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the new arrivals entered.
    Abbot Daucus pulled up a stool, and sat facing the miscreant, studying his demeanour, before turning to Benjo Tipps. “I understand from Granspike that he was discovered hiding in your cellars, is that correct?”
    The stout Benjo tugged his headspikes respectfully. “Aye, Father Abbot, ’tis where he was. Though I don’t know why I never knew it afore today. My ole eyes ain’t all they was, an’ my hearin’ could be a lot better. Young rip! Must’ve been comin’ an’ goin’ as he pleased, an’ all without my knowin’.”
    Daucus consulted Foremole Burff and Skipper Rorc. “So, Granspike says you found him hiding inside an old barrel, was any of his hoard there?”
    Orkwil raised his eyes and spoke for the first time. “I never kept any of it in the barrel, sir, all’s I had there was a few vittles, a lantern an’ my notebook.”
    Daucus made a gesture at the rope around Orkwil’s waist. “Remove that thing, Skipper, I don’t like it. He isn’t going to run anywhere now. What’s all this about a notebook, Orkwil, why did you need to keep a notebook?”
    Fenn Bluepaw glared over her small spectacles at the young hedgehog. “So that’s where my season songbook disappeared to! I bound it myself, specially, and I hadn’t written a single song in it yet. You rogue, I wager you helped yourself to my best charcoal writing sticks, too. Rest assured I’ll count them, when I get back to my study. I know exactly how many I had!”
    The Abbot interrupted his Recorder. “Miz Bluepaw, this isn’t getting us anywhere, kindly hold your peace. What was the notebook for, Orkwil?”
    Freed of the rope halter, Orkwil felt better, some of his former easy manner returned. “Oh, the notebook, Father, that was to keep track of everything I borrowed….”
    â€œHuh, borrowed?” Marja Dubbidge snorted. She was immediately silenced by a glare from the Abbot, who beckoned Orkwil to continue. The young hedgehog warmed to his subject.
    â€œAye, borrowed. I never meant to keep anything for good, after awhile I’d return it. Like your silver belt buckle, Foremole, sir.”
    Foremole Burff wrinkled his velvety snout. “Boi okey, oi never h’even knowed et wurr stole’d, oi found it t’uther day, unner moi pillow!”
    Orkwil spread his paws magnanimously. “You see, I give it all back, sooner or later. What I do is, when I borrow something I list it in my notebook. Then when I return it, I cross it off the list. Though one or two things I hold on to for a long time, because I like them so much. Sorry, Father.”
    Daucus continued his interrogation. “And where, may I ask, are all these missing items, if they’re not in your barrel?”
    The young hedgehog twiddled his paws, grinning mischievously.
    â€œRiddle me ree don’t read my mind,
    inside my book your goods you’ll find!”
    Skipper’s rudderlike tail clipped Orkwil’s ear. The big otter warned him with a growl, “Mind yore manners, Master Prink. Speak proper to the Abbot, an less o’ yore gobbledygook!”
    Granspike still had a soft spot for Orkwil. She tut-tutted at Skipper, and placed a paw about the young one’s shoulders. “I think wot he means, Father Abbot, is that there’s writin’ in his book, tellin’ us where t’find all the goods he took. Ain’t that right, Orkwil?”
    The grin reappeared on Orkwil’s face, he nodded. “That’s right, clever old Gran!”
    The old hogwife suddenly snapped. She smacked him hard on the cheek, shouting, “Don’t ye start gettin’ smart with me, young hog! Clever ole Gran, indeed. Who was it found ye half-starved an’ weepin’ out in the woodlands, after yore no good ma’n’pa had run off on ye, eh? Who was it brought ye to Redwall an’