“You had nothing to do with it in any way?” pursued the professor.
“No, sir,” said Henderson.
With a disappointed look and a half sigh, the professor turned from him.
“Boys,” he said, “you have heard Henderson’s denial—now I call upon you. If anyone here knows anything about this matter, I beg him, for his own sake, to speak now. Do not let any school-boy notion against telling of another keep anyone silent. This is a very grave affair, and it is your duty to tell whatever you know about it.”
As the professor paused, Baum lifted his head and took a step forward, but the professor did not see him, and a threatening look from Henderson made him drop his eyes and keep silence.
“So,” said the professor sadly, “you all deny any knowledge of this thing? Boys, you don’t know how heartily I wish that I could believe you, but I am sorry to say that there is evidence against some of you, and some of you have not given your teachers reason to put implicit faith in your statements. I sincerely hope, however, that in this case you have told the truth. You will remain here until I return.”
He left the room, closing the door after him.
The boys did not talk much after his departure. Henderson tried to laugh the matter off, but no one responded to his flippant remarks, and, after a little, he sauntered to the window and stood there looking out in silence.
Meantime, the professor questioned Crawford, but, like the others, he steadily denied any knowledge in regard to the affair.
“You may join the others in the class-room,” said the professor, and, as Crawford left the office, he turned to Freeman. Freeman’s face was pale and disturbed, and as he stood before the professor his eyes were downcast, and he looked as if he might himself be the guilty one.