you lend him the pound?"

"I hadn't got it to lend," replied Oliver, "the last lot had completely
cleared me out."

"There is one other question I want to ask you, Greenfield," said the
Doctor, fidgeting with the paper in his hand. "How long do you suppose
this has been going on?"

"I don't know, sir--but should think for some time."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because," replied Oliver--and there was no help for it--"because at the
time I spoke to you about the scrape my young brother got into at the
lock, last autumn, Loman was very thick with Cripps."

"Indeed? That was just before the Nightingale examination, was it not?"

"Yes, sir," said Oliver, beginning to feel the ground very uncomfortable
all round. Here he was telling tales right and left, and no help for
it. Surely the Doctor was carrying it a little too far.

"Do you suppose Loman was in debt at that time?"

"I have no idea," replied the boy, wondering whatever that had to do
with Loman's disappearance now.

"You wonder why I ask this question," said the Doctor, apparently
reading the boy's thoughts. "This letter will explain. I will read it
to you, as you may be able to throw some light on it. I received it
just now. It is from Cripps."

"Hon. Sir,--I take the liberty of informing you that one of your young
gents, which his name is Mister Loman, is a prig. He's been a regular
down at my shop this twelve month, and never paid a farthing for his
liquor. More than that, he's been a-drawing money from me up to
thirty-five pounds, which I've got his promissory note due last
Micklemas. He said he was a-going to get a Nightingale or something
then that would pay it all off, and I was flat enough to believe him.
If that ain't enough, he's a-been and played me nicely over a rod I sold
him. I might have persecuted him over that job but I didn't. He
cracked it to rights, and then tries to pass it back on me for same as
when he got it, and if I hadn't a-been a bit sharper nor some folk I
should have been clean done. This is to tell you I ain't a-going to
stand it no longer, and if I don't get my money there'll be a rumpus up
at the school which won't be pleasant for none of you. So the shortest
cut is to send on the money sharp to your humble servant, Ben Cripps.

"P.S.--I've wrote and told the young swell I've put you on the job."

"It is evident," said Mr Rastle, "this letter has something to do with
Loman's disappearance."

"Yes," s