“No, sir.” And Trevor explained his manner of keeping that worthy person in ignorance. And once or twice during the recital, although Trevor really didn’t do the narrative half justice, the professor concealed his smiles with difficulty. And then, when there was nothing more to be said on Trevor’s side, the principal sat silent for several moments, gazing out of the window. And Trevor took heart.
“Well, the whole case seems to have been one of sudden infatuation between a boy and a dog,” said Professor Wheeler at last, “rather than a preconceived plan to create mischief or transgress the rules. Under the circumstances—— But, of course, you understand that the dog can not remain in the grounds?”
“I suppose not, sir.” And the principal smiled at the lad’s dolorous tones.
“No; now I would suggest that you take him to the village and find some one there to look after him for you; I think you can do it; you might try Watson’s stables, back of the Eagle. Then you can see the dog occasionally, though you must promise never to bring him onto school grounds.”
“Yes, sir; thank you, sir.”
“And I think that that will be punishment enough for the case. You may go, Nesbitt. And you may leave the puppy here, if you like, until you have an opportunity to go to the village.”
“Thank you very much, sir,” answered Trevor gratefully.
“By the way, it’s a bulldog, isn’t it?” asked the principal. “Yes, I thought so; that head, you know; very intelligent creature, to be sure.”
And then Trevor placed Muggins on the principal’s big leather couch, with never a doubt but that that was the most appropriate place for him, and sneaked to the door. And when he hurried down the steps of Academy Building, shrill and faint came to his ears the wailing of Muggins.