luted. For aught he knew any one of these grinning imps--
confound 'em!--might be implicated in the plot. The townsmen gave
him 'good-morning' as usual, and yet not quite as usual. He felt
that news of the raid had won abroad; that, although shy of speaking,
they were studying his face for a sign. He kept it carefully
cheerful; but came near to losing his temper when he reached
Trengrove's shop to find Mr Garraway already there and in earnest
conversation with the butcher.

'Ah! good-mornin' again! I was just talkin' about you and your
pigeons,' said Mr Garraway, frankly.

'Good-morning, y'r Worship,' echoed Butcher Trengrove. 'And what can
I do for y'r Worship this fine morning? I was just allowin' to Mr
Garraway here that, seein' the young dare-devils had left you a bird
with their compliments, maybe you'd fancy a nice cut of rumpsteak to
fill out a pie.'

'This isn't exactly a laughing matter, Mr Trengrove.'

'No, no, to be sure!' Butcher Trengrove composed his broad smile
apologetically. But, after a moment, observing Mr Pinsent's face and
that (at what cost he guessed not) it kept its humorous twist, he let
his features relax. 'I was allowin' though, that if any man could
get even with a bit of fun, it would be y'r Worship.'

'Oh, never fear but I'll get even with 'em,' promised his Worship,
affecting an easiness he did not feel.

'Monstrous, though! monstrous!' pursued the butcher. 'The boys of
this town be gettin' past all control. Proper young limbs, I call
some of 'em.'

'And there's the fellow that's to blame,' put in Mr Garraway, with a
nod at a little man hurrying past the shop, on the opposite pavement.
This was Mr Lupus, the schoolmaster, on his way to open school.
'Hi! Mr Lupus!'

Mr Lupus gave a start, came to a halt, and turned on the shop door a
pair of mildly curious eyes guarded by moon-shaped spectacles.
Mr Lupus lived with an elderly sister who kept a bakehouse beside the
Ferry Landing, and there in extra-scholastic hours he earned a little
money by writing letters for seamen. His love-letters had quite a
reputation, and he penned them in a beautiful hand, with flourishes
around the capital letters; but in Troy he passed for a person of
small account.

'I--I beg your pardon, gentlemen! Were you calling to me?' stammered
Mr Lupus.

'Good-morning, Lupus!' The mayor nodded to him. 'We were just
saying that you bring up the boys of this town shamefully. Yes, sir,
shamefull