Alfred ran off. All his grief went at once. Outside the door he met his two friends, who were waiting for him.
“Did it hurt much?” inquired Steve.
“Mr. Harmer has believed me,” replied Alfred with joy, “and I am so happy now! He has not caned me. I have only got to do three sums for leaving my books about.”
“I am glad,” exclaimed Walter, with emphasis. “I believe some one else put those answers in your book, purposely to get you in a row, while we were with the dean. I’ll try to find out.”
“What are you going to do now, Alfred?” inquired Steve. “Will you come for a walk with us? We don’t go to Mr. Cottenham’s until half-past five.”
“No, thank you, Steve,” replied Alfred. “I shall run home and wash my face, and just write a letter home to my mother and tell her everything.”
“All right!” said Walter. “We will call for you about a quarter-past five.”
“Thanks!” said Alfred, and away he ran, as happy as he had been miserable before, to write home.