The Real Thief

Robin smiled at the little old man's furious expression, then pulled a glass bottle from the Blue Cloth Pouch. Inside were more than a hundred red ants with nearly translucent bodies.

"A-ants! Poison... poisonous! Get them away!" Chels cried, his eyes wide with terror.

"Relax. They're ordinary tree ants. They aren't poisonous!"

With that, Robin opened the bottle and poured the ants into the box.

Newly freed, the ants scattered through the box. Flersan shouted that they were dirtying the fabric inside.

A minute later, something astonishing happened!

As if pursuing a common goal, the ants formed a line. They marched through a gap by the hinge, down the table leg, and across the floor. After winding their way to the corner, they climbed a crack in the wall toward their destination: a triangular hole in the ceiling.

Robin bent down and picked up several brown hairs. "If I'm not mistaken, these are mole hairs!"

Hagrid took them and examined them closely before declaring, "They are. No one knows the color and smell of mole hair better than I do!"

Flersan snatched the hairs. His hand jerked, and he stared regretfully at his empty fingertips. "Oh! The wind blew them away. I can't find them now. What are we going to do without such important evidence?"

What a performance. Did he think that would let him dodge the truth?

Dream on!

Robin pulled a flying umbrella and a shovel from the Blue Cloth Pouch. He flew up to the ceiling and forcefully widened the hole.

Crash!

Bits of plaster mixed with broken straw rained across the floor. Hagrid and Chels found several felt sheets and spread them underneath, while Flersan loudly accused Robin of dirtying the Tailor Shop.

Half a piece of mole skin wrapped around grains of wheat fell