“A pretty good rally that you fellows made, David,” said Mr. Randolph. “If it hadn’t been for that catch of Wallace’s you might have beaten them.”
“Yes, yes!” Mr. Dean chuckled. “Wallace was too much for your team, David. It seemed to me that I kept hearing the crack of his bat and the thud of his glove all through the game. Well, he earned his right to play, and I’m glad he distinguished himself.”
“He certainly played a wonderful game,” was all that David could say in reply.
In the athletic house Wallace was still surrounded by his admirers. David dressed hastily and went to his room. He shut himself in there and thought. If he told Wallace what he had discovered and what he suspected and how the suspected act of dishonesty had made him feel, what would be the result? Wallace would probably always shun him henceforth, and he would always be uncomfortable when Wallace was present. Intimacy between them would die. And then—David knitted his brows over this question—could he afford to return to St. Timothy’s for another year at Dr. Wallace’s expense? Would he not feel ashamed to do it? Would not Lester Wallace be justified in that case in looking at him with a sneer? It did not take David long to determine what must be the answer. No; in such circumstances to continue to be the beneficiary of Dr. Wallace’s bounty would be intolerable. David realized that his career at St. Timothy’s must come to an untimely end.
With that thought in mind, gazing out of the window at the pleasant, sun-swept lawns and the ivy-covered buildings, he felt sad and sorrowful. He did not want to leave prematurely this place that he had learned to love and that was to have been—had already been—so helpful in his development. But schooling purchased at the sacrifice of self-respect would cost too dear. To preserve his self-respect he must not play any false part toward Wallace; he must let him know exactly what he had discovered and what a change in his feelings the discovery had made.
Fifteen minutes later, on his way to the study, he met Ruth Davenport and Lester Wallace. David touched his cap and was passing on when Ruth stopped him.
“Wasn’t he the wonder, David!” she exclaimed with a sidelong laugh at Wallace. “Do you suppose that after all he did to-day he’ll have anything left to show against St. John’s?”
“Oh, just as much,” David answered lightly.
Wallace laughed; he was in high spirits. “Well, if I don’t, they’ll have a mighty good substitute to use in my place.” He clapped David on the shoulder.
“Yes,” Ruth agreed. “It’s a shame, David, that you both can’t play. But anyway it will be much nicer for Mr. Dean; he told me that you help him to see a game better than any one else. There he comes now with father. Good-bye.” She darted across the road and went skipping to meet the rector and Mr. Dean.