“I have held out, Mr. Clegg,” he said. “I’ve put up with a lot more than I’ve told you about. But I had to do that. They were goin’ to parole me at the end o’ the year.”
Clegg sat up straight, and his thick lips parted in surprise and comprehension.
“Joshua Cole, do you mean that you deliberately started a fight with Twenty-three forty-four in order to lower your record for good behavior so that you would not be paroled?”
“Yes, sir—that’s it,” Joshua replied. “I want to stay here with you and study astronomy. That means more to me than a T-and-H medal—and—and I don’t wanta go home.”
For a long time Clegg’s colorless eyes looked at him steadily, and his face was hard to read. Then the eyes began to grow bluer until they became dark and purple, and Clegg rose briskly.
“All right, Joshua,” he said. “I shall report you to the superintendent, and then you will be taken to the North Wing and punished. Do you know how you will be punished, Joshua?”
“Yes, sir—I’ve heard about it. I—I hadn’t forgotten that.”
“Very well, Fifty-six thirty-five. That’s all for the present.”
But as the boy turned away Clegg strode after him and caught his arm at the door. “You—I’m sorry, Joshua,” he faltered, and his eyes gleamed with tears. “But you and I have made our own rules, and I guess there was no other way. On the roof to-night, Joshua—if—if you are able to stand. There’s a sixteen-day moon to-night, you know.”
He laid a long arm tenderly over the boy’s shoulder, then jerked it away and bustled back to his little desk.