“That took sand all right!”—The old admiration shone from David’s eyes.
“No, it didn’t. After the way you talked to me I felt I didn’t want to go on always knowing I’d done such a crooked thing without ever trying to make it right. I told Mr. Dean that I should never have confessed if you hadn’t found me out. So he knows I didn’t deserve much credit.”
“Just the same, I think you do, and I guess he thinks so,” David said warmly.
“He was mighty good to me,” Wallace acknowledged. “He asked me what I thought should be my status now, and I had to say that, as I hadn’t honestly passed the examination, I supposed I ought to be put on probation again. He said he supposed so, too, but he said he didn’t want the school to know the reason for it all; he thought that, as I had come to him, the story needn’t be made public. I said I was willing to take my medicine, but of course I should be grateful if I wasn’t shown up before everybody. So he’s just going to let it be known that I’m on probation again, after all, and that there was some mistake made in letting me off it; people can draw whatever conclusions they please.”
David went over and seated himself on the arm of Wallace’s chair; he slipped his own arm round Wallace’s shoulders.
“Lester,” he said, “I feel somehow as if I’d done a mighty mean thing to you. I guess I did talk like a prig.”
“You were right about it, anyway. And I’m glad I’ve got the thing off my chest. I don’t want you to think of me as crooked, Dave.”
“I won’t! I never will! I was afraid you didn’t care any more what I thought of you!”