Part 12 (1/2)

”Who ever heard of a thief in Kisington!” exclaimed the mother. ”Who could it be? I never saw a shawl like this. Let us examine what she has taken, the wicked old creature!”

Harold got a candle, and presently returned to the pantry, where his mother was groping among the smashed crockery for some other clue to the thief. When the light flickered on the pantry shelves the mother gave a scream of surprise and anger. ”My six beautiful pies!” she exclaimed.

”The thief has stolen my six beautiful apple pies! Oh, what a wicked old soul!”

”Those lovely pies!” groaned Harold. ”See, Mother, she has gobbled one and left the empty plate. The others she has taken away with her.”

”I wish they may choke her!” cried the mother angrily. ”Now you will have none to take to your Red King to-morrow. I was going to save the finest of all for him, in the hope that it would soften his hard heart.”

”It will never soften his heart nor please his stomach now, Mother,”

said Harold ruefully. ”And still more I regret the other five pies which I know you meant for me. When shall we ever see such pies again?”

”They were made from the last of the flour and apples and sugar sent you in grat.i.tude by the Leading Citizens,” said Harold's mother sadly. ”I am sorry your reward is thus wasted, my poor boy! What spiteful neighbor could have spied them through the pantry window and planned this midnight raid at our expense?”

Harold shook his head mournfully. ”I do not know any one in Kisington whom I could suspect,” he said. ”Come, Mother, let us go back to bed.

To-morrow we will look further into the matter. We have at least this handsome shawl as one clue, which if it does not find us the thief will be very nice for you to wear.”

They went to bed again, and slept until morning.

Now in the morning before school Harold took the shawl and went to his friend the Librarian and told him what had happened during the night.

The Librarian was greatly shocked to hear of a theft in town and went with Harold straight to the Lord Mayor.

The Mayor examined the shawl carefully and shook his head. ”This is very strange!” he said. ”This is no shawl made in Kisington, or in our Kingdom. It is a strange foreign shawl, and very valuable. I am glad to believe that the thief must have been a foreigner, or a gypsy, or a vagrant of some sort. But how did she find her way into our guarded city? I must look into this! Meanwhile, my lad, since you have suffered loss and damage to your pantry and to your feelings the Leading Citizens will see that you are made whole at their expense; I will answer for their grat.i.tude to you.”

”My Lord,” said the Librarian, patting Harold affectionately on the head, ”our boy has done so well already in handling this savage King, may we not expect still more from him now that the time is so critical?

King Victor should soon be coming to our aid. If we can but postpone the siege for at least another day! Suppose Harold should invite Red Rex, under a flag of truce, to visit and inspect our Library?”

”Good!” cried the Mayor. ”When you go to Red Rex this afternoon, Harold, my boy, see what you can do further in the matter.”

”I will try, my Lord Mayor,” said Harold. ”But Red Rex is growing very impatient. I fear that I cannot much longer keep him amused with our tales.”

”Clever lad! You have already done right well,” said the Librarian, embracing Harold proudly. ”And I dare say you will be able to do yet more. Now, run along to school; for we must not forget our everyday duties, even in these times of excitement and danger.”

So Harold went to school, and you can imagine how many questions he had to answer at recess time. The Librarian went to his books and the Lord Mayor to his desk. And Harold's mother went down on her knees, cleaning up the wrecked pantry.

But where was the strange old woman all this time?

XV: THE BANDAGED HAND

As soon as school was over on Thursday afternoon, Harold started once more on his errand to the War-Lord. As usual, he was accompanied to the city gate by a crowd of schoolboys and girls who envied him his luck and wished that they could go all the way with him. But this, naturally, the City Fathers would not permit. One boy carried Harold's coat, and another his strap of schoolbooks. A third brought the basket with Harold's luncheon, while Robert carried the flag of truce,--proud boy!

But Richard, Harold's special chum, was the proudest of all. For he was trusted with the precious volume from the library containing the story of the King's Pie, which Harold was to read to the War-Lord on that day.

All gave a great cheer when the gate was unbarred; and all the little girls waved their handkerchiefs when with a gay shake of his hand Harold stepped out into the danger zone.

Red Rex received him as usual, sitting upon the green hillock. Harold noticed straightway that the War-Lord's hand was bound up with a bandage, and that he had a cut over his left eye, which made him look fiercer than ever.

”But I thought there was a truce!” exclaimed Harold, gazing at these tokens of trouble. ”How came you to be thus hurt, Your Majesty?”