"All the shop fellows have to stop at the gate." Having delivered which piece of friendly caution, Georgie walked on, leaving Coote and the bookseller _tete-a-tete_.
"What do you want ?" asked Coote.
"Come, none of your tricks with me, young fellow! I want that pencil- case, there!" "Pencil-case! What pencil-case?
I've not got any pencil-case!" said Coote.
Mr Webster had expected this; he would have been a trifle disappointed had the criminal pleaded guilty at once.
"Do you suppose I didn't see you with it in your hand in my shop, sir, this morning ?" said he.
"But I didn't take it--I haven't got it--I wouldn't do such a thing," said Coote, beginning to feel very uncomfortable.
"You'd like me to suppose that some one else took it; wouldn't you ?" said Mr Webster, feeling so sure of his ground as quite to enjoy himself.
"If you've lost it, somebody else did.

I didn't," said the boy.
"Now, look here, young gentleman, that sort of thing may go down at home or here in school, but it's no use trying it on with me.

If you don't choose to give me that pencil this moment, we'll see what a policeman can do." At this threat Coote turned pale.

"Really, I never took it! You may feel in my pockets.

Oh, _please_ don't bring a policeman, Mr Webster!" "What's your name ?" demanded Mr Webster, ostentatiously producing a pencil and paper.
"Coote--Arthur Dennis Coote," said the trembling boy.
"Address ?" "One, Richmond Villas, Richmond Road, G---." "Very well, Mr Coote," said the stationer, folding up the paper and putting it into his pocket-book; "unless you call on me before this time to-morrow with the pencil, I'll have you locked up.