For a moment there was a silence. Then came a long breath of relief from the students. It was echoed by Doctor Meredith.
“This—er—this—rather simplifies matters,” he said, a bit nervously. “I had it in mind to have Professor Skeel beg your pardon, and you, as a class, to beg his. Then matters would have gone on as before. But this simplifies matters. Professor Skeel, it seems, is no longer a member of the faculty of Elmwood Hall. I do not understand it, but I fear he has left for good.”
“And I know it—I don’t fear it,” murmured Tom. “I’m glad of it, too. It saves me the disagreeable duty of branding him as a forger. All’s well that ends well? I suppose.”
“The purpose of this meeting having been accomplished,” went on Doctor Meredith, “you may consider yourselves excused. You will report for Latin recitation to Professor Hammond, until further notice, and I will engage a new classical professor as soon as possible.”
“Three cheers for Doctor Meredith!”
“Three more for Professor Hammond!”
“Three big ones for the Freshmen class,” called Tom, when the first two had been given.
“And three cheers for Tom Fairfield, the best leader in Elmwood Hall!” shouted Jack Fitch, swinging his cap.
That the roof remained on the chapel after all that excitement speaks a good word for the workmen who placed it there. Certainly such cheering was never before heard in the old school.
“No more Skeel!” exulted Jack, as he walked out of chapel, his arm linked in Tom’s.