“Dear me!” said Polly again.
“And now Mr. Faber says there isn't much hope for him, unless he picks up in the last half. He called me into his study to tell me that to-day—wants me to influence him and all that.”
All the hateful story was out at last. Polly sprang out of her chair.
“You don't mean—you can't mean, that Pickering will be dropped, Jasper?” she cried as she faced him.
“Worse than that,” answered Jasper gloomily.
“Worse than dropped!” exclaimed Polly with wide eyes.
“To be dropped a class wouldn't kill Pick; so many boys have had that happen, although it is quite bad enough.”
“I should think so,” breathed Polly.
“But Pick will simply be shot out of the school,” said Jasper desperately; “there's no use in mincing matters. Mr. Faber has utterly lost patience; and the other teachers as well.”
“You don't mean that Pickering Dodge will be expelled?” cried Polly in a little scream.