“I’ve got it!” shouted Sid.

“He’th found it,” said Pip.

Every sad face brightened.

“No, I haven’t, Pip!” exclaimed Sid.

“But you thaid tho.”

“No, I meant that I knew what had become of it.”

“O!  O!” said Pip.  “But what hath become of it?”

Sid here looked about him, to make sure that no one outside of the club was listening.

“Well, boys, I think Tim Tyler took it”

“What makes-you think so?” inquired the governor.

“It has just come to me that I saw Tim Tyler go down the lane after school, and a tin dipper stuck out of his pocket.”

“You did?” asked several.

All eyes opened wide in wonder and indignation.

“With my eyes I saw him.  That’s where the dipper has gone.”

It did not occur to the club that there were more dippers than one in the world, and then they did not care to think of it.  They had not forgotten the Fourth, and they wanted to believe something bad of Tim.

Another point for discussion came up at once, and Charlie suggested it.

“How shall we get the dipper away from Tim?” he asked.

“I move the president go,” said Wort.

“I thecond the mothion,” cried Pip.

“Aint you good,” was Sid’s scornful notice of the intended honor.  “Presidents don’t do that, but the police of the club.  I preside.”

“The sentinel is the police, and that is Juggie, but he is not here now; he went home a moment ago.  Then, of course, his assistant must do it;” and he here turned toward Pip.

“Yes, Pip,” said boy after boy.

Poor, trembling Pip!  Didn’t he wish he had been born in the previous century!  No amount of coaxing could prevail upon, him to approach the dreadful dragon that had carried off the tin dipper, and every body else declined the same honor.

Finally Wort made this offer: 

“I’ll go down to-Old Tim’s boat, and Tim may be hanging round, and I’ll see what I can see.”

This was a relief to the club, and entirely safe for Wort.

“I’ll go at once,” he said, and away he went.

Charlie went up to a store on “Water Street at the same time, and chanced to meet Miss Bertha Barry.

“We’ve met with a loss,” said Charlie, with a sober face.

“Any one dead?”

“O no; but the club has lost its tin dipper.”

“Tin dipper?”

“Yes, teacher, where we kept our money.”

“O!”

“All our money has gone.”

“How much!”

“Ten cents.”

“Hem, hem; sorry.”

“We think we know who did it.”

“You know certainly.”

“No, but we think we do, and the feller is just bad enough to do it.”

“It’s pretty hard to have people think you are bad; and then, if you are thought to have done something you were never guilty of, that is worse still.  I don’t think it fair to charge a wrong thing on any body unless we know pretty certainly.  It is not just.”