Doctor Whitlock seemed the next day much more grieved than Joe. Of course, the doctor explained gently, it meant probation for the balance of the term, and probation meant that he wouldn’t be allowed to take part in athletics, but in view of the fact that Kenton had maintained good standing for the school year and was well up near the head of his class there would be no further—ah—penalties inflicted. Joe thanked him gravely. Outside again, he laughed mirthlessly. Just what other penalty, he wondered, did the principal think mattered now?
He and Hal had not mentioned last evening’s incident again. For that matter, there had not been many opportunities, for they had seen each other but a few minutes before breakfast. While dressing Hal had seemed morose and out of sorts. After the interview in the office Joe returned to Number 14. He might have gone over to the field and watched practice, and would have done so if he hadn’t funked the explanations that would have been required of him. There was a bad ten minutes just at dusk when Bob Stearns came in. The captain was hurt rather than angry and said one or two things that made Joe want to crawl under a bed—or weep. But he went away finally, leaving Joe feeling very small and mean, and liking Bob more than ever for the things he might have said and hadn’t. Then there was another knock and Joe’s silence didn’t protect him, for “Granny” Maynard opened the door and descried the lone occupant of the study in the twilight.
“Mind if I come in a minute, Kenton?” he asked. “You know the fact is I feel particularly rotten about what’s happened and I do wish it had been some one else besides me. How bad did they treat you?”
“Not very, thanks. Pro, of course. You needn’t feel badly, though. You only did what you had to.”
“I know, but—being proctor is fairly rotten sometimes. If it wasn’t for the difference it makes in my term bill I’d quit it. But I really can’t afford to. I suppose you’re out of the game to-morrow?”
“Oh, yes. But my being out of it won’t matter much.”
“Not so much as Norwin,” said Maynard significantly.
“Norwin? Oh, no! Hal’s the best player we’ve got. Don’t you think so?”
“I’m not much of an authority, but I’ve heard it said that he is.” There was a moment of silence. “It’s none of my business, Kenton, but I must say I think it was very decent of you.”