Gerald Yorke took the phial in his hand and examined it. He knew
perfectly well that it was his, but he was asking himself whether the
school, apart from Bywater, could contradict him, if he said it was
not. He feared they might.
"I had a phial very much like this, sir," turning it over and over in
his hand, apparently for the purpose of a critical inspection. "I am
not sure that this is the same; I don't think it is. I lost mine, sir:
somebody stole it out of my pocket, I think."
"When did you lose it?" demanded Mr. Pye.
"About the time that the surplice got inked, sir; a day or two before
it."
"Who is telling lies now?" cried bold Bywater. "He had the bottle that
very day, sir, at his desk, here, in this schoolroom. The upper boys
know he had it, and that he was using it. Channing"--turning round and
catching Tom's eye, the first he did catch--"you can bear witness that
he was using it that morning."
"Don't call upon me," replied Tom, stolidly. "I decline to interfere
with Mr. Yorke; for, or against him."
"It is his bottle, and he had it that morning; and I say that I think
he must have broken it over the surplice," persisted Bywater, with as
much noise as he dared display in the presence of the master.
"Otherwise, how should a piece out of the bottle be lying on the
surplice?"
The master came to the conclusion that the facts were tolerably
conclusive. He touched Yorke.
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