“Well, let me hear it,” said Kilts.
“I’ll call him—Moore,” said Dan, “but that isn’t his name. He—he hasn’t been here very long. This is his first school. He has always studied with tutors and there are some things he hasn’t got on very well with. And one of them is mathematics.”
Kilts nodded inscrutably and Gerald leaned closer to his book.
“He’s in algebra now, sir,” Dan continued, “and he’s making hard work of it. At first he really tried hard to understand it and get along, but he couldn’t seem to make a go of it. Then he got discouraged and I’m afraid he didn’t try so hard. You see, sir, there were other things that were—were unpleasant. Moore’s father is a very prominent man and a very wealthy one. And when Moore came here a good many of the fellows took a dislike to him on that account. I suppose they thought that Moore was stuck-up, although he really isn’t. But he isn’t the sort of fellow that makes friends easily, sir; he’s a little bit shy. Well, some of the fellows tried to make it unpleasant for him; called him ‘Miss Nancy’ and ‘Young Money-bags’ and things like that. Well, that wasn’t pleasant, sir; and then he didn’t have any friends, only two or three who had known him before he entered school, and he began to think he was imposed on. Then there was the algebra. He couldn’t seem to make a go at that; he fancied that the instructor was a bit down on him, too, and you know that always discourages a fellow, sir.”
“Ay,” grunted Kilts.
“So one day, when he didn’t have his lesson, the instructor lost patience with him and ragged him in front of the class and Moore answered back. He hasn’t any excuse for that, sir, and he’s sorry now. Of course he was reported and he was placed on probation. Well, he ought to have kept his nerve and steadied down. But instead he sort of went up in the air; thought everyone was down on him, nobody liked him, and that he was pretty badly treated. So he made up his mind to—to cut it out—leave school, you know.”
“Hum,” muttered Kilts as Dan paused an instant.
“The fact is, sir, he really thought that all he had to do was to go home in order to leave school. He didn’t understand that it was necessary for his father to withdraw him. He believed that when he left Wissining the Faculty had nothing more to do with him. What I’m trying to show you, sir, is that he didn’t mean to disobey rules, but just quit altogether. Well, a friend of his learned about it three hours after he had gone. This friend knew that if the Faculty heard of it they might expel him. So he—he took the first train and went to the other fellow’s home and found him and brought him back.”
“He was ready to come back?” asked Kilts.
“Yes. He wanted to come back, although he pretended he didn’t. You see, sir, he—he had an idea that this friend of his had—had grown tired of him and didn’t care about him any more. When he found that wasn’t so he was glad to come back. If it would do any good he would go to the Office and confess what he’d done, but it might result in his being expelled. He doesn’t need punishment, sir, for he’s had a pretty tough time of it already, and he won’t ever do anything of the kind again. I’ve already promised that for him,” added Dan with a smile at the professor.