Sands brought the new version to Melvin with a worried expression on his face. Tompkins was his second pitcher; he couldn’t afford to lose him. Melvin carried the matter to Varrell; together they waited on Mr. Moore.
The acting Principal received them with his usual comprehensive smile,—a smile that was typical of his general disposition. He was a bland, benevolent, scholarly man, comfortably content in the consciousness of his superior attainments as compared with those of the pupils under him, “an easy marker and an easy mark,” and, of course, superficially popular.
“There’s a story going around the school about Tompkins that we want to protest against,” said Melvin. “It’s an absurd story, but it might do him some harm.”
“What is the story?”
“Why, that he is suspected of breaking into the safe. He opened a safe last fall at Morrison’s when no one else could, and he’s recently had a present of some money from his uncle. I think that’s all the foundation there was for the story. We just wanted to say that we saw the check ourselves, and knew how he came by it, and that he isn’t at all the fellow to do such a thing.”
“Dear me!” said Mr. Moore, in real surprise. “No, indeed! I never dreamed of such a thing. I assure you, we haven’t the least suspicion of Tompkins, or, indeed, of any other boy.”
“They say Eddy knew the combination,” said Varrell, who now spoke for the first time.
“That is an unwarranted assumption,” replied Mr. Moore, warmly, “and very unjust to the boy. I have convinced myself by questioning him that he did not notice the combination; and he went to Boston immediately afterward. He is a harmless little fellow, quite unequal to any double dealing.”
“He associates a good deal with Bosworth,” said Melvin, struck with this view of the harmlessness of Eddy’s occupations.
“Does he, indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Moore, in a pleased tone. “I am very glad to hear it. It always does a little boy good to come under the influence of an older boy of the right kind. Bosworth’s mother keeps a boarding-house for students in Cambridge, and the son is very anxious to be a credit to her and repay her for her sacrifices. I do not know a neater, more attractive boy in my classes, nor one who does his work better.”