Fernald had just taken his coat off when Mr. Flaherty, the janitor, beckoned him to the door of the library by the nonchalant method of standing in the door and throwing his chin in the air with a series of short jerks. When Fernald went across the room to find what was wanted, Mr. Flaherty drew him mysteriously into the passage.
"Say, I guess yer got into some trouble here last week, didn't yer?"
"Trouble? No; I don't remember any trouble."
"Didn't yer put a feller out, or somethin'?"
"Oh, yes; I forgot. I did put a boy out. What's the matter—is he back again?"
"Him? No. The old man's here, though. Been waitin' for an hour. Says he's going to have the law on yer."
Fernald became interested.
"Where is he?" he inquired.
"He's in here. Been settin' by the stove, and now he's gone to sleep. I'll send him out to yer. But don't yer worry about no law. Godfrey! I've had more'n forty of 'em goin' to have the law on me."
"I'm not worried," Fernald assured him, and the other departed in search of the wrathful parent.