“Of course he was,” nodded Nelson. “We all know he skipped out and left us to face the music. Now that there’s nothing more to worry about, he’ll come back with his head up.”
“Nothing to worry about!” sighed Billy Piper. “Wait till the prof finds out what happened to his skeleton. My deduction is——”
“He’ll bone the whole school to tell who did it,” sighed Cooper. “If anybody squeals, we’ll find ourselves in a mess.”
“If anybody sus-squeals!” muttered Springer. “What’s going to prevent Grant from giving the whole thing away?”
“He’ll do it,” said Rollins. “That’s the way he’ll get even with us.”
“Get even!” said Roy Hooker. “Seems to me he’s more than even as it stands.”
With the beginning of the afternoon session they perceived something in Prof. Richardson’s manner which increased their apprehensions. Nevertheless, not until he had heard the physiology class and was on the point of dismissing it did the principal speak out. Standing beside his desk, he removed his spectacles and held them balanced upon his thumb, while his eyes surveyed the scholars before him, several of whom found it difficult to hide their nervousness.
“It’s an unfortunate thing,” began the master calmly, “that some young men in this school seem to hold very crude and unsatisfactory ideas regarding honor and decency. You know very well that I have always favored clean sport and decent fun—I have even encouraged it. Yesterday I informed the members of this class that I had secured a human skeleton, which those who wished to do so might examine at an extra session after school closed to-day. This skeleton had been placed in the laboratory. I have but recently discovered that the laboratory has been entered by some one and the skeleton has been broken. It was strung upon wires, and may be restored. This, however, in no way palliates the offense, which was no more nor less than a shameful act of vandalism. It is quite likely that more than one person was concerned in this despicable business. I’m not going to question you individually, but I warn you now that I shall deal severely with the culprits when I learn who they are, unless they at once own up to the deed. The lad who comes to me first with an honest confession will be treated with more or less leniency. It may be that some one who was not concerned in the matter—who is in no way responsible—knows something about it. If so, I hope he will speak up at once and tell the truth. This is his opportunity. Let him speak.”
It seemed that the master’s gaze came to a rest upon Rodney Grant as he concluded, and more than one lad in that class felt his heart stand still, believing it almost certain that Rod would grasp this opportunity to complete the work of retaliation. For several moments the silence was intense. The prominent “Adam’s apple” in Sile Crane’s neck bobbed convulsively as he swallowed. White around the mouth, Chub Tuttle slowly rolled his eyes in Grant’s direction. Rod was looking straight at the professor, but he sat unmoved and calm, like an image of stone.
“Very well,” said the master at length; “you have had your opportunity, and no one has chosen to speak out. Perhaps some one will decide to do so after further consideration. At any rate, I shall leave no stone unturned in my efforts to learn the identity of the rascals. The class is dismissed.”