By that time Frank began to get anxious. The mix-up was bad enough to face when only the Club and Father Boone and his mother knew. How could the explanation ever catch up with the story—especially if young Dunn got to talking! Of course, in the end everything would come out all right. In due time, Father Boone would learn the truth from Daly himself, but meanwhile—
He knew his mother was as much upset about the misunderstanding as himself. And to have affairs still further complicated would be pretty bad. Father Boone must know a good deal, for the place could not have been set right without his knowledge. But he did not know who had done it, nor any of the details. That was evident from Daly's story, and so up to now, he was angry with Frank because he had not reported. It had all the evidences of a free row surely—and his indignation was justified—and especially against an official. But now suppose this talk should reach Father Boone and that it should associate him with the affair as one of its leaders!
The very thought made Frank shudder, until he recalled that Bill was not only willing, but anxious to make a clean breast of his spiteful deed. So in the end, all would turn out right. For the time being, he was under a cloud. There was nothing to do but wait for the wind to blow it away or the sun to dissipate it.
But even as he meditated, the cloud was getting thicker and blacker. He had hardly returned to school for the afternoon session, when his teacher asked him if the report were true, that he was deposed from his office as secretary. The inquiry gave him a distinct shock. He had the greatest respect and affection for his professor, and that Mr. Collins should entertain for a moment the thought that he had done anything to deserve the censure of Father Boone, was very painful to him.
"This is the first I have heard of it," Frank answered.
"I am so glad I was misinformed," was the reply.
That afternoon, Frank's thoughts could not be held in check. There was just the possibility that Father Boone had taken some further action. When his name was called for recitation in Caesar his mind was elsewhere. It was not like Frank to hesitate when called upon, but now he was at sea. The teacher saw his predicament, and having genuine regard for him said, "Don't you agree with the preceding translation? Smith, try that passage again." Smith repeated and Frank, now master of the situation, took up the portion assigned him. But his mind soon wandered away again. He began to reflect on the consideration his teacher had shown him, and to wonder if his absent-mindedness suggested the disquiet of a guilty conscience. It seemed as though every fellow in the class was watching him.
When school was out, he went to Mr. Collins to thank him. "I was all upset, sir, by what you said before class."
"I'm sorry, Frank, that I referred to the matter at all. I really was sure, knowing you as I do, that it was a false rumor."
"Thank you, Mr. Collins."