'I don't think so,' answered Mr Wilkins.
'The last time I counted there were eleven of them. I'm going to count again. Stand still, please'.
Mr Wilkins began to count again. 'One, two, three, four, five... I don't know whether I counted that boy over there. Is it you, Bromwich?'
'I don't know, sir; I can't see,' answered Bromwich.
'You don't have to see, Bromo. You know if it's you, don't you?' said Venables.
'Oh yes, this is me, but I don't know whether you've counted me, sir,' Bromwich explained.
Mr Wilkins began to count again.
'One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!'
Twelve!
Well, certainly somebody has moved twice, or two boys have moved once,' thought Mr Wilkins. 'But as there are now more boys I'm sure no boy is lost, and we can continue to look for Jennings and Darbishire.'
The search-party moved slowly up the hill. They were looking for Jennings and Darbishire.
That was not very easy because it was very dark. But they did not look behind them. If they had they could have seen the boys that they were looking for.
At the top of the hill they all stopped.
'I think this is the end of the path, Carter,' said Mr Wilkins. 'Now I wonder what lies over there.'
'It's the way back to Pottlewhistle Halt, sir,' said Jennings.
'Don't interrupt, boy, when I'm talking to Mr Carter, I've had enough of Whistlehalt Pott for one evening, and...'
Mr Wilkins stopped. He had recognized the voice from the darkness. He was sure
it was... But how could it be?
'Which boy spoke a moment ago?' he asked loudly.
'I did, sir,' answered seven boys who were talking about how far cats could see in the dark.
'No, no, no - not you, boys! Somebody else I was sure...' He turned again to Mr Carter. 'I say, Carter, I'm hearing things. Somebody spoke a minute ago and I'm sure
I was Jennings.'
A loud shout came from the darkness.
'Qh, sir! Quick, sir! Come here, sir,- I've found something!'
'Who's that?'
'It's me, sir,-Temple. I've found a glove, sir.'
At once somebody switched on his torch and Temple read, 'Jennings;'
'I've found Jennings' glove!' he shouted.
'Wonderful!' exclaimed the owner of the glove.
But nobody heard him because all the boys were very happy that Temple had found Jennings' glove. Now they knew that they were on the right track.
Mr Wilkins lost no time and said, 'Let's shout together. Now! One, two, three...'
'JENNINGS!' shouted everybody. '
'Yes, sir?' said Jennings quickly. He was standing behind Mr Wilkins who was so surprised that he jumped up in the air.
'I... I... I... Who spoke? Who said 'Yes, sir'?'
''Me, sir,- Jennings. I think you were calling me sir '
'But. but...' Mr Wilkins could hardly speak. 'You are standing here in the middle of us!'
'Yes, sir. I wondered why you were shouting so loudly, sir.'
For some time Mr Wilkins' lips continued to move, but nobody could hear what he was saying. All the boys were surprised too. They gathered round Jennings.
'I say, it's not really you, is it, Jen?' exclaimed Atkinson.
'Of course it's me. And Darbi is somewhere here, too. We've been here for some time'
'Why didn't you say so before?' asked Temple.
'Well, nobody asked me before,' explained Jennings.
'If you want to know what I think, you're not supposed to be here because you are lost, and we are looking for you,' said Bromwich.
Mr Carter called Jennings and Darbishire, and they told him their story.
'Well, I'm happy we've found you at last,' said Mr Carter.
'I'm happy too, sir, because I've found my glove. Matron is very angry when I lose my things.'
'I... I... Really, Carter, it's too much!' exclaimed Mr Wilkins. 'People may think that we have nothing better to do all night than go in the dark...'
'Never mind, Wilkins; we can go back home now,' said Mr Carter.
'Yes, yes, yes, I know. Carter, but, listen, we were looking for two silly little boys who were looking for a silly little glove!'
'It's a nice glove,' Jennings said to himself and put it on.
Chapter Eighteen
Let's be decent to old Wilkie
It was late when the search-party got back to Linbury Court.
Jennings and Darbishire had to go to the Headmaster's study where for twenty minutes they had a very unpleasant conversation with Mr Pemberton.
'You will not go with the school team to an 'away' match again this term,' the Headmaster said at the end of the conversation.
'It's not so bad for you because you are not in the team,' Jennings said to Darbishire when they came to the dormitory, 'but there are four more matches during this term; and some of these schools give wonderful tea after the game.'
'Never mind,' said Darbishire. 'You'll have more time for our wall newspaper. The next issue must be ready very soon, now.'
'With a nice photo of the winning goal in the Bracebridge match, I think!' said Jennings with a smile. 'You were a wonderful photographer, Darbi. You came when the game was half over, and didn't take any photos.'
'But we can write about the search-party,' said Darbishire. 'Jennings and Darbishire Find Search-Party! That will be a nice title, won't it? Or Search-Party Finds Jennings' Glove.'
Darbishire decided to write the titles in his exercise-book, but at that moment Mr Carter put out the dormitory light. Darbishire was only too happy - he wanted to sleep. And in the next bed Jennings, who did not want to sleep, was thinking about... yes, he was thinking about Mr Wilkins. 'We must really be decent to Old Wilkie,' he thought. 'He is not bad, after all. That search-party was certainly too much for him. I'll try to work well during his lessons,' he decided.
'Darby,' Jennings said suddenly.
'Oh! Shut up!' came from the next bed. 'I'm sleeping.'
'You are not sleeping. You can't talk when you are sleeping. Listen! You know we were wondering what we could write about in the next number of the Form Three Times?'
'A fine time to wake me up!'
'Yes, but listen! What will you think if I write some life-stories of famous people like Julius Caesar or Charles Dickens, for example?'
'I'll think it strange.'
'Yes, but that's not all. I think it will make Old Wilkie happy.'
'Why do you think he will want to read, about Charles Dickens?' asked Darbishire in surprise.
'No, you silly! We'll write about Old Wilkie In our Famous Lives, and maybe of other teachers too. We must really be decent to Old Wilkie.'
