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“I’m looking for somebody,” said the woman briskly. “I guess he’s somewhere round this school. Only—only I ain’t quite as sure as I ought to be. And—and——” she hesitated, peering at the faces before her. Compared with the light out-of-doors, the hall was somewhat dim. “No, I don’t know whether he’s here or not,” she concluded.

“And his name——?” It was Varley who put the question; for Sam and his friends appeared to be tongue-tied, while the principal chanced to be in the background.

“Mercy me, but I don’t know! That’s the trouble—they didn’t seem to know, either, any of them—the men, I mean.”

“Ah!” said Varley courteously, but uncertainly.

The principal stepped forward. “I’m afraid we don’t understand, madam,” said he. “If you’ll kindly explain——”

The visitor laughed. “Dear me, but somehow I always do manage to get the cart before the horse! But the men, they said they thought—— Wait a minute, though!” She moved nearer Varley, and studied his face intently. “Wait a minute! I vow, but this one looks like the fellow. Yes; he’s the one.... No, he isn’t, either. He’s the boy that tried, and went rolling head over heels.”