“You will all retire at once,” he said in grave judicial tones, “and in the morning you will accompany me to the Rectory.”
It was a clear case for the Head Master on the morrow, though he singularly failed to congratulate Mr. Roylston on the success of his detective work. He suspended judgment until he could talk with Mr. Morris about Reggie Carroll’s connection with the affair.
Morris, when the Head had sent for him, was convinced that Carroll deserved the leniency; that there were chances for him in the school of making good that did not exist for Chapin, that were doubtful for Thorndyke and Marsh. Carroll certainly had improved, markedly improved, since his confession. He had broken, Morris felt, with his old crowd.
“Besides,” he added, “as for Chapin there is an old score against him that should perhaps weigh with you in your decision, Doctor Forester.”
“Yes?—what is that?”
Morris told the story of the Boxford game of the year before.
“Ah, I see,” said Doctor Forester, and he did see with an admirable lucidity. “And Deering held his tongue about that too?”
“About that too,” answered Morris.
“Unusual boy!”
“A very fine boy, sir.”