In answer to his summons, Frank was on hand a half hour ahead of time that evening, but not ahead of Father Boone. He went straight to the director's office and found him engaged at his desk.
"Sit down, Frank," the priest began, as he stopped work. "I am going to get right down to business. I am speaking to you as an official of the Club. The Club is being discredited. The parish is filled with reports and rumors. I am being discredited. Look at that letter. Things have gone too far. Heretofore, I have not asked you any questions on this matter because your duty was plain. I wanted you to perform it like a man, unsolicited. You have not done it, I regret to say, and now I must question you like the others. The welfare of the Club is at stake, and its fitness for carrying on its work, imperiled. Decent parents won't want their boys to belong. It is abroad in the parish that rowdyism is rampant here. I want to nail the nasty rumor, and place it where it belongs. There is an explanation, and I want you to help me get it. Frank Mulvy, did you have a hand in the wreckage wrought in the Club the other night? Answer me yes or no."
"No, Father."
"Do you know anything about it?"
"That I cannot answer, Father."
"You cannot answer! You cannot answer! Do you mean to say that you refuse to do your duty? Cannot! What do you mean, sir?"
In an agitated voice, Frank replied, "Father, I cannot say any more, except to add that I am doing what you yourself have always inculcated."
"Neglect of duty! Explain yourself, sir."
"Not neglect of duty, Father, but regard for honor. You have always held that up to us, along with our religion, and it is honor now that makes me decline to say more. I will answer any questions about myself or anything that I can answer by official knowledge, and take the consequences. More I cannot say."
"And more I do not want you to do, Frank. But tell me, why did you not at least inform me of the wreckage; that was official?"