"Well, now, you see," Dr. Maynard smiled, "Al didn't tell me the story, but he implied that you had explained the whole thing to him; and of course, Bobbie, if he, your brother, doesn't approve of your cause—"
"I told him a lie," I interrupted; "I told him I'd just the same as stolen seventy-five dollars from the Household Account, which he put me in charge of; and I haven't at all. I simply haven't! I shan't ever need any more money after to-day. I'll never ask another favour after this, but I've got to have it. I've got to! If it would do any good to get down on my knees and beg, I'd do it. But it seems to me when I debase myself by asking you for money right out of a clear sky, you must know it's awfully important. Alec tells me I've been improper even to earn money from a friend. It must be worse to beg it. But I don't care—I don't care—just so you give it to me, and quick, because I've got to take a train."
Dr. Maynard looked very sober and serious for him.
"Can't you tell me what you need it for?" he asked.
For a moment I was tempted, but men are so queer and severe with boys who make mistakes, so terribly correct about honesty, how did I know but perhaps Dr. Maynard, too, would think Oliver ought to go into the mills.
I shook my head.
"I can't," I said; "I wish I could,—but, I'm sorry, I can't."
"How much do you need for your railroad fare?" he inquired, irrelevantly, and when I had told him he asked, "And what time does your train leave?"
"At nine-fifty," I burst out impatiently; "and I shall lose it if you don't hurry. We are wasting time. Oh, please decide quickly."
He didn't answer for a minute. He was biting his under lip, beneath his moustache, and gazing far away beyond my head. His arms were still folded.