Jeff carried his Cæsar in his outside jacket pocket most of the time, and one day early in June, having a half hour to spare before climbing into his uniform for practice he sat in the sun on the gym. steps and thumbed over his translations, committing a particularly hard passage to memory. He worked at it right up until the time the other members of the squad began to arrive in the gym., then, as he thought, he slipped the book into his pocket and went down stairs to the locker room to undress and put on his baseball uniform, leaving his school clothes in his locker, which unfortunately was not all that its name implied, for it did not always lock with safety.
He spent about three hours on the field with the rest of the squad, and then, returning late to the gym., he dressed and started for his room. Arriving there, he felt for his Cæsar and discovered that it was not in the pocket in which he felt certain he had slipped it. He started to trace back in his memory to see if he could recall just when he had used the book last and remembered that he had been sitting on the gym. steps studying for some time before he went to the locker room. He wondered whether he could have left the book lying on the steps, and to make certain he retraced his steps to the gym. and began to look around in the gathering twilight.
Mr. Clarkson came out of the gym. door while he was looking and, seeing him, asked if he were looking for a book.
“Why, yes. My Cæsar, sir. I must have left it here, though I could have sworn I put it in my pocket.”
“I saw a junior school boy pick up a book on the steps here not an hour ago. I was going into the gym. as he was coming out, and I suggested that he take it over to the office. I guess you’ll find it there,” said the assistant coach as he passed on.
Jeff hurried over to the office only to discover that it was six o’clock and the door was locked. Dr. Livingston and his assistants had evidently left the building for the day.
“Oh, well, I’ll get it in the morning. I’ve got that bloomin’ translation almost pat now, anyhow, so I won’t worry. I’ll try and bone up on algebra to-night. I’ll pick up the book first thing in the morning,” he assured himself, as he hurried off to his room to dress for dinner.
But he had no time to go to the office before breakfast next morning, and he lingered so long in the dining room that he came very near being late for chapel, and consequently had no time to retrieve his lost book before the regular morning exercises.
However, he had the missing text book on his mind, and therefore he was not disturbed when Dr. Livingston, while making announcements from the platform, asked that he report in the office before the first period. Jeff concluded that the Headmaster wanted to give him his book, and, perhaps a bit of a scolding for carelessness.
After chapel Jeff walked over to the office and, after knocking, entered. Dr. Livingston was evidently plunged in deep thought. When he looked up, at Jeff’s entrance, Thatcher noticed that there was a pained and discouraged expression on his face. He looked at Jeff unsmilingly as the boy crossed the office and stood beside his desk, and Jeff was puzzled and a little worried by his expression.