"And I am jugged,
Alone in solitude, and by myself
Alone. I sit and think, and think,
And think again. Old Crabtree,
Base villain that he is, hath put me here!
And why? Ah, thereby hangs a tale, Horatio!
His teeth, the teeth that chew the best of steak
Set on our table—those I found and hid;
And Mumps, the sneak, hath told on me! Alas!
When will my martyrdom end?"
"Good for the chap who hid the teeth!" continued Tom, and smiled as he thought of the rage Crabtree must have been in when he discovered that his false teeth were gone. A rattle in the keyhole disturbed him, and he dropped onto a chair just as the head assistant again appeared.
"I want the keys to your trunk and your satchel," he said.
"What for, sir?"
"Didn't I tell you before not to ask questions?"
"But my keys are my own private property, and so is what is in the trunk and the satchel."
"All pupils' baggage is examined, Rover, to see that nothing improper is introduced into the Hall."
"Want to see if I've got any more fire-crackers?"
"We do not allow dime novels, or eatables, or other things that might harm our pupils."
