"Of course," he meditated, "my lips are sealed. All that I know is confessional. But I must think out some way of coming to Frank's rescue. What a chivalrous lad he is! What a fine sense of honor! He'll see it through, no matter what the cost. I trust that most of my boys would suffer anything rather than lie or do wrong. But this is heroic. It shows fine mettle. His religion is his strength.
"But can I allow him to be a victim of injustice? Daly knew the secrecy of the confessional but, at the same time, I told him that I could not give him absolution unless he repaired the wrong he did, as far as lay in his power. The only thing in his power then, was to give me permission to use what he told me. I told him plainly that someone else was under suspicion of the deed. I pointed out that in case that one were in danger of incurring the guilt and punishment, it was a matter of justice on his part to assume the responsibility of the act.
"Of course he gave me the authorization to declare that he and he alone was the author of the damage. He even begged me to do it, for his peace of soul and as penance for his sins. He showed he had the right disposition for absolution. But it's not all right for me. He was too weak to sign a paper and if I were to use the knowledge I have, what would prevent people from saying that I was violating the sacred seal? My word alone could be questioned by anyone. A slur on the confessional would result, and untold harm would be done.
"But here I am discussing the matter, as though it were open to discussion. No, I was just ruminating. My lips are sealed forever."
Just then there was a rap at the door, and in came Frank. The priest arising said, "God bless you, Frank." They stood and looked at each other for a moment. Father Boone extended his hand. Frank clasped it. They understood.
Then Frank unburdened himself to the priest. He told him all the snubs he got, and finally came to the football matter.
"That got me. You see, Father, they are a square set of fellows. To take such action right before the big game means that they have me down bad. I don't blame them. I told them I had no kick. But, gee whiz, it hurts!"
"Of course it hurts, boy, but don't you suppose it hurts when a soldier goes over the top and gets a bayonet in his breast? Or when he gets gassed, or bombed? Perhaps you think it's fun for an aviator to see his machine crippled four thousand feet above ground and to know he is dashing to death? They do all that for flag, for country, for glory. We ought to do our bit for God and our country above."
"Father, you've got a way of explaining everything. I think if I had you around, I could go through life as if it were a picnic."
"It's not much of a picnic, son; and I could tell you some things worse than going over the top."