“Of course he is,” replied Peg. “And since they’ve run up against a snag p’raps he’s after Dick here to ask a question or so.”
Dick laughed in a free and easy manner. Indeed, he would have been only too willing to answer a score of questions just then, for his mind was perfectly free from all sources of anxiety.
“You are wanted in the committee room, Nat!” said Harry Bartlett, shortly.
“Who—me? What for?” asked Nat, in a trembling voice.
“Never mind until you get there,” replied the other sharply. “I was asked to bring you back with me; that’s all I can say,” with which words the leader of the Y. M. C. A. turned and retraced his steps.
Nat tried to grin, for he knew that every eye just then was fastened on him. But the attempt was not much of a success. He arose to his feet and shuffled after the messenger of the committee. The rest of the boys gaped as they saw the door of the committee room close on him.
“Whew! I wonder what’s doing?” ventured Clint.
“Ten to one Nat’s been up to some crooked work again,” said Peg.
“You’d like to believe so, wouldn’t you?” sneered Dit Hennesy, who, however, had a half alarmed look on his sallow face. “Chances are the committee want to congratulate Nat privately on his genius before they make the public announcement.”
“Sure!” jeered Peg. “And Nat must have believed that too, even if he did look like a criminal being led to the execution block when he left us just now. Watch and see what happens.”