"I am afraid so, yes, Tom, my boy," and the doctor, dropping his more formal tone, addressed Tom almost as if he were his own son. "Not that I believe you guilty," he added. "Far be it from me to suspect one of my students when he has assured me that he is innocent. I have never yet known an Elmwood Hall lad to tell an untruth!" and the doctor drew himself up proudly.
"Therefore, I believe you, Tom," he went on, "but I am in duty bound to point out to you that many will believe you had a hand in this unless—unless you can account for your sweater being worn by someone else, on the night in question, near the farm. Can you?"
Once more a silence. Then Tom said:
"I prefer to say nothing, Doctor."
"Very well. Then this painful scene had best end. I request you all to keep silence on this matter. I will see Mr. Appleby, and explain that all of my students deny having had a hand in this occurence. That should be sufficient for him."
The doctor paused a moment, and then, holding out the gaudily-colored sweater, asked:
"Do you wish to claim this, Tom?"
"Yes, sir, it is mine," and with a steady step Tom walked forward to get the garment. As he went down the aisle toward the rostrum there were one or two faint hisses, that seemed to come from the section where Sam Heller and his cronies sat.
"Silence!" cried Doctor Meredith, in a ringing voice.
The noise subsided. Tom took his garment, and turned back to his seat. As he passed Sam he looked him full in the face, and there was that in the glance which boded no good to that sneaking coward when the tables should be turned.