“Oh, no, you haven’t. There is much more—and you had better listen closely—if you care at all for your reputation here at Oak Hall.” 69
The professor stared at the boy and grew a trifle pale.
“Wha—what do you—er—mean by that, Lawrence?”
“I hate very much to bring this subject up, Mr. Haskers, but you practically compel me to do it. If you will only promise to give us a fair chance to make up our lessons, I won’t say a word about it.”
“Just what do you mean?” faltered the teacher.
“I know something about your doings in the past—doings which are of no credit to you. If you disgrace Ben and me by degrading us in classes, we’ll disgrace you by telling all we know.”
“And what do you know?” demanded Job Haskers, hastily.
“We know a good deal,” put in Ben.
“All about your dealing with the poor widow, Mrs. Breen,” added the shipowner’s son. “How you still owe her for board, and how you borrowed money to publish a book that was never issued.”
“Who told you that?” cried Job Haskers, stepping back in consternation. “Who told you that I had borrowed money from her, and that I owed her for board?”