Richard had not forgotten about the theme; nor had he been impressed with Lester’s appeal, except unfavorably. But he had decided that if Lester had done a mean thing he did not want to know it. He never had known Lester to do anything mean; he admired him more than he admired any other fellow in college, and he wanted to go on admiring him. It couldn’t help David at all to tell him of the discovery; and what was the use in acting as a detective against a friend? Richard disliked mischief-making; he had decided not to carry on any further investigations about David’s theme.
When another twenty-four hours had passed and Richard’s attitude remained as friendly and cheerful as ever, Lester felt encouraged. He had been apprehensive when he came out from one of his classes and encountered Richard and David walking together, but they had greeted him cordially in a manner that caused him to think that they were not making him the subject of discussion. And later in the day Richard’s cheerfulness confirmed Lester’s hopes. There remained only the danger of David’s rewriting the theme. Lester felt that he must know soon what David was going to do.
In the hope of finding out he went that evening to David’s room and, as it happened, immediately received the information that he desired. David was sitting at his desk, writing; a sheet of paper in front of him was half filled.
“Beat it!” said David. “Don’t you dare to disturb me. I’ve just caught an inspiration for that theme.”
Lester’s heart gave a leap. “All right, Dave; I’ll clear out. Might I ask what the subject is to be this time?”
“You. You and all your works.” Lester stood momentarily aghast until David explained. “Campaigning for office, electioneering, managing a candidate; I’m getting in all the cracks I can at you, your rivals, their managers, your managers, and at college politics in general.”
“That’s a good subject. Don’t be too hard on me.”
Outside David’s door, Lester could hardly restrain his joyful emotions. Never in the world had there been any one so lucky, so undeservedly lucky, as he. The last peril of discovery was past; no one would ever know the base thing that he had done; his reputation was safe. But he should never forget the shamefulness of his act and of the lying that had followed it; he could never think of it without a sickness of the heart. Surely he could never do anything mean and crooked again. Surely he would do what he could to prove to himself that he had some decency and honor. If the fellows chose to elect him marshal, he would accept the election because to decline without giving adequate reasons would be virtually impossible. But he would not lift a finger to win the election. He would stick quietly to his books and try by his studiousness and indifference to popularity and honors to win back some measure of self-respect and of faith in his own character.
That evening for the first time since he had taken the theme he was able to concentrate upon his work. He sat up studying until long after Richard had gone to bed and stopped only when his eyes closed with drowsiness.