As Mr. Horton ceased speaking, one boy rose. There was a ripple of laughter, for this boy—Vale—was the dullard of the class, but the teacher’s stern voice quickly checked the merriment.
“You may be seated, Vale,” he said. “And now I wish all the members of the Latin class, except Vale, to come forward.”
His order being obeyed, he left his seat, and, walking down the aisles, looked into the desks of all except Vale. Four faces were full of dismay as he passed from desk to desk, but only one was turned toward him in blank surprise as he returned to his seat with five books in his hands.
“Barber, Green, Hopkins, Cox and Clark, remain where you are. The others may return to their seats,” he said.
Then he looked at the five boys before him with mingled sorrow and sternness.
“Boys,” he said, “I am terribly disappointed in you. It is bad enough to find that you have been resorting to such methods to avoid work and secure high marks, but you have added to your guilt by deliberately lying about it. I had thought better of you than this.”
As he paused, Clark, whose face had shown strong emotion, stepped forward and said: “Mr. Horton, did you find one of those books in my desk?”
There was a touch of contempt in the teacher’s voice as he replied:—
“I did, sir, and I hope you will not lower yourself further by useless protestations.”
“Mr. Horton,” said the boy very quietly, “I should be doing wrong if I did not declare that I have never used any help in preparing my Latin except the notes in the book itself. I never saw the book you have there, and do not know how it came in my desk.”