There was something in Jennings' voice that made Mr Barlow believe the boys. He looked at the books again.
"These books aren't much good to me. The pages are not clean, and all the pages are not there."
"But a minute ago you said that the books were in a good condition."
"Oh, yes," said the bookseller, "but that was before I knew you wanted to sell them. Well, I'll give you three pence for each."
"Three pence!" exclaimed Jennings. He got very angry. "They cost five shillings each a minute ago when you thought we wanted to buy them."
Mr Barlow put on his spectacles.
"That's business, my boy," he said. "These old books don't cost... Oh, wait a moment! I think somebody has ordered Grimshaw's Latin Grammar."
He opened his order book. "Yes, I thought so! The Headmaster of Linbury Court Boarding School asked me to sent him any copies which I had."
The bookseller took the two books and put three sixpence on the counter.
"I'm giving you nine pence for each! That is much more than they really cost."
"Just think," Jennings said to Darbishire in a whisper. "The Headmaster will have to pay five shillings for the book which he thinks is in my desk."
"We can't take a hundred pounds for it," answered Darbishire.
"What are you talking about?" asked Mr Barlow.
"I... I don't want to sell the books I want them back," said Darbishire.
Now Mr Barlow did not want to give them back.
"You will not get a better price for them," he said. "Well, I'll give you one shilling and nine for the two of them. All right?"
"No, thank you very much. They are not for sale," said Jennings.
"Not for sale! What do you mean - not for sale? You've said you came here to sell them!" cried the bookseller.
"Yes, I know, but now quite suddenly I've decided not to sell them."
Mr Barlow put the books back on the counter.
"You are two silly boys who don't know whether you want to buy books or sell them," the bookseller said angrily. "Get out of my shop, and take your books with you!"
The boys were only too happy to go!
Jennings and Darbishire went into the street.
"Just think, Jen. The headmaster takes the Latin book and finds your name on the first page," said Darbishire and leaned on Mr Barlow's table. When he did it a pile of books fell from the table.
"You are so clumsy, Darbi!" Jennings said angrily. "Now look what you've done!"
"I'm sorry, Jen. It was that clumsy table..."
"Quick; pick them up before the old man comes out of his shop!"
The boys picked the books up and put them back on the table. The last book, which Jennings was just going to put back on the table was Poems by Alfred Tennyson. The book had opened when it had fallen down and Jennings took his handkerchief from his pocket to clean the dust from the two open pages.
"I think it's all right now, so we'll put it..." He stopped and looked in surprise at the page in front of him.
"What's the matter?" asked Darbishire.
"I don't know."
"Listen to this on page one hundred and thirty-four of Alfred Tennyson's poems:
'Break, break, break,
On thy cold grey stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me!'
"It's a nice poem, isn't it?" said Darbishire. "You know, Jen, I think I've heard that poem somewhere before."
"I'm sure you have heard it," cried Jennings. "And I know when and where."
"That's right! Of course! It's Venables' poem."
"But it isn't! It's Tennyson's. It's in his book, and it means that it is his! You see what it means, Darbi? Venables never wrote this poem - he copied it from Alfred Tennyson! He tried to deceive us."
Jennings put the book back on the table and the boys hurried to the bus stop. The boys were very angry. Of course, they did not have to give a prize now, a prize, which they did not have. But it was very dishonest of Venables!
At the same time as Jennings and Darbishire were getting on the four-o'clock bus in the town of Dunhambury, Venables went into Mr Carter's room.
"Please, sir, I'm back from the village, sir."
"All right, Venables. And if you are going to the common room, will you put up this notice on the notice-board?"
"Certainly, sir."
Venables took the sheet of paper and looked to it. "There will be on inspection of all textbooks at 5 p.m. this afternoon," it said.
"Why this interest in textbooks?" thought Venables. "And what if Jennings doesn't come back in time? And what if he sold out valuable first editions and couldn't buy any newer editions?"
"Why are we having an inspection, sir?" asked Venables.
"There's a shortage of Latin text books and the Headmaster wants to know how many pupils have on Latin textbooks."