WILLIAM AND THE WAXWORK PRINCE 93
They revealed Ginger's daring plan to him. William's eyes gleamed. It was a plan after William's own heart.
In a few minutes the little prince, garbed now in William's tweed suit, was propped up at a desk before a Latin grammar, his elbows resting on the desk, his head on his hands, while William was hastily drawing Henry's overcoat over a rather skimpy black velvet suit with a lace collar, and crushing the black velvet feathered cap into his pocket. They crept down to the road and Henry gave the whistle that was to inform Ginger that the coast was clear. Ginger, who had been leading the grumbling but conscientious caretaker round cloak-rooms and class-rooms in a search for an alleged lost purse, heard the signal with relief. It had been rather a strain drawing out the search to the required length, going from room to room and gazing intently at empty spaces of floor and cupboard as if he thought that if he stared long enough the purse would materialise before his eyes.
" Well, I don't know," he said to the grumbling but conscientious caretaker. " Now I come to think of it I jus' mayve lost it at home. I'd better go'n' see before I trouble you any more."
" That's just like you boys," said the caretaker, " always losing your things and saying you left them in school and in the end finding them at home all the time. Seems to me you boys never will learn sense. Giving such a lot of trouble all round. I've got one of you now upstairs in Mr. Markson's room and it's time I went up again to see he wasn't up to any of his tricks. Full of tricks you boys are. It's one person's work looking after each one of you. Amazing to me that you don't learn more sense."
Ginger murmured perfunctory apology and took a hasty departure.
The caretaker went round to Mr. Markson's classroom and glanced anxiously through the glass panel.