Whereat Wayne scowled, tugged the harder at the weights, and resolved to stay until the class was dismissed, hoping resentfully that he would injure his spine or some other portion of his anatomy, and that Professor Wheeler and Don and Paddy and Dave would be sorry and would regret their treatment of him. This so cheered him up that he was quite ready to forgive and forget when he had dried himself after his bath, and so met Don with almost a smile; for that youth, hoping for a reconciliation, had abandoned a French recitation and had waited patiently outside. Neither mentioned the recent affair as they strolled off together, and by mutual consent the subject of physical training was tabooed in their conversation for several weeks. And Dave and Paddy evinced the utmost tact, and were in turn forgiven on the morrow.
Professor Wheeler, however, was not so silent on the subject nor so considerate of Wayne’s feelings. He summoned the boy before him on the following day and earnestly and kindly thanked him for his action in attending the gymnasium; and Wayne, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, heard him through and then broke out with:
“But I didn’t, sir!”
“Didn’t what?” asked the principal.
“Didn’t voluntarily attend the class.”
“But Professor Beck himself told me that you were there.”
“Yes, sir, I was there; but—but—” And Wayne told the circumstances of his attendance, and the principal smiled broadly when he had finished.
“Well, well, that’s one way to persuade. I asked Cunningham to see what he could do with you, but I didn’t suppose he would use such—ah—heroic measures.”
“I don’t think it was his idea, sir,” answered Wayne. “I believe Paddy was at the bottom of it.”
“Paddy? Oh, yes—Breen. I shouldn’t be surprised if he was.” Professor Wheeler was smiling again. “Well, it wasn’t so hard yesterday, was it, Gordon?”