rupert said. "It is a curious story, and a
very unpleasant one for us, but there is nothing at all for us to be
ashamed about." And he went on to tell them the whole story, ending with
"You see, whether Edgar or I am the son of Captain Clinton, or of this
sergeant and his scheming wife, is more than we can say."

"It does not matter a bit to us," Easton said, breaking the silence of
surprise with which they had listened to the story. "We like you and
your brother for yourselves, and it does not matter a rap to us, nor as
far as I can see to anyone else, who your fathers and mothers were."

"I call it horribly hard lines for you both," Skinner put in; "deuced
hard lines, especially for your brother."

Pinkerton said: "By what you say Captain Clinton and his wife don't care
now which is their real son; one is real and the other adopted, and as