“I told him. I felt I needed advice as to what to do.”
“I am satisfied,” said Professor Worthington. “I shan’t do anything about the matter; or rather the only thing I shall do will be to raise Ives’s marks. You’ve done excellent work in the course since the thing happened, and I am simply going to forget what you’ve told me.”
He showed his friendliness by walking arm in arm with Lester to the door when Lester, after murmuring his gratitude, rose to go.
Lester felt that now he could face the final ordeal with cheerfulness. He went directly to the room of Tom McKee, the president of the senior class, and found him tipped back in his chair, with his feet on his desk and a volume on economics open against his knees.
“Tom,” he said, “I want you to call a meeting of the class for to-morrow night. Get the notice of it in to-morrow morning’s Crimson. It’s on a matter of importance.”
“Sure,” said Tom. “The first marshal’s word is law. What’s up?”
“I can’t tell you now. But you’ll see that the notice goes in, won’t you? And make it urgent; we want everybody to come.”
McKee reached for a pad and a pencil and wrote out the following:
Seniors! Important meeting at Harvard Union at eight o’clock this evening. Very urgent. Everybody come.