"A prefect!" interrupted Mr. Blunt. "Then you were not such a dunce?"
"I was in the upper sixth, halfway up the form, sir; but though not a dunce I was considered anything but quick. That is why I was not selected by my guardian for office work."
"And perhaps you will have occasion to bless the fact to the end of your days. Give me a free and open life, where a man may work for hours healthily and without fatigue. But I am interrupting. You were in the sixth. You were not a dunce, and yet not brilliant. Many and many a lad could be described in a similar manner, and of those quite a few astonish their parents later when they have discovered, perhaps by pure accident, the life for which they are suited. They get congenial work and put their backs into it. Set their shoulders to the wheel, in fact, and do well. But, there, there, I am off again! You were fond of games? You liked cricket?"
"Rather, sir. I always liked the game, and was captain. In fact I was captain of the school for all games, and about tenth from the top in classwork."
"Then you had friends?" asked Mr. Blunt.
"Plenty, sir, I think," was the answer. "The fellows were very good to me when I left."
There was silence for a while, and Mr. Blunt turned away discreetly again, for he saw that Dudley was manfully endeavoring to suppress his emotion. As for the lad himself, as he mentioned his friends his thoughts flew away back to the school, where he had been so happy, and so popular if he had not been too modest to say it. He remembered with a pang how old school friends and chums had mustered round him when the dreadful news was issued to all, and he, Dudley Compton, their games captain, was declared a thief. In a hundred little ways they had shown their belief in and sympathy for him. Indeed, Dudley could have told how with very few exceptions the whole school had been in his favor, how for a few hours the question of his innocence or guilt was discussed with eagerness and no little warmth, and how, as he drove away from the doors of the place he liked so well, heads and arms were thrust out of every available window and wild cheers were flung after him. Yes, he had had heaps of friends, and many and many a time had the memory of their simple belief in him comforted the poor fellow's aching heart.
"Captain of the school? Then you were popular, that's clear," said Mr. Blunt decisively. "Go on, lad. You had plenty of friends."
"Plenty, sir. I often think of them. In the upper sixth we were a happy family, and all got on splendidly together. One fellow, named Joyce, was perhaps an exception."
"Ah! Joyce. That was his name. We are coming nearer to the matter," exclaimed Mr. Blunt, taking his cigar from his lips. "Yes?"