Wallace linked arms with David and started toward the study. “You put up a cracking good game, too, Dave. Next year you must try playing second base. Adams won’t be coming back, and you ought to be able to get the place on the school nine. We’d make a good team, you and I, at first and second.”
“I probably shan’t be coming back next year,” David answered.
Wallace dropped his arm and looked at him with amazement and consternation.
“Why? What’s the trouble?”
“Oh, it just looks as if it wouldn’t be possible. But I want to talk to you about something else, Lester. You remember I was sitting in the schoolroom when you came in after your examination at noon?”
“Yes.” Wallace shot at him a glance of sharp suspicion.
“After you’d gone,” David continued with a tremor of nervousness in his voice, “I wanted an eraser; I couldn’t find mine, and I looked in your desk for it. I saw the book that was lying on top of the others. I suppose it was the one you had just been using in your examination.”
Wallace’s face had turned a dull red. He hesitated a moment, then he said quietly, “Yes, it was.”
“I didn’t suppose you’d do that kind of thing, Lester,” said David. “If you’d done it to anybody else—but to a man that’s blind!”