“Wonder why they didn’t finish it. Must have been scared away, what?”
“Of course! Look at the paint pot. And Decker found one brush ten feet away. They probably heard something and ran.” The speaker lowered his voice. “Know anything about it?”
Then the chapel bell stopped ringing and the fellows made a rush for the entrance.
Kendall smiled to himself as he followed. He could tell them something that would surprise them if he wanted to. Of course he would have to tell someone or else he would get no credit for his act; and it is only human nature to want credit for our good deeds. The best way, he guessed, would be to just sort of mention it carelessly to someone. When one fellow knew, it wouldn’t take long for the story to get about. And after that—well, at least they’d know who he was!
But presently, when Mr. Collins reached the announcements for the day, Kendall was reminded that life was not all roses.
“I will see the following students at the Office at twelve,” said Mr. Collins. Then came a half-dozen names, and the last of all was Burtis!
Kendall left Oxford wondering what sort of punishment was to be meted out to him. It seemed a very small crime, leaving the dormitory after ten o’clock, and Kendall comforted himself with the conclusion that the Assistant Principal would only give him a talking to. But now and then during the forenoon the recollection of the coming interview caused a qualm.
Meanwhile the school had worked itself into quite an excited frame of mind over the green paint episode. Older fellows recalled the time when, a couple of years ago, the front of Dudley had been discovered decorated one morning with a legend in blue paint. But the boy who had performed that startling feat could not be connected with the present adventure for he had removed himself from Yardley a short while after. Younger boys whispered of a mysterious secret society and hinted that they had suspected its existence for some time. By noon the Third Class had been made defendant. They might deny it as much as they pleased, declared the other classes, but anyone could see that it was their work. And, added some of the First Class oracles, the sooner they discovered the culprits and made an example of them the better for the reputation of the Third Class. All of which added to the rapidly growing excitement. Of course the Third Class denied to a man all knowledge of the affair. Well, perhaps not to a man, since Kendall didn’t put in any denial, the principal reason for which was that no one thought of accusing him.
By the time breakfast was over the paint can and brushes had disappeared and the janitor was busily at work removing the offending stains. It was rumored that Mr. Collins himself had taken the paint can, but when questioned the janitor only grunted. It was also rumored that faculty was enormously incensed over the affair and had summoned a special meeting that evening to consider what steps to take to discover the miscreants, and that there was the dickens to pay generally! Meanwhile the school waited with bated breath and enjoyed the sensation hugely.
At twelve o’clock Kendall made his way down the long corridor of Oxford and pushed open the ground-glass portal marked “Office.” There were two boys ahead of him in the outer room and Kendall sank into a chair to wait. The school secretary glanced up across the top of his desk, fixed Kendall speculatively for an instant and went back to his work. The door of the inner office opened, Mr. Collins appeared, looked over the callers, said “Watkins, please,” and disappeared again, one of the boys at his heels. There was a solemnity about the proceeding that Kendall found a trifle depressing. Five minutes later the same thing was repeated and the second youth disappeared behind that forbidding portal. Meanwhile three other boys had arrived and seated themselves about the room. Then it was Kendall’s turn at last and he followed the Assistant Principal across the threshold.