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He must go and find out Wyndham, or see the doctor, or pay another visit to Tom the boat-boy anything rather than this suspense and misery and inaction. He took advantage of a more than ordinarily dreary speech from Tedbury to rise and make his retreat quietly from the room.
"Tom the boat-boy," said he, "distinctly says that the fellow who was getting out of the window dropped the knife as he did so. Of course that may be his fancy. Anyhow, I don't want the knife any more, so you may as well take it." So saying he produced the knife from his pocket, and handed it to his companion.
Of the mysterious letter, of his visit to Tom the boat-boy, of the knife, of the recollection of Wyndham's movements on the night in question, and then of his supposed admission of his guilt. Wyndham listened to it all with breathless attention and wonder, and when it was all done sighed as he replied, "Why, Riddell, it's like a story, isn't it?"
It was the first time the two had met since Riddell's interview with Tom the boat-boy, and the sight of his old friend's brother, and the sound of his voice just now, gave the captain a shock which for the moment almost unmanned him. He turned pale as he looked at the boy, and thought of that knife.
I say, isn't it prime, Riddell? I tell you, I shall stand on my head if I get into the team." Riddell had only partially heard this jubilant speech, for at that moment Tom the boat-boy was more in his thoughts even than Wyndham the Limpet.
Bloomfield read the note. "Did you go and see the boat-boy?" he asked. "Yes; and all I could get out of him was that some one had got into the boat-house that night, and scrambled out of the window just in time to avoid being seen. But the fellow, whoever he was, dropped a knife, which I managed to get from Tom, and which turned out to be one young Wyndham had lost." "Young Wyndham!
The shrill cries of the Kanaka boat-boy, supplementing the young officer's stentorian shout for the police, had brought two or three Hawaiian star-bearers and club-wielders to the scene of that fierce and well-nigh fatal struggle. All they found was the gallant victim writhing in pain upon the dock, his hand pressed to his side and covered with the blood that poured from his wounds.
"I wouldn't want to turn somersaults," said Sue, shaking her head. "They aren't for girls, anyhow," flung forth Bunny. Bunker Blue looked at Ben sharply. "I think I can guess where you learned to turn those somersaults in the air," said the boat-boy. "It was in a " "Hush! Don't tell any one!" whispered Ben quickly. "I'll tell you all about it after a while. Now help me put up the trapeze."
The letter was as follows: "Riddel, If you want to get to the bottom of that boat-race affair, you had better see what Tom the boat-boy has to say. That's all." Riddell, as he read over and over again the mysterious document in his hand, hardly knew what to make of it. It looked like a clue, certainly. But who had sent it?
"The doctor doesn't usually expel for fighting," said the captain. "Of course not. But you remember getting a note from me a little time ago." "From you? No; I never had a note from you." "What, not one telling you to go down and see Tom the boat-boy?" "Was that from you?" exclaimed Riddell, in astonishment. "Of course it was. And of course you know now what I mean." "I don't.
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